I'm in the park, it's my first day of work and I'm trying not to feel like the new kid on the block.
The cool kids are all sitting together at lunch making the rest of us feel like we're dressed funny. And we are, but they should keep their smirks to themselves.
I know you were all looking forward to the trials and tribulations of me cleaning rooms. You wanted pictures of me swabbing out a toilet. It isn't going to happen. I have a new job already.
I reported to human resources this morning, expecting to pick up my uniform and be on my way. Instead, they decided that I had the potential to be a guest services person at the front desk at the Old Faithful Inn. What this really means is that some people didn't show up, they were desperate, I have all of my teeth and they knew that flattery would win me over.
Does the job sound glamorous to you? I kind of liked the sound of it at first until I realized that I was going to be the complaint person. Someone else screws up the reservation and they complain to me. There's a bison sitting on their car and they complain to me. To top it off, the job pays less than cleaning rooms.
I have been assured that most guests are nice, but the old timers love to thrill us with the horrible stories of summers past. All I can say is that the thought of pulling something vital in my back, made me jump at the chance to do this.
Can't you just see a wall of blood rushing toward you?
It's much creepier at night. It is night now and there is this horrible clanging sound all around me in the ceiling. It's probably nothing.
Did I mention that there is one shower stall for women and one shower stall for men on each floor? There is a sink in each room and one table lamp that is about 40 watts. I'm living large.
My 20 year old room mate is in bed already.
I have training tomorrow.
RED RUM RED RUM RED RUM RED RUM RED RUM.