Tophe

Did anyone else realise that, in those sponge-in-a-dish thingies that you see at cash registers or on the desks of people who sift through a lot of paper (they moisten your fingers so you can grab things more easily), there is NOT some kind of space-age anti-lubrication agent, but in fact just plain simple WATER??

Well call me naive, but I was sure it was something fancy. I got one at my register today, and when I asked how it got refilled when it ran out of moisture, I was told to take it with me to the kitchen and use the tap.

Part of me died inside.

I busted my first ever thief today. It was only a girl, no older than seven, but still. I risked myself for the greater good, and the end result was JUSTICE! I'm like the Jack Bauer of Magnet Mart, Gungahlin.

However, in hindsight I realise I should have approached my apprehension a little bit more appropriately.

The little brat was trying to sneak some impulse purchase Christmas earrings from my counter; and she went about it by standing as close to the counter as possible, and "playing" with the earrings. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she closed her tiny, thieving fist around a pair of the earrings, and slid it down the side of her body and then up inside her dress (where from there? I don't want to know). I kept looking to the mother to notice her kleptomaniac, destined-to-become-a-homeless-prostitute-junkie daughter, but there was no reaction that I could discern, so I had no choice but to go in myself.

I took a deep breath, considered the right level of force (for the daughter's sake), diplomacy (for the mother's sake), tact (for the company's sake), and bluster (for my own sake) - and what did I come out with?

"Hey, little girl - it'll be two dollars for what's under your dress!"



Shit.

So, apparently our casual Saturday jock has some serious OCD going on (so really, he's not that casual at all - HAAAA!).

I came into the studio this morning and everything has been moved. All the monitors have been lined up so they're all exactly the same height, and then switched off. The lights, buttons and faders on the panel are usually all over the place, depending on what's getting used and when. But he has switched every single thing off, with the exception of the three faders that keep the station on the air. This might not seem like a big deal, but when you can't work out why the FUCK you're not going to air because some douchebag has gone and disabled all the audio channels (which serves no purpose other than to switch off a couple of teeny tiny lights), it's bloody annoying.

He's also taken all four studio chairs, lowered them as far as they will go, and lined them up on the opposite side of the room. It looks like the chairs are on a time out. NAUGHTY CHAIRS.

I mean seriously, you can't bring order to this place. When you can hear rats in the ceiling, gnawing away on the asbestos - this building isn't safe for people with regular levels of neatness, let alone OCD.

Today, a customer complained about one of our store policies (the one that says you should show any discount cards you have before the sale, not after I hand you the pen to sign your Amex receipt), and I was trying to be polite - making eye contact and with one of those I'm-really-sorry-but-my-hands-are-tied smiles. She ended her whine by saying "YOU SHOULD HAVE A SIGN".

I was able to reach to my right, grab the large, bold print sign that we already have and plonk it right in front of her stupid face - "like this one, ma'am?" - without breaking eye contact or dropping my smile.

Although by the time I was done plonking, my smile had probably changed slightly to that of a right smug son of a bitch.

Can I tell you how much I am loving my new, second job? It's weird. I stand up all day, which I hate. I have to wear particular pants and particular shoes, which I hate. I have to serve customers, which I...don't hate, but no one particularly enjoys it, right? And it's in a hardware warehouse-style store, so I'm unfamiliar with 75% of all the stock. Plus it pushes my weekday work hours out to an even 12 hours. What's to like?

And yet, I am enjoying it immensely. Some days I would struggle to tell you which job I enjoyed more. Obviously radio will always come out on top, because I love the industry, and have way more skill, and will eventually end up in a more important (and better paid, and more appropriately houred) position. But still...

I think, when the Sydney/Who Magazine thing went pear-shaped, I freaked out momentarily because I thought that maybe it was just me making excuses - that maybe I had forgotten how to adapt to new surroundings. But as well as giving me extra money, and something to do with my days, this second job has also put my mind at ease, because I can still adapt, and I can still leap headlong into an unfamiliar situation and, within a relatively short amount of time, find my feet AND really enjoy myself.

Also, thanks to green-thumbed old broads who love to talk about their purchases and what they intend to do with them, I know SO FUCKING MUCH about plants now. Those old bitches are hardcore, and they're willingly giving up their knowledge to me. I could bitchslap Don Burke and piss on his azalias right now, and he would just thank me.

It's been a few years since I've had a job that requires standing upright for hours on end, and I'd forgotten how taxing it can be. I think this is the first time ever I can legitimately use the phrase "I'm not as young as I used to be". My back and feet really hurt. Seriously, I was 23 the last time I did this (working at the now-closed-down Kernels popcorn shop - which, incidentally, brings the total number of places I've worked that have subsequently shut down to FOUR - look sharp, Who Magazine!)), and now I'm pushing 28.

It probably doesn't help that the only black shoes I have are the big, steel-capped Navy issue boots (from that time I was at sea with the Navy for a day. Now, that sentence would have been linked to an entry about it, but when I went through my LJ archives I realised I never wrote one. What a dickhead. So anyway, the entire radio station spent a day on the HMAS Ballarat back in April 2007, and we were all kitted up, like Sea Patrol only more realistic and less attractive, doing Navyish things. I did a Clearance Divers exercise - it was very hardcore) - so I'm going to have to go shoe shopping. Which totally defeats the purpose of getting a second income in the first place, but whatever.

At least, for now, I'm getting some use out of the Navy issue boots - which is more than can be said for the silver jumpsuit.

1) So I got that second job - and now I'm not sure how I feel about it. I mean, yay making some extra money - but I'm back to being part of the uniform/name badge brigade. I even had to go and buy black pants yesterday because that's part of the uniform - I hate not wearing jeans! But hell, it's helping to pay for my New York holiday, and if there's any leftover I'll try to clamber out of debt.

Also, the whole thing is worth it just to have been able to watch that ridiculously cheesy training video from the 80s, starring ex-Olympian/television personality Lisa Forrest, who spent twenty-five minutes in very high pants and a waistcoat that looked like it was made out of casino carpet, telling me how to lift things. Yes, twenty-five minutes just on lifting things.

2) Last night I was lucky enough to be able to go to Bill Bailey's show, Tinselworm. That man is hilarious. Everything from the awesome dissection of Australian television news themes, to the energy crisis in the UK ("not listlessness - a different kind of energy crisis"), to the re-imagining of God Save The Queen as a jazz standard - brilliant. Now I have to go and watch Black Books again.

Due to a combination of arrogance, misplaced paperwork and basic human error, I have missed the past two pay cycles at work; meaning I have now not been paid in almost five weeks.

I found out today that another error has been made somewhere all along the line (if you are reading this and you happen to be a CEO, for fuck's sake don't outsource your payroll duties), and I may not be paid this week either, which will bring my total amount of time spent without pay to seven weeks.

If I'm not going to get paid, I expect to at least get a Scout badge for "volunteering", because that's what working without pay is called.

Well that, or "slavery". But I don't think there's a badge for that.