I got a job at the File City Maid Cafe because I needed money so I could buy food and pay rent so I didn't die in the gutter like the dude in Steel Dragon's Wasted Generation.
I handed in my application, walked home, got in the shower, got distracted by the thoughts of how I would redo a conversation I had in 2003, and by the time I got out they had already called me back and asked me to come in for an interview.
So I walked in there the next day and talked to this ridiculously crusty old lady, who handed me this paperwork that looked like a school assignment you'd get in like 2nd grade. It was full of questions like "When you're asking a customer if they'd like anything else with their plate of eggs, does that make you feel good about yourself?"
(That may not have been an actual one.)
I met the actual owner of the restaurant, who was this little bean with legs of an old man. His head was shaped exactly like his torso. It ruled. But he gave me a pen that didn't even work, and when I said "this pen's dead" he looked me dead in the eyes and said "...ya broke mah pen."
He was joking, but let's just let that set the stage for the next three years of this story.
The first day I worked here, the manager (who looked like a tiny little chihuahua and barked like one too) kept looking at me weird. After the 5th odd glance I just said "...what?" and she said "You look familiar." I was like "I have literally been here before." and she was like "oh."
So anyway. I'd been working there for a bit, I was receptive to everything I was asked to do, and I thought things were going well. But Dr. Girlfriend told me I need to get Friday mornings off so I can go food shopping, so I told the owner's wife (who likes to pretend she has any pull in this place whatsoever, which I mistakenly believed.)
The face this old woman made when I said "the only time I need off is Friday mornings" is forever engrained my head. She went from a big fake smile to slowly contorting into the most confused, horrified, hurt face I've ever seen. It was so fucking dramatic and retarded.
She called over the Chihuahua and had me explain myself, to which I did. Calmly. I said "I only have access to a car ride to go to the store on Friday mornings." to which the owner's wife replied "...sounds like Friday night is party night..."
I looked at her with the look you'd give your five year old son when he shits in his hand and rubs it on his face. Like, I said I needed Friday mornings off, so that means I want to party all night? How the fuck does that work?
They both started just freaking out, getting increasing anxiety over it. And I just said "Alright, if you can't do it, you can't do it." and I threw the plastic cup I was drinking water out of into the trash.
As I tossed the cup into the trash, the old woman sternly said "Hey! You could do with showering her some respect."
I froze and looked up. Before I could even inquire as to what in the fuck she was talking about, the Chihuahua chimed in "SHE'S ALWAYS LIKE THIS!"
I started laughing and I said "...like what? I'm being completely calm right now. You two are the ones freaking out. I said it was fine. I'll just give a list to my girlfriend and she can get my stuff for me."
...you ever say something out loud, and then immediately wish you could grab said words and shove them back into your mouth?
That's how I felt about mentioning that I had a girlfriend.
They didn't like me from the moment I started here, and I'm pretty sure I just cranked the discrimination dial into full effect.
Oh well. Fuck it.