The Graveyard Shift
I can't even begin to describe the effect that late-night working has on me. It's empty, quiet, and lonely, which is the perfect combination to encourage philosophical thinking. I'll be sweeping up cigarette butts and mopping up icee drips while thinking about what I'm doing here. How long should I stay in this place? Will I ever get out? How do I know if I'm being too nice? Is it possible to be too nice? Will people appreciate it or take advantage of it? How do I know when to stop being nice and to start being assertive?
And then there are the more realistic questions, such as:
Should I let this person use the bathroom? Will they do drugs in there or make a big mess?
Should I card this person for cigarettes/alcohol?
Is this person trying to steal from me?
Every now and then some creepy older guy will hit on me. They're usually either drunk or stoned, or both. I hate these moments the most because it just isn't a nice feeling at all, no matter how flattering some people might think it would be. Some of them remember me from my younger days and that is creepy also, but I know they just mention it to seem nice and they are so out of their minds at the time that they don't know any better.
Sometimes I think about the customers. I think about what it would be like to have what they have. Some of them come in looking so down and lonely that it breaks my heart. What would it be like to only know this place, and to only know a life of welfare, where the money you spend isn't your own? What would it be like for this little town to be my whole world, the only place I will ever know in my entire life? It makes me feel thankful for every single thing in my life. I take so much for granted and it takes a night alone at work for me to realize it.
Tonight a lady asked me, "Eh, sistah, you don't get sked workeen dis kine houwas?"
I don't get scared, I just start thinking too much and sometimes that gets depressing. At the same time, it makes me feel like I've got the whole world to myself. Driving home with no other cars in sight, all green lights, and the S-K ladies playing me a song, I feel content to simply exist.
posted by onebeat @ 3:13 AM
2 Comments:
so do you work at a gas station or a 7/11? I hope you are behind a plexiglass. I used to work graveyard shifts at the local Chevron in college and we always had two people at all times.
I don't remember people ever getting to me on any emotional level. I guess I just tuned them out (plus the gas station was in the deep south picture perfect suburbia).
It almost sounds like you are writing this entry from work.
It's a gas station. We don't have two people, but we do have excellent security cameras, and people know it.
I wrote it when I came home because I was so full of coffee that I couldn't sleep. When I'm at work, I like to clean and restock things. It makes the time go faster.
Where did you go to college?
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