Freedom from the Grind

I want to quit; I just want out; I want to quit!

I whisper it softly to myself, over and over. I want out, I want out.

It was just an hour into my shift. I was a fellow soldier behind the monitor, feeling the sting of the customers as they sent their bombs over into our narrow trench. Bags and prizes were everywhere, Winnie the Pooh dolls rolling around in the dust, candy being mixed into a grisly, sugary rendition of a rainbow. I made my way up to the counter, already feeling that subconsciousness knocking inside my brain, throwing up the warning signs that this would be no different from the other slogs.

“Hey, hey, are you paying attention? We’re right here.”

I hasten to reply, tripping over the plastic bags spread over the floor, “Right, sorry, what can I do for you?”

He snaps, “I want a good deal, considering you were wasting our time.”

I put my hands around the counter, flicking my eyes over the screen, “Look, I’m sorry, that isn’t how it works.”

It doesn’t change his tune, in fact it makes it worse, “Okay, then how about you call your manager down? Surely, they’ve got to be more competent than you.”

Is this how life always must go, where people like to make themselves more difficult? Isn’t there already enough trouble in the world without adding ice-cream and chocolate sprinkles to it?

“I’ll be a moment,” holding up the radio to my lips, softly muttering.

“Can I please have a manager at the Vault?”

“What is it now?”

“Look, I’ve got a gentleman here that has an issue of sorts that he wants to discuss with you.”

“Great, alright, I’ll be right down.”

A second later, the door to the staff room swings open, “Okay, sir, what’s the problem?”

After a barrage of comments and razor-sharp criticism, there are tears staining her cheeks, “Listen, we’re packed to the rafters here, you do realize that there’s only five of us on sight. It’s hard enough as it is. Do you want free games on the arcade or a round of laser tag?’

He shakes his head stubbornly, “That doesn’t help me at all.”

I could see it brewing, that anger, “Well, if that’s the case, why don’t you have some fun?”

“I mean, if there’s nothing that we can do for you.”

He cuts her off, flicking his hand into her face before walking off.

Trying to say something, the words get caught in my throat.

Within seconds, the moment passes, and she tries to gather her courage, “Okay, guys, keep going.”

Another wave of customers hit the counter, kids in prams and students in trollies. I can see the subtleties of my fellow veterans, urging me onwards to take care of the unruly youth, to send their drawn trolly out of the warzone. They just laugh at me, “Come on, man, we’re just having fun.”

“Isn’t that the point of this venue, that you make everyone happy?”

“This is a space for everyone,” I respond drily, “, so please, could you kindly take the trolly outside?”

“We don’t need to; this is our day out.”

“I can see that it is, if you want to have fun driving, we’ve got a Sega Relay Racing game just around the corner, it’s only $2.00 a head. What could be more fun than that?”

Ignoring my words, they take off in the trolly, knocking over bins along the way, causing candy and plastic bottles to sweep onto the floor. I try in vain to chase them, but the trolly rattles outside to crash into the bins outside. They’ve gotten rid of the evidence as soon trouble came knocking, I catch their eyes and they arrogantly walk past.

The next few minutes involve mopping the floor, soaking in the soda and coda.

That voice returns, I want to quit.

The same group eventually makes a return, this time with a round of drinks in hand, ignoring all the signs on purpose that restrict their area of movement. Not that it matters, they want a go at laser tag and are jumping in despite my warnings. Even I, a very reluctant partygoer can tell that they’d had too many drinks at the bar, probably refilling their bottles and getting more buckets of ice to add to their earlier stash. They want the night to finish off with a bang, a fond memory for them and a nightmare for me. Not for the first time this shift, I wish I was them and I didn’t have to deal with the aftermath of their wild escapades.

Their flights of fancy, their joyous moments of unrepentant immaturity.

I want to join them, why do I have to be in the trenches, working from morning to night?

I gave ground, promising left and right to the kids that I would keep an eye on events, to make sure they didn’t cheat.

Believe me, they did.

After getting the round going, I went inside, hearing the loud screams and cries of the blue and green team. The boys were gathering around the lowest sections of the obstacles, a thin wooden with a window that looks out into the nuclear plant set-up, with the flashing buttons and whirring gears. The kids were like lit up like lanterns, and they were pointing their guns up towards the ceiling. It took me a moment to locate what they were shooting at.

One of the wild bunches, was jumping and swinging like a sugar-high monkey, crashing into the wall with a sudden bang! His friends hoot and laugh, trying to partake in this deadly game.

“Get down from there, now!”

“Or what?”

This isn’t worth the money I’m getting paid, why am I even here, having to deal with this nonsense?

“I can call down the manager if you like, she won’t be too happy if you keep this up and you cause damages.”

Finally, the bell rings for the end of the game, the kids are busy, pointing their fingers at their competitors, “They were cheating, climbing and jumping.”

“How about this, you guys, you get another round?”

The birthday boy turns around to address his mum and dad, “It’s fine, mate, don’t worry. Those guys have been causing problems all day.”

I anxiously return to the monitors, watching the final minutes tick by.

As I head into the staff changing room, I can feel the uncertainty wash away, I’ve made my decision already, “Hey, Allison, I just want to have a chat with you.”