The reason I’m turning out to be a bad person.
I lie a lot… not all the time, just at my job. For those who haven’t read my other day logs I work at the Franklin Sparkle Market. Yes I know, no applause or condolences needed. But anyways, it seems my job makes me lie. They aren’t terrible lies just little white ones. But why are they needed?
When I run cash register I hate every living soul that comes through my line. Why? Because of the fact that they’re in here buying groceries and I have to put of with their redundant shit, that’s why. I want to slay them. But it seems it’s customary to greet them with a “Hello, how are you today?” Why should I have to say this? I could give a flying frankfurter how they’re doing today. I wish they’d drop dead in my checkout line.
To be polite they ask me how I’m doing. I bet on average I tell 200 people that I’m doing good. All lies. What I really want to say is that I hate my seemingly worthless life right now and I’d give anything to obtain a titanium-alloy baseball bat to collapse my boss’s cranium with. But I speak not a word of that; I just move on, continue ringing up their worthless, and outdated goods.
I suppose my biggest falsity comes when all the scanning and bagging is over. They’re finally leaving my presence and I say to them, “Have a good day!” Every time I say that I think to myself, ‘do I really want them having a good day? Hell no, I hope they choke on their Snickers bar while driving and slam into a redwood tree’. That’s what I hope happens to them, but once again, I keep my mouth shut and move on to the next customer whom I’ll eventually fill with these white lies.
I don’t mind the lying part. Like I care what these people think of me. I once pretended I had a stuttering problem just to make my job more interesting. I did it all day and a few jerk-offs laughed at me. What gets me is the fact that this deceptiveness is expected. People expect to hear this stuff. They want to hear it. It makes their day better when someone asks them how they’re doing. It’s a crying shame really.
I’ve decided one day when I’m asked how I’m doing I shall reply, “Ya know… If I had a shotgun, I’d take my own life right now. I’d put the barrel down my throat as far as it can go then… BANG… pull the trigger. That’s how I’m doing. If anyone ever tells you that they’re doing good in an establishment of this caliber, slap them in the mouth.”
So how am I doing? Eh… alright I guess. Just passing time until I go into work again tomorrow.