Odd Dead Ends

Yesterday I had to travel to the far west valley for work. It was a nice warm windy day and I decided since I was only one block away that I would venture by the Ralphs grocery store where I worked some 8 or 9 years ago.
My employment there lasted less than one year, and was cut short by a car crash, as so much in this life is. Funnier still my employment there began with a traffic infraction of sorts.
When Devin and I moved to California in the summer of the round year 2000 I had only one requirement of myself, don't work in a grocery store. I perhaps applied that rule a bit to drastically in the first few months, stretching it to something more like, don't work anywhere. I didn't. I went to the beach, and I read a lot. I hid out in the apartment. I wrote some songs and recorded them. I made use of the theory of splitting time into half hour blocks and filling those, instead of trying to fill the whole day. This theory is described well in the Nick Hornby book "About a Boy".
I filled these days in a happy haze, it was a nice break from life at a time when I needed it. Soon though the prospect of no money in the big city began to nip at my heels. I was in an active state of running from the constant annoyances in life, I had myself in my Mazda MX3 rocking out to the album Wishville by Catherine Wheel, driving through Chattsworth, California. Flashing lights in my rear view mirror. Reality catching up with me.
Apparently out in Chattsworth they take very seriously the rule that says you need to register your out of state vehicle as an in state vehicle within 10 days of moving there. I of course didn't realize at the time that I was being pulled over for such an easy escape infraction. I didn't really notice that I pulled into a parking space in a grocery store lot to lie to the policewoman. The policewoman gave me a good talking to, a warning ticket and then got in her car and drove away.

Leaving me parked approximately here, looking at this sign from this angle. I sat there and thought for a moment. I cursed myself for the promise I was about to break. Breaking promises to the self is so wrong, it shows a complete lack of caring for what you know is your well being. I had backed me into a corner that I didn't want to be in and I knew that I would need to crawl through shit either way I went. I chose the devil I knew, sucked it up, and stepped in front of the motion sensor at the front door. I filled out my application and slouched back to my car. I drove straight home and by the time I got inside there was already a message on my machine. My impeccable grocery clerking record had done the trick. They had called my old store and were salivating at the notion of abusing me in their very own store. I drove back and talked with the manager and had a job within an hour of being pulled over.
In the beginning I worked normal days clearing the lot of carts and packing bags. I had fun to a degree. I tried to date a Jehovah's Witness. I had a gun stuck in my face while we were getting robbed and I was sexually harassed by a disgusting older female manager. None of it was half as disturbing as the degradation involved in putting on a grocery smock after promising myself I never would again.
Then it got worse.
I made the mistake of displaying competence. My unhidable super human grocery clerking abilities were particularly noticed by the night stock crew manager on those evenings when I would past 10 pm. In his defense I can understand, I think he was really looking to have someone around that was able to speak with words instead of the usual grunts and profanities of the typical over night shelf stocker. He made his intentions to have me on his crew well known, I resisted. It would have been financially much more rewarding but emotionally crippling. Not too mention there were many pretty girls around during the day, none at night.
I held off for sometime, then on day I looked at the schedule and what I thought was a 4 to 12 pm shift had a little am next to it. What could this mean? I asked many people, no one could really tell me. The only advice I got was that it was probably a mistake but I should show up anyway and get the money for doing nothing since no one would Be able to tell me what to do. Bad advice, and probably a bit of manipulation but I was too green to see it or resist it. I showed up and sure enough someone knew what I was there to do.
This fish case you see before you was mine to deal with. From that day forward twice I week I would wake up at 3:00 am, or just stay up and drag my living dead ass into work. It would take nearly half an hour with extremely hot water to melt all the ice in this beauty of seafood case. Then I would have to clean what was left behind up. Old seafood which has been running under hot water at 5am. UGLY. Horrid. Inhumane.
It was on one of these mornings that my fate was hung upon me. November 7th, 2000. Election day. A day that fucked up a lot of people's world, it could be argued every one's world. I was in the checkout line, buying a fuji apple to consume on my lunch when one of the older carryout lady's asked if I wouldn't mind dropping her off at the mechanic. I normally chose to eat my lunch on a bench out front of the store. I did my co-workerly favor and dropped the woman off at the mechanic. I drove back towards the store and decided that I should just drive around a bit and enjoy the rest of my lunch break.
That car met it's fate that day in a major collision on De Soto drive. I had cuts only from the air bag. That day sucked.
I soldier on for another month or so, riding my bike five miles to and from work each day, which really sucked when I was going in at four in the morning. I soon gave up the ship and decided to move to Kansas City to begin a new life.