while most everyone from my high school class has gone on to college: partying on the weekends, having one night stands and living with their friends, i’m sitting here. in the same local, family owned pharmacy i’ve worked at since the start of my senior year of high school. no matter how many times i “quit”, i am pulled back again and again by this hole in the wall, falling apart shop. i will use the bathroom that stores years worth of prescription information and fringing wires sticking out of the ceiling. that holds a single tampon as a testament to the inclusivity of the workplace. i’ll wash my hands in the sink that didn’t work for years that was finally replaced a year ago, with the same brand of hand soap, same scent of room spray. i will come in every week (more or less) and my boss will ask me the same three questions he always does, acting as though it has been months since he has seen me. he will call me sweetheart and make passive aggressive comments and be nice (enough) even though i could never see him again and be okay with that. the best days are when [redacted] works. she is the backbone of this store and without her, there would be few customers. she will offer me sweets or some of her snack, offer me a shoulder to cry on and motherly advice. she will cry when i express any sort of gratitude towards her. she will be under appreciated by our boss and i will resent him for that until the day i die. she deserves better. i will come back here over and over, after swearing to myself i never will. swearing i deserve better, that i’m over it and can’t keep working for minimum wage. it’s not worth my time. but this place has the effect of an old sweater that my mom insists is too gross for me to wear out in public. i know it will keep me warm and will be comfortable to wear, even if my skin will itch by the end of the day. i know my way around this store and i know the customers by name and although i will leave tired with the intention of never returning, i somehow find my way back. money is money, minimum wage is better than no wage at all. so while all my friends move out and get “real” jobs and work towards their careers, i will be here behind this counter. ringing up prescriptions and reading my books and eating baked goods and doing my best.
