Monday, March 2, 2009

Drug Bust


I missed having my own money and babysitting back in The States didn't add up to much. I noticed a pizza chain was coming to my neighborhood strip mall. I don't remember the interview but I do remember the manager. She was so condescending. She was one of those people who don't know how to talk to younger people. I was about 15 and she talked to me like I was five - very loudly and clearly - with this tone that made it clear that she was doing me, some stupid 15 year old, a VERY BIG FAVOR. Whatever.



I wasn't that stoked on my job. I had to wear a uniform, pull my hair back in a pony tail, touch and smell really gross pizza, and learn how to use the register while the manager stared at me like I was going to steal money.



There was a lot going on at this fine establishment. I had never heard the word bong before but I did see one in the back room. Also beer. In fact, everyone was really busy in the back room on a regular basis, including the manager. I was often the dummy standing in the front by myself, waiting for customers and feeling self-conscious. But I didn't really get what was going on back there.



One night, I was standing by myself behind the front counter when out of the corner of my eye, I could see what looked like a gun appear in the window. At first, it was just a gun with no person attached to it. Then, all of a sudden there were several men in dark clothing holding rifles and peering into the store. I froze. I had no idea what was happening.



The manager came running from the back, grinning wildly and apologizing profusely in a fake voice to the men through the open door. It turns out they were police. Apparently, by leaning against the counter, I had tripped the panic button located below the counter. This button triggered an emergency sniper response. I was totally mortified. I don't think I was even able to get any words out in the presence of the police. I just stared at them. Looking back, I wonder why no one told me about the panic button.



A week later, the owner came in. I was in the front by myself (surprise). He asked me where everyone was and I said I didn't know. He went to the back, opened a door and pungent smoke came billowing out. The owner came back with a bottle of hard alcohol in his hand. OOOHHH, that's what they were doing? Everyone was fired, including the manager. The owner referred to me as her to the manager and didn't say much to me directly. I quit immediately. I was angry about the whole experience.



In my teenaged mind, I decided to exact revenge. Of course, the people I didn't like were all fired but that didn't stop me. What I did was order 10 pizzas with lots of toppings. For this particular chain, that meant I actually ordered 20 pizzas as they have this weird buy-one, get-another-one-even-if-you-don't-want-it promotion. I was very pleased with myself because I NEVER PICKED UP MY ORDER (Take that, pizza chain).



Now, more than 20 years later, I still can't eat that pizza.



picture: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mukluk/459475743/

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