"And if you can't handle it, maybe you should find a different job. In fact, that would be the best thing."
When he ended his unjust tirade with this statement, I was stunned. I was so livid with anger that my flesh felt as if it were being pierced with a thousand porcupine quills. A wave of despair swept my soul, but it was not as fierce as the wave of nausea that welled from deep within my belly, that threated to bloom blackly--a physical manifestation of the tumult I was experiencing.
Breathe.
Just swallowing was an effort almost beyond my capabilities.
"I will definitely keep what you are saying in mind," I responded, my voice cracking slightly.
"Yeah, you do that."
I hesitated for a brief instant, needing a moment to swallow an insubordinate and passionate 'fuck you'.
Firmly, I answered, "Oh, I will." And unable to maintain the conversation further, I hung up the phone. What was he going to do? Fire me? He had done everything but hand me my pink slip, and I didn't even know what I had done.
Could he justifiably hold me accountable for my husband's outbursts? Was it not common courtesy to warn one of schedule changes, if not ask? Five times in one week was a little excessive, wasn't it? It was when he realized that I was calm that he began to shatter my peace with a personal performance attack, and then gave me that final push, had bid me to go elsewhere.
Yes, humiliation, for me, has always been the most painful of motivators.
Monday, February 19th
It was an hour before his shift that my husband cracked his first beer. I understood why he wished to quit his job, for did I not? But I was angry that he denied me my avenue of escape. Now, I would be bound to stay.
I crawled into bed shortly after dusk, seeking solace in a restless slumber. It would be later that evening when I would check my voicemail and listen to a message from my boss. He had assumed I had quit also (even though I was not scheduled until the next afternoon). But because I was my 'own person', would I 'kindly' give him a call? I could not help but question the sincerity of his words, as they mirrored my own from the evening before. He added if he did not hear from me that evening, that he was changing the schedule. Too bad for me that I heard the message after close.
I feared the prospect of not having a job, considering my husband left without benefit of another position, but the notion of returning to work was far more dreadful. I simply did not wish to go. I could not work for someone that had so little faith in me.
After our initial confrontation, I had contacted a former employer and asked if she could find a spot for me. It would be Tuesday before she could speak with me and she would need to acquire supervisory approval, but she did not anticipate a problem. I would need to wait for several weeks while I had my background reverified, but it was (and is, still) spotless anyhow.
Tuesday, February 20th
My head throbbed, the most likely contributors being tension and hunger. I had been so very stressed that my appetite had disappeared completely. Unable to rest, I arrived a bit early to speak with my former employer. We chatted, and she promised to speak with her supervisor later the next day.
Impatient to leave my job, I did not want to put all eggs in one basket. So, I decided to meander across the way to a local bar and grill that is well-known in the Blues world. I discovered they were in need of a hostess and applied immediately. As I was returning home, I received the news that I had been granted supervisor approval for my old job (at a convenience store), but my paperwork would need to be examined by Human Resources.
Happy that I had managed to find at least one job, and possibly another, and the knowledge that I had enough cash in the bank for the next three months, I relaxed considerably.
Wednesday, February 21st
To say I was surprised was the understatement of the year. I had an interview--that night--at a world-renowned Blues club! I had always wanted to work there, but the opportunity had never presented itself. Could the kindness I had extended to the hiring manager* in the past translate over to a new job?
In this case, it did. I was hired!
Thursday, February 22nd
I'm not singing the blues anymore! My first night as hostess, and I am nervous as hell.
As my new boss (or Pachinko, as it is termed there) began orientation, she commented on the temperature, saying, "It is so hot in here, I am sweating to death."
I nodded saying, "I am too, but not for the same reason." Hopelessly honest, I said, "I am incredibly nervous."
She glaced at me, then smiled. "You are? That is kind of cute." I could tell in her gaze that she was approving even as she said, "I like that you are nervous."
I was given the official tour, completed paperwork, and issued my 'uniform'--a sweet-looking tie-dyed shirt with the comment that I could wear whatever else I wished, provided I wore sensible shoes.
Friday, February 23rd
So, I work again tonight. Thrown in on my first Friday--but not, of course, to the wolves. But I think it'll be pretty exciting. And we have a big show tonight.
It feels so good to go from tongue-tied to tie-dyed!
**My new boss remembers me from the convenience store across the way--not to mention that my husband worked for her some years ago and I had attended company parties.
