G1: A dream destroyed by rain

This post's title is a rare one that has relevance to the entry itself. I couldn't disservice this entry by doing otherwise. This is important. Let me gather my thoughts and begin.

I was wondering earlier why I even still have this blog. Just idly pondering, rhetorically musing to myself about how stale it may have become, how needless, after two and a half years almost and over 600 entries, the drudgery of daily life may not need further comment here. I began to think maybe I was doing myself a disservice and a disservice to my readers by continuing on this way. There have been times when I'd get aspirations of getting a new voice, of finding a new direction, of giving my online presence a rebirth, because maybe, just maybe, SWP wasn't worth the time anymore.

Any such insecurities were put to death by what happened tonight. On my way home from work, I knew the purpose of this blog was to continue to catalogue the insanity of everyday life through my own refracted lens.

It was the end of the night. It had been a wholly uneventful day. I went in to school, sat patiently through Poetry Analysis, came home, did dishes, ate lunch, lay around, and waited. At 2:45, I sprung into action, gathering up my gear and setting off for the mall. I arrived there just after three and went to Mr. Sub to pick up a dinner for later. It's the only thing in the food court that keeps for any length of time, and I'm not really supposed to take long breaks away from the kiosk.

So I took command of Boogie Wear, the kiosk that had hired me earlier that very week, and for which I left an illustrious 2-day career with Tim Horton's. Its set-up is very much of the temporary variety, a few thin metal racks with a few packaged costumes, a decent selection and, since we were doing 50% off this week, good prices. The register sat on some rubbermaid (or rubbermaid-like) drawers. Lynn, the woman who watches the stand during the day, left me a stool, bless her heart. My feet would already be tired before long.

I'd brought my computer, because I must've sensed the massive downtime I'd be feeling and could have prepared better for. It took some doing to access the mall's wireless connection, but before the end of the night I got surfing. I figured tomorrow, I'd bring a movie or TV DVD to entertain myself.

Around 8:00, I was getting excited. I had made very few sales and had hardly lookers beyond that. American Eagle was playing the same songs on a continuous 55-minute loop (I noted this by the frequency of Ben Lee's "Catch My Disease," a nice catchy song that may be overexposed.) But I was doing a decent job, enjoying it, and despite the soreness that accompanies any job, relaxed.

Fifteen minutes later, I got visited by a couple in their mid-20's, who were more interested in taking potshots about the costumes' quality than buying one. I joined them, as, having looked at them all day, I had a zinger or two, and we all had a few laughs.

After that, I was about to go to the washroom, when I spotted a familiar face. Now,Oakville's not that big a town, and Oakville Place is more or less the only mall around, so if you work for 5 and a half hours, you're gonna see some people. At this time, I ran into my old buddy Matty Oh and his cousin Cheryl, who apparently has a kid now. Not with him, but he seems attached in that fun Uncle sort of way. We caught up a bit, and he seemed amused by my new kiosk position. He even stopped by on his way out.

He was just leaving when Ali, the guy who'd hired me, walked up. I wasn't expecting to see him, but I wasn't taken too aback, so I went out of my business. "Scott, I've got some good news and some bad news." I hate 'good news/bad news' situations, and I wish it happened some other way so that I wouldn't have to build to it this way. He looked me square in the eye, and it hit me like a sledgehammer.

"We're done here."

Excuse me?

The storage facility where they were keeping all their merchandise was poorly built. It rained this week, and when they showed up, the whole roof had collapsed. Everything was ruined. no merchandise. No kiosk. No awesome job anymore for Scott.

What can I say? I felt horrible. Just horrible. This effing job had been the focal point of my life for the last week and a half. I was talking it up to everyone. I was excited. I was in a good place. And now it's all gone, all because it rained one fucking day.

Don't worry too much about Ali. Yeah, he's out quite a bit of revenue from the kiosks, but he did have insurance. Me, I'm worried about myself. I don't want to go back to Tim Horton's. Not after a fucking week. I was counting on this. Not just for the money, but so that it would be my place. I would have that place to comfort me. Nothing could be wrong in my life, if I'm going to a kiosk to work selling Halloween costumes. Maybe that's putting it too far, but I just loved having that job so much. I coveted it. That's the problem. I coveted it and I lost it. I fell hard and I fell fast. After all, that's what pride comes before. A fall.

So you can imagine, this is a huge letdown. The dream of working a kiosk was over as it barely began. All because of a stupid faulty roof and some lousy rain.

In any case, he was very re-assuring. He said that, being a guy with a lot of retail places in his company, he said he wanted to keep my name in case he opens something in Oakville. Whether he was just being nice or if he really thought highly of the two days I worked there, I won't know unless he calls me someday. It's not somethingI can count on, but I do hope for it.

In any case, this has been a long dramatic post. I was just thing how thing have come to this. I have no stability. Things have gotten so fragile that they can shatter in an instant like that and I have to rebuild. Before you know it, it's all gone Pete Tong. Washed away with the rain.

On the plus side, I got over my cold yesterday, thank you Cold-FX. Ladies and gentlemen, if you are suffering an early-autumn cold, may I recommend this wonderful invention? All it takes is three days, it strengthens your immune system and improves your lasting health. I'm a believer.

Anyway, that's my ballad for tonight. There are more angles to this thing that I'll have to remind myself (via this sentence, methinks,) to go over tomorrow.

Hopefully things can normalize. All I want is a little mediation. I've had so many highs and lows these past two weeks. All I want is the middle way. I call myself a Buddhist? Shit.

Hope you find your way, all. Keep on rockin'
-Scott