Yesterday was my last day at the music store, and I have to say that it's a rather wonderful feeling to be done. It certainly wasn't a bad job--it paid well enough and the schedule was flexible enough to accommodate my musical whoring around town--but I had grown tired of it for the simple reason that even the best possible retail job is still a retail job, and there's some inherent shittiness that comes along with that.
Namely, you have to deal with people, and everyone knows people are jackasses.
Case in point:
After clocking out yesterday and saying my goodbyes, I left through the back door and was immediately stopped by a woman in the small street behind the store. She appeared to be in her mid-to-late twenties, and (as far as I could tell) didn't seem to be drunk or high.
"What's in that building?" she asked.
"You mean this one?" I replied.
"Yeah," she said. "I walk by here all the time and I've always wondered what it is."
"It's a music store." I had thought the large blue "DALE MUSIC" sign over the back door was pretty self-explanatory, but apparently not.
"Oh." She seemed to be genuinely confused. "You mean it's not a bar or anything?"
"No, it's a music store. We sell music."
"Oh."
And with that, she kept walking.
While I'm sure I'll miss the place, my fellow employees, and even a few of our better customers, I suppose this was a fitting way to end my employment: dealing with morons, as usual.
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