Wednesday, 26 August 2009


Working part time at The Big Gay Department Store is, on the whole, fine. I turn up, do the requisite amount of making-small-talk-with-co-workers and giving-a-shit-about-the-business, and then get to work like shopkeeping is all I was born to do.

And I'm good at it, too. I often have customers remark on how nice it is to be served by such a happy fellow, and how very cheerful I am. I generally smile back and reassure them that I'm crying on the inside madam, would you like the receipt in your bag? That's great, enjoy the rest of your day.

Working full time at The Big Gay Department Store is, on the whole, torturous. I can just about manage to pretend to like my co-workers one day every week, but five days on the trot is a bit more of a strain. Especially when they sit next to me and try to enter into conversation during breaks, or - dig this - force tuna curry onto me. Apparently I missed someone's birthday at the beginning of the month, this woman I hardly ever speak to other than to say hello and exchange meaningless pleasantries; and so to make up for the fact that I wasn't there when she brought in cake and what-not, she decided on Saturday to leave me a portion of tuna curry and a biscuit in one of the pigeon holes behind reception. Unfortunately - or fortunately, I haven't yet decided which - I forgot all about it up until yesterday, and so for all I know, it's still sat there... ew.

And then there's the customers. Empty fucking drones, bimbling about ticking life boxes and consuming to be happy and drown out the sheer pointlessness of all their endeavour.


But then I get the chance to work some extra hours, and I think to myself... What would Rollins do?

He'd take the work. Fuck it, it's not that bad really. I think I may just be indulging in our national pastime of grumbling. Besides, if I wasn't at The Big Gay Department Store focusing all my energy into repressing the urge to be thoroughly unpleasant to every other person I met, I'd just be sat around the flat, wondering what the fuck I should be doing.


Willard said...


won't he fuck all that noise and form black flag?

Marianne said...

Duude, he didn't form Black Flag, he was a total fanboy for them and managed to get the job through sheer fanboy persistence.

But either way, you're right Ben. Rollins is a worker. He'd take that job and do the same thing you're doing with it...hating it but getting the fuck on with it.

You'll be ok kid.

Matt said...

Or: If you weren't at the Big Gay Department store, you could be painting toy soldiers. It's what I'd do if I wasn't at The Company.

Charlie said...

You could be doing me but then i got a life and abandoned you. I am so sorry my poor sweet Ben.