Re: The blues (long rant)

[Camille Costa <ccosta01 -at- SPRYNET -dot- COM>]

Bruce wrote:
>And in the mean time, 90% of other occupations are harder, dirtier, more demoralis(z)ing, less rewarding, more boring and don't earn you as much.

And I've done 'em all, you betcha: toilet scrubbing eight hours a day, mopping floors
and having passersby expect me to scrape off their shoes whatever it was that I was
cleaning up, doing factory work so tedious in an atmosphere so noxious with fumes and
heat that it made me sick at the end of the shift. One job required me to be on my feet
for twelve hours without a break, loading 40-lb. rolls of paper onto a mainframe
printer. When the paper ran out, I hauled up another 1,500-lb. pallet of the stuff from
the loading dock, yanking and pulling the dolly off the elevator while a boss with 80
lbs. on me stood by and read the sports section. Another boss, who used to sit and eat
torturously aromatic lunches with her peer group in proximity so close I could hear them
chew and slurp while I schlepped and hustled, told me that my relentless 12-hour shift
was "good exercise." Perhaps the most morale-shattering were the "documentation girl"
clerical jobs: typing someone else's words all the while knowing that I probably could
do as good a job as the author. In these I was either referred to as someone's "girl" or
when they did call me by name, "Carmen." The pay for these jobs, which I prided myself
in doing well and reliably by the way, afforded me a choice between housing or
transporation, but not both--ergo, I did a lot of walking.

The treatment from those above me who ironically enough considered themselves liberal on
most social issues, can best be described as disinterested condescension. Most of the
time, however, they treated me and my fellow workers as invisible.

In my current job as a hotel night clerk, I have to deal with the occasional cokehead
who raves about killing people and guests who literally think they're some manifestation
of the Deity. Then there are the relatively sane clods who think it's their unalienable
right at 2 a.m. to crank up the music and cram a room that accommodates four people with
thirty who spill out into the hall tossing empty beer cans about like rice at a wedding.
There were times I've had to muster up my blue-collar bravado, march upstairs and go
Latin on some of the more thuggish of my rude guests. Hence, I end up kicking them out
to the curb and waiting the rest of the night for the physical retaliation that may
happen later. I won't even get into the sleep deprivation issue.

So given my druthers, I'd prefer the occasional tedium of technical writing any day.

Camille (Please don't call me Carmen) Costa
ccosta -at- sprynet -dot- com


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