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While I was working at Borders during the winter of 2008, I spent most of my shifts working at the calendar kiosk on the downstairs end of the mall. The kiosk was located a few yards from the entrance to Macy's and sandwiched between a shoe store and a board game store. Nearby there were also a coffee shop, a candy store, a jewelry store, and a kiosk that advertised teeth whitening but never seemed to attract any customers. Anyway, the shoe store was closest to my kiosk. Its doors were at an angle, so the kiosk employees had a clear view of anyone entering or exiting the shoe store. About two months into the seasonal job, I had established a friendship with my coworker the LARPer. He took a second job at the shoe store, and when he worked there while I was at the kiosk, he and I would take advantage of the proximity of our workplaces to chat. Regrettably, this resulted in the shoe store manager (SSM) noticing me after having been oblivious to me in the prior weeks. One day, the LARPer told me that SSM had been checking me out and gossiping about me all day. " . . . " I said. "He said 'She's good looking for days.'" "?" I said. "Meaning, he thinks you're very good looking." "Oh." I wasn't sure that I ought to be flattered. "And he's going to try for you." "!" I wasn't flattered. "Well, yes," the LARPer said. "I thought I'd warn you." "Um . . . thanks." "Um, and I did try to advise him against it." "Thanks, though I was actually kind of looking forward to it." Catching my ominous meaning, the LARPer laughed and added, "But I told him, 'Look, no, I know her' and he said, 'Oh, you know her?' and I said yes and he asked, 'Oh, you went there?'—" "Ew!" "—and I said, 'No, I didn't mean that. I meant, she's my friend." " . . . and . . . ?" "Well, I don't think he was all that discouraged." "Oh. Well. . . . I look forward to it." The LARPer laughed. The LARPer did not work at the shoe store much longer since SSM was fairly creepy. The LARPer described SSM as micromanaging and nitpicky, which was not the least of the real issues. SSM drank—a lot—and had a twenty-four-year-old girlfriend (he was forty) whom he stole from another guy by offering her cocaine. Classy. Worse still, SSM had two other girlfriends, ages sixteen and seventeen. Thoroughly revolted, I nevertheless anticipated teasing the guy, even if only in my own mind. I received my opportunity soon enough. The kiosk's cash register was on a metal stand which had a cabinet beneath it. The cabinet housed a few basic office supplies and the curtains that hung around the kiosk at night. Badly constructed, the doors to the cabinet had a couple of bolts serving as hinges, sans nuts. This of course meant that after only a few weeks of use, one of the nuts fell out, causing the cabinet door to crash to the floor every hour or so. At first, I kicked and wedged it back into place, but at length, I dropped a pen on the floor and bent to pick it up, and while stooping, the cabinet door collapsed again and landed, corner side down, on my back. I swore violently and brought a wrench to work the next day to repair it. I failed, so, as I told a friend online, "I asked if I could bring tools to fix the cabinet, and they said sure. Of course, by 'tools' I meant 'implements of destruction' and by 'fix' I meant 'beat the shit out of,' but the results probably would have been the same either way. Today I spent 37¢ at Home Depot on new nuts and bolts for said door. Borders owes me now." Yes indeed. I purchased nuts and bolts and repaired the cabinet properly with the aid of my crescent wrench and crowbar. The metal on the corners of the door was twisted, so I had to use the crowbar to twist and beat it back into shape. Can't say I didn't enjoy that. It took quite a while, though, and of course attracted a fair amount of attention. Including SSM's attention. As I was crouched on the tile floor working on the cabinet, SSM walked by and started a conversation. The following email thread between the LARPer and me explains the conversation.
*sigh* Yeah. SSM tricked me into giving me the URL of this website, and I couldn't help but be impressed. It takes a lot to trick me. As time passed and I failed to become any more responsive to his conversation, he lost interest and grew bored, which was a relief, yet simultaneously something of a disappointment since I'd been enjoying snickering up my sleeve at him. I passed the rest of the time at the calendar kiosk without seeing or speaking to him much, except for when I wore a skirt to work. Each time that happened, he commented on how distracting my legs were. I grimaced and said nothing in response. By the time the calendar kiosk closed, I didn't catch more than a glimpse of SSM each time I worked there, and I'd grown good at dodging him. I would lurk around the corners of the kiosk that faced away from the shoe store, which was all the more advantageous since that meant I also avoided JSG yet remained within the line of sight of the clown. It's nice when it works out like that. |