Werkin' it.

Be it trying to clean the shame of that Saturday night out of upperclassmen bathroom for Dorm Crew or be it shelving books in Widener as you try desperately –for the love of God–not to see the naughty bits of those adventurous persons fulfilling the holy trinity of Harvardian activities, some of us are blessed enough to have jobs besides being a student.

And besides getting paid for mindless labor, sitting on your ass while you do your homework, or whatever perks your job may offer, we all know there are certain intangible and yet glorious qualities to being somebody’s bitch.

11:47 AM

I was supposed to be at work at 11:45. I just woke up. This is not class. The Box Office does not work on Harvard time. Oh well, might as well stop and get some breakfast if I’m going to be late anyway. 7-11 heartburn here I come. Sooo worth it.

12:04 PM

The Box Office is supposed to open at noon. My manager’s not even here yet. Figures.

1:34 PM

I cannot handle the patrons coming to purchase tickets. When I give you a map, do not tell me that you will cherish it forever. When I tell you there is a discount for children under twelve, do not ask if that applies to midgets as well. By the way, correcting yourself to say dwarf does not make it any better. When I tell you how much it is, do not stare at me blankly and pretend I was going to give you tickets for free. These are the rules via which transactions work. In general, don’t be batshit.

1:44 PM

If the phone rings one more time, I’m going to pull a Wei Gu and go cray cray. I love repeating the same line 98998789 times. I also love when a woman tells me I ruined her Christmas because I did not get her the seats she sat in for the performance in 1952.

3:15 PM

Okay. I do not need for you to tell me I’m rude. If you cannot speak English, I cannot be polite to you. I cannot understand you.

4:00 PM

Food break. nomnomnom.

5:30 PM

You cannot come to me at 5:30 wanting tickets for the show that started at 6. That is not going to work. It’s just not. Because I know you weren’t listening the first two times, it’s just not going to work. If I didn’t have facebook to get me through this day, I would die.

6:00 PM

Closing time. I need a cigarette, liquor, and some hate sex to wipe away the grime of the masses.

photo courtesy cracked.com