Conclusions The Day After The Last Day Of Work

So, I was going to say something about work.

Yesterday was not a good day of work. I had to deliver to Girls Port, which is some sort of group home for teenage girls without social skills who enjoy insulting delivery drivers. Then there was this new guy working, who looked like a cross between Gary Oldman and scrambled eggs. As tolerant as I try to be, I just couldn't look the guy in the face.

And I had to work with Bryan. Bryan isn't a bad guy; in fact, he's kind of funny. But there's something off about him. He's smarter than everyone thinks he is, as I think I've said here before, but it's not just that. He's got this aura about him, this serial killer aura. And he may be telepathic. I just have no other way of explaining his amazing people skills.

Unless he's immortal… you see, he just moved here from California, so my theory is that maybe he's been alive for hundreds of years, and he moves from state to state every few years to hide the fact that he doesn't age. That would certainly explain his use of decidedly old-school skateboarding tricks.

I also worked with Matt, this guy who used to go out with my friend September. Matt has supersensitive hormones- if he sees an attractive girl on the side of the road while he's on delivery, he'll turn around and drive past her again. You used to see September and Matt walking around the high school, committing all manner of PDAs.

He and Bryan and this old burnout named Brad are actually about the only people there who do their work. Bryan doesn't do that much work, but compared to Dan S and Julie, who do nothing and spend each night calling each other slackers, Bryan is a dishwashing god. Yes, dishwashing between deliveries is prettymuch all the drivers are responsible for.

Dan S. is probably the coolest guy at work, but everyone rags on him. Rightly so, of course, because he calls himself The Slacker and refuses to do any work, but nevertheless, he always has a interesting story to tell about his romantic adventures or his violent encounters with Brainerd neonazis. He's like a tall, lanky version of my hetero-life-buddy Larson, who lives a life so perpendicular to mine that every detail is bizarre. A last note to Dan's credit: On the back of his neck he has a tattoo of the all-seeing eye, which probably the single greatest tattoo ever tattooed.

Forgetting Brad, the forty-year-old burnout who seems to speak only in cliches, Julie is the last of the nighttime drivers. Julie, like Dan S, doesn't do any work. Work gets done, though, because she almost always works with her fiance Greg, who also happens to be a manager, and he does most of her work for her. And yells at Dan S to do the rest. So Julie sits around and eats candy or whines to Greg or makes pleasant conversation with the drivers, because she's a nice person, after all. I just feel bad for Greg sometimes -his relationship with Julie is where it should be forty years from now.

Greg is my favorite manager, I guess. I never really had a problem with any of the managers, but Greg lives a normal and apparently happy life without the naivete of many in his situation. He goes to CLC, Brainerd's finest college, but he's aware of the quality of the education he's receiving. And he's made the crucial decision to transfer after two years. I don't know how old he is, but at 19 or 20, he's already an adult. A whipped adult, sometimes, but still an adult.

And, if I may digress, Greg has the best theory of inflation.

One night, while closing with Greg and Dan S., Greg called us over to the register area to see a "counterfeit twenty-dollar bill". It sounded plausible, so we went over and he showed us the bill, which looked real but lacked the little strip and other anti-counterfeiting measures.

So we were gazing at the bill in amazement when I happened to check the date. It was from 1973, which explained the lack of modern security devices. Greg was crestfallen, but then perked up after processing the date of the bill.

Greg's Theory of Inflation

Greg: You usually don't see bills this old around…

Our Bold Hero: Well, paper money doesn't last so long in circulation -this is in pretty good condition for a bill that old.

Greg: It's not only that; we shouldn't have accepted a bill this old.

Our Bold Hero: What? It says right there "LEGAL TENDER FOR ALL DEBTS, PUBLIC AND PRIVATE".

Greg: Yeah, but there's some law that says you have to trade in all your old bills each year. Otherwise they aren't good anymore.

Our Bold Hero: Really.

Greg: Yeah, each year you're supposed to trade in all your old bills for new bills at the bank, but some people don't do that, which is why there's inflation.

Our Bold Hero: Wait…what? I took economics, and that doesn't… what? I don't think that's true…

Greg: Well, think about it. A 1973 dollar is worth more than a 2002 dollar because there are less of them… the government makes all this new money and… it's kinda hard to explain.

The other nighttime managers, Beth and Cory, are virtual opposites. I was going to do a daily feature here of "Reasons Why The Assistant Manager Is Crazy", but I didn't work with Beth every night, and some nights she didn't say anything weird anyways.

Beth is thirty-something, Julie's sister, a firm believer in spankings, and has six children of her own. She's the crazy kind of Baptist; the kind that thinks immorality is infectious. And she seems to have the same guilt-driven work ethic that I grew up with, because if anyone is standing around she'd rather make up work than let them relax. She's nosy, but pleasant in a way.

Cory is moody, at least according to Greg, and this theory at least seems to hold some weight. I've never had a problem with Cory, though many of the other employees seem to dislike him, but I have noticed that, if he's in a bad mood his managerial style adjusts accordingly. Belligerent customers and slacking employees alike cannot escape his wrath. At the same time, if Cory is in a good mood no one has to do any work. Incidentally, one of our cooks is Cory's brother and friends with Dan S, which only goes to show that everyone knows everyone at Giovanni's…

And with that I'll conclude this, well, catalogue. I didn't mean to let it get so large, but it's a pretty good description of my coworkers, which in turn is a pretty good description of what it was like to work at Giovanni's all summer. It was a good job, and, compared to everything else I've done, it was an easy job. I certainly know my way around town now, though I think my driving (especially my parking, because a delivery driver needn't worry about his parkjob) is worse.

The Deathtrap, in fact, is in the shop right now, which gives me ample time to stay at home and pack. All this driving killed the starter on the van, but since I was going to take it in today anyways, it's just another thing to fix. Well, speaking of packing, which I certainly am…