I decided not to go into work on Monday. I just slept in; that was how I quit. I actually feel kind of gleeful in my reckless abandon to leave someone else in a lurch, but that's slightly-above-minimum-wage-employee-karma for your there, Gertie.
Though the job may be gone and Gertie's treasured soundbites are no more, there is still fodder for ancedotal reflection. Did I ever tell you the one about the radio station?
Despite reaching the ripe age of 48, she only had loyalty to one radio station: Top forty. Also, WE HAD TO LISTEN TO IT ALL THE TIME! Problem was, the only speakers in the studio were perched on a file cabinet next to my head, which was situated about 4 feet from the stereo, but 25 feet away from everyone else. Gertie's office was a separate room from the studio and despite having a constant need to hear music all the time, she made no such effort to move the unit closer to her.
Every morning I would come in and automatically turn the volume down from 14 to 9. During the first week of my employment, I was incredulous to witness that wench stride across the room to flick the volume knob up just as I answered the phone. She would grin at me without a hint of sarcasm and quip "Hey! What happened to our music?", before heading straight back to her office. Naturally as soon as she disappeared, I'd turn the volume down again.
The first time this ever happened, I merely put my hand over the receiver and whispered to Gertie, "I can't hear the phone with the music up so loud." Like a sane person I expected a response of "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realize it was so loud over here." Instead I was told, "But the customers have to hear music!"
After I finished the call, she explained to me that at one point a few years back, she had wanted to install the stereo in the front reception room, but since people passing by on the street might look and and spot the speakers, she had decided to keep it out of view to avoid getting robbed.
I know that if I was a burglar, I would totally smash and grab a sweet sound system from 1991 and totally ignore the thousands of dollars of camera, computer and lighting equipment, but that's just me. Priorities, you know?
The real problem that I had with the radio being on was not the volume noise, but the actual noise: Lady Gaga- 2 songs, Plain White T's- 1 song, Black Eyed Peas- 1 song, Celine Dion- 2 songs, Sarah McLaughlin- 1 song...the list goes on and on. It was the crappiest of the crap, the shittiest of the shit, and the same playlist on shuffle all damn day long every fucking day. Sometimes I'd hear the same Bruno Mars and Avril Lavigne song four times in a day or more. Sometimes I'd get so frustrated I'd actually cry.
WHY GOD OH WHY DOES A 48-YEAR-OLD-WOMAN LUST AFTER THIS BULLSHIT? I swear, Gertie either had ADD or was a real passive aggressive ding-dong.
In the end, it was just one more reason why I quit.
My friend used to work for a Subway that was managed by a dwarf. The radio was situated way above his head, so he'd have to climb a chair to change the station. Every time his girlfriend came to visit, she'd change the station to Z-107.7. Eventually he left it there all the time, claiming that it was too much trouble to climb up to change it, but everyone knew he was just afraid of pissing her off, lest he once again be a dwarf without a normal-sized girlfriend.
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