So I decided to quit Blockbuster. I gave the manager my two weeks’ notice tonight.
It’s not really a bad job. All you have to know how to do is work a cash register and alphabetize things. And be able to deal with extreme stupidity:
me: I’m sorry, this coupon expired January 31st.
girl: But it says valid through January 31st.
her boyfriend: That means until January 31st.
girl: But through…doesn’t that mean it starts working January 31st?
me: No, that means it stops working January 31st.
girl: But…but…through generally means continuous, right?
me: Um, not on coupons, sorry.
her boyfriend: No, honey, it expired. How much?
me: $7.58.
girl: But I don’t understand. this coupon should still work, right?
me: 42 cents is your change. It’s good from when you recieve it through January 31st.
girl: So it still works?
me: No. Through means the same as until. The coupon is no longer valid. Your movies are due Wednesday at noon.
girl: But it says through….
(boyfriend leads her away)
So that part’s kind of a pain in the ass. The other thing is that standing for eight hours is a pain not only in the ass, but in the feet, knees, back, and leg muscles as well.
I did the math, and the amount of money I was going to make by staying on as long as I had planned to just was not going to be worth it. The free movies are a nice benefit, but I’m so goddamn busy with school I never have time to watch them anyway, so that moots that whole point.
And it’s not like I was getting health insurance from them or anything (hooray for Searle, where a bleeding flesh wound could be a sign of pregnancy, even if you are, technically, male), so the only thing quitting takes away is money. And granted, I need more money for this album I have all these elaborate plans to record. But when it comes right down to it, I can eat Mac N Cheez instead of Papa John’s for a few weeks, and all will be well in Financeville.
Well, until I graduate. Then I’m fucked.