Salty Stories

My First Big Girl Job

This past week I went down a very, very dark rabbit hole of perusing the documents saved on my computer. Being the nerd that I was, I had every paper, presentation and video I’d ever created dating back to 2009 when I got my very first lappytop. It was all fun and games lawling over my powerpoint on the Kardashians from my joke semester in Italy until I found my pre-blog days. When I graduated college I would randomly regurgitate blog-type rants and save them to look back on when I’d made it as a screenwriter and was famous as hell. Well here I am, an events assistant, uproariously laughing out loud at the things I bitched about when I was 22 or 23 and I’ve decided that since I now actually have an avenue to share them on, why not toss one in every once in a while for a #tbt laugh. This week’s edition is my stream of consciousness from my first post-college job where apparently I spent more time watching Days of Our Lives and picking my bike shorts out of my buhhole than actually doing anything worthwhile. I aptly titled it “The Office.”

Starting out at a new office this summer and I’m the part-time, temporary receptionist. The title alone gives everyone in the office reason to ignore me. They only see me half the day, if they happen to come to the front desk, and the job goes for three months. So I guess it makes sense that literally no one talks to me except for the one guy that realized I also am addicted to Days of Our Lives and we talk shop. By shop I obviously mean we talk about whose having sex and whose been arrested in Salem. Unfortunately like an asshole I couldn’t remember what happened in an episode the other day and he hasn’t talked to me since. I lost my only friend because I was distracted at work and couldn’t watch TV. Yep, the job is going well. Anyway, my point of this rant is that I was in the bathroom the other day thinking of how I’ve completely proven that I’m a weirdo, making it much more difficult for people to want to talk to me once they get past the fact that I’ll be gone in two weeks.

Anyway, have you ever gone into a public bathroom or a bathroom at work and considered that they might have security cameras in the bathroom (not the stalls you perv) to prevent theft or like group sex? Well as I was in there I did my normal questioning of if there’s cameras and then decided that I reallllyyyyyyyy hope there’s not. Reasons why I hope there are no security cameras in my office bathroom:

  1. I didn’t learn how to use the automatic paper towel dispenser for three weeks.

Okay so this is not even a little bit a joke, although I really wish it were. About halfway down the paper towel dispenser there is a hand waving above a red light, which I assumed to be a sensor. So for three whole weeks I jived my hand around that and almost cried every time no paper towels came out. Usually there was a backup roll that I could end up using after my frustrating dance. One time there wasn’t, and I returned to the desk with sopping hands, which was real uncomfy. One day, on accident my hand went under the dispenser as I was walking to the sink and magically a foot of paper towels shot out. It was that exact moment in life that I questioned how I graduated college.

  1. I often go into the bathroom to pull up my skirt or dress and pull my bike short spandex that I’m wearing underneath out of my butthole. I have never once gone into a stall to do this.

As a 22 year old chick I own about 4 dresses that are long enough to be considered business casj, so naturally I think it’s AOK to wear my short dresses with bike short spandex underneath, thinking that when the inevitable bend over occurs, at least someone will be getting a glimpse of spandex instead of my asshole. The only problem being that these shorts often like to hang out in my asshole, especially after four hours of sitting, so adjustments are absolutely necessary.

So that’s why I’m hoping there are no cams in the bathroom, or like a bathroom peeping tom (ew.) I did discover about a month into the job that two security cameras cover the front desk where I sit. So it’s a mere miracle that I haven’t been fired from my activity up there. Again I questioned my intelligence if I couldn’t figure out that a news station in the seediest area of Albany would have security cameras all around the reception area. Once I did and realized how many dumb things I did regularly, I started staring directly into the cameras after I did something dumb. So that definitely doesn’t draw attention to me… Anyway, things that the front desk security cameras have caught me doing:

  1. Taking stupid snapchat selfies.
  2. Re-taking snapchat selfies several times when I inevitably have a double chin.
  3. Picking my wedgie. (We went over this…)
  4. Throwing my phone and pretending I’m not using it every time I hear someone coming.
  5. Going to great lengths to hide the cover of whatever inappropriate book I’m reading when I have to answer the phone or someone comes in unexpectedly.
  6. Putting the phones on night mode when I go to the bathroom and then forgetting to switch it back after I sit down again, then sitting for an hour before realizing the phones are off.

Whoa, that escalated quickly into things I could potentially get fired from my part-time temporary receptionist position for. My bad guys….shit got real, real quick. Confessional OVER.


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