I can only speak from my experiences working at a big-box thrift store for a few months, years ago, but I’ll never forget baling thousands of pounds of clothing per hour, and despite putting in my best efforts, still being a slower worker than a man well past retirement age. So when I donate my depreciated clothing, I/they don’t care if it’s worn or damaged: they’ll bale everything except soiled materials and sell them overseas.
“tganks again for covering cash 4 lunch
ill get lunch @ urban junction
irs at 8th & polaris”
The furniture mover, on a rainy day off, took the bus into Eville to meet one of the people she briefly worked with on a larger move. Partially, the trip was to get out of the house, maybe meet up with some new people, but mainly it was to see if this hip establishment could rekindle her guitar playing interests.
“Why’s this taking so long? It must be back to working order promptly.”
There was a haze around the office, lined with leather-bound wealthy books and well-traveled ornaments, as the computer repair technician averted her eyes away from the small printer on the desk that was not working to the customer, an older woman wearing dusty clothing.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, usually these things don’t take this much time.”
BEEP… BEEP. BEEP!
When Trishna and John meet for the first time, after years spent chatting online and over the phone, how do they recognize each other? It might be easier for Trishna because of certain events during the conclusion of Adolescence Arc “The Story,” but how about for John? Who is this girl that appeared through unforeseen circumstances? Is she really the person he’d been chatting with all these years? And, how can Trishna be so sure?
Spoilers?: Minor (idle character/plot brainstorming)
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“This is the second time you’ve called out sick this month!”
“I know, I was feeling really sick, really tired, and just couldn’t-“
“Those aren’t excuses!”
Everything was black, except for outlines of her boss and their cube area.
RED, FLASHING, BLUE
She awoke to darkness.
Her sweatpants were covered in sweat.
The blanket was on the ground next to the couch.
It was 4:47 AM.
She had intended to wake early, but not this early.
“OK-lure, when in this console window and connected to this server, simply type in this, this, this switch and… are you paying attention?”
The nervous computer repair technician broke her rhythm of looking up at the screen, looking down to write the esoteric command in her notepad, to look over at the more seasoned computer repair technician, Nils.
“Forget it. I’ll do it. I’ll paste console notes into the ticket when I close it.”
The small apartment had only one functionless piece of decoration: a gaudy customer service award hanging from a nail that had long been painted into the infrastructure in a prominent spot in the living room. “Employee of the Month: Jane Lanyard, IT.” She couldn’t miss reading and re-reading it as she spoke on the phone with one of the few recruiters that might occasionally reach out. “We know transportation has been an issue for you…”
It’s past 6 PM and the view of the parking lot was just as stale for Jane as it had been three hours ago. The studio apartment was cluttered with a cheap brown couch that had a broken pull-out bed, shaky desk for a computer, a cheap dining table with three mismatched chairs, and an acoustic guitar collecting dust. She hadn’t been outside all day, other than four times to smoke on the balcony, reading erotica.
The clock on the dashboard of her truck read 9:23 PM as she pulled into a parking stall in the run-down apartment complex on a Friday evening after a long work day. Jane, a former computer repair technician currently picking up hours moving furniture, had been awake since 3:30 AM for a full day of work. All she could think of as she parked her truck was making sure not to crash before crashing on her couch.
The two friends sat in an empty cafe just outside a side road leading out of town. “I’ll tell ya, Jane, now that I’m off the phones, it’s really something different! The work’s harder, sure, and more competitive, but the freedom you’ve mentioned is nice.” Jane stayed quiet, chewing her cod sandwich, as Sammohini kept chatting. “But I miss the ease of helpdesk work. If you don’t know it, add your notes and escalate it!”