How I Lost My Job

I went to work at the Neptune when I was 15. I was employed in concessions and as a cashier, projectionist, janitor and assistant manager. From the age of 15 to 20 I never missed a day.

I got my first girlfriend a job at the Neptune. Eventually she got to be the assistant manager and we broke up and working together was a drag. One weekend day I missed the bus to the U-District. The next one was in 30 minutes, so I was late. I called in and said I wasn't going to be able to make it on time. She said then don't bother coming in at all, you're fired.

It surely was for the best, we both needed to move on, but I took it poorly. I got crash space from my sister and would lie around feeling sorry for myself. Eventually Greg dragged me to a fast food joint where I got slightly better than minimum wage for an honest if unpleasant job. Mopping p, cleaning the fryer, frying burgers, and deep frying stuff was all mildly unpleasant, but the worst job by far was changing the grease out of the fryer.

I don my protective vest and apron, then lower the face guard and put on the big hand guards so that I can lift the vat of blisteringly hot oil, straining to hold the hot metal with sloshing frying grease away from my body and steady enough that it doesn't slosh out, as I shuffle across the room, out the door, and across the parking lot, with my arms and shoulders getting tired and cramped, the nasty crackling sound as the hot grease hits the water that has condensed over the prior layer of grease in the barrel and splatters - nothing has ever got me more motivated to do a high tech job: they pay so much better, the conditions are much nicer, and the job is much more fun.

Pretty quickly I was able to find gainful employment programming robots, but that's a different story for another time.