Hello Stranger, I'm a Disaster
Working at a Comic Book Shop is Stupid Anyway
I woke up when the light shining through my window hit my face. I had the feeling that I was missing something until I realized I was supposed to be at work before the sun came up. I sat up and looked at my alarm clock – yep. It was 8:30. I should have gone to work and hour ago. I quickly put on some clean clothes and I ran out the door.
Ten minutes later I was stepping off the subway and running up to the comic book shop where I work. I really hoped my boss wasn’t waiting around for me. Maybe I could get in without anyone noticing my absence. There was never very much business anyway.
When I walked in the door I noticed Ray counting inventory. Ray looked up from the box on the floor and waved when he saw me. He rose to his feet and stepped forward to meet me. With his hand he motioned towards the back of the shop. “Bryar’s waiting for you. He doesn’t seem too happy dude.”
Ray gave me a look filled with concern, but I was annoyed that he had to pass me this news. Fuck. I should have known Bryar would wait around for me.
Without saying a word to Ray I made my way to my boss’ office. When I reached the back of the store, the door was slightly ajar. I knocked feebly, hoping he wouldn’t be in there. My heart dropped further when I heard a voice call “come in” from within. I pushed the door open and stepped inside the little room. The walls were lined with filing cabinets. Nearly every drawer was pulled open to some degree, revealing a disarray of papers. A desk took up most of the space in the small room, wrapping around to create a barricade for its owner. Its surface was covered with stacks upon stacks of miscellaneous papers, a large ancient computer, and a more modern streamlined laptop. On either side of the two computers there were enough coffee mugs to last a lifetime. A plaque sat on top of the tallest stack of papers that read “Bob Bryar” in silver lettering.
Behind the desk sat the owner of the plaque, and the owner of the mess. He smiled at me and waved his hand, signaling me to sit down in the chair on my side of the desk. I dropped down in it abruptly, wanting this meeting to be over as soon as possible.
“What’s going on Gerard?” He leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk with a scrutinizing glare in his eyes.
I blinked at him, not knowing what to say.
“You’ve been performing less than satisfactory lately. You’ve been slacking off in your work, and this morning you took the liberty to give yourself some extra time to sleep.
I gawked at him, my mouth falling wide open. I snapped my jaw shut and tried to gain some composure. “I… I’m sorry. It was an accident, and I’ll make sure it won’t happen again.” That’s what you’re supposed to say in these situations right?
“You’re right. It won’t happen again.” He gave me a plastic smile, “Because we no longer require your services. Have a nice day, Mr. Way.”
Bryar stared at me until I stood up and backed out of the room. I couldn’t believe I just got fired. What does he mean ‘I haven’t been satisfactory?’ I’ve been coming in every day for the past two months! I always made sure the shelves were stocked, I provided excellent customer service with my extensive knowledge of comic books, and I even went on fucking coffee runs for Bryar during my breaks. Toro didn’t do shit. He couldn’t even tell Marvel from DC, and he only worked three days a week.
Well, if Bryar wanted to lose someone as valuable as me, then so be it. At least I had more time on my hands now. I walked out of the comic book shop, not even stopping when Ray asked me what happened. I felt a little guilty for ignoring him. Ray wasn’t a bad guy. I was just pissed that he had a terrible work ethic and I was the one who got fired.
Once I was out on the street I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t have anything to do now except get ready to go out to dinner with my family. I didn’t even know what to say to them. Of course they would ask about my job. I would just have to deal with that later. For now, I decided that I needed coffee. I made my way up to the coffee shop I spent the day in yesterday. When I approached the door I could see the tattooed barista named Frank through the window.
When I opened the door and the bell chimed he looked up from the latte he was making.
“Hey! Back again so soon? I’ll be right there to help you”.
One side of my mouth turned up into a half-hearted smile. Frank gave the latte to the customer in front of me with an enthusiastic “Enjoy!”
I stepped forward to take the guys place in front of the counter. “I’d like a haz-“
“A hazelnut mocha?” Frank cut me off with a grin.
“Uh, yeah.” I smiled faintly back at him. When I had my mocha in my grasp I scouted out the table I had been sitting at yesterday. He set his backpack on the padded bench next to him, and his latte on the table. Glancing at his watch he figured he had about seven hours before he needed to get home to freshen up for the family dinner tonight.
I pulled out my sketchbook and continued my doodle from the previous day. I let myself become wrapped up in my work again, only noticing the passage of time when I picked my cup up to take a sip, and I didn't feel anything hit my lip. I looked up to see the small building had become quite crowded and lively. A steady stream of customers filtered into the door to feed the line formed at the counter causing the bell to chime frequently. Men and women dressed in business casual attire sat at the tables in groups of twos and threes. It must be lunch hour.
I glanced down at my watch and sure enough, it was after noon. Three hours of doodling had produced an image of a pig dressed as a manager, a talking package of ramen, and a comic strip featuring a bum who uses his super-lazy powers to prevent giant TVs from taking over the city. Spoiler alert: he changes the channels to death.
With no motivation to draw anything else and four more hours to kill, I decided to watch the other people instead. The first thing I noticed was that everybody seemed happy. At the nearest table I overheard two women gossiping about an office romance. Across the room three teenagers were laughing at something on a phone. Even the smallest of small talk coming from the two gentlemen rigidly standing in the corner came out sounding genuinely cheerful.
I noticed that Frank the friendly tattooed barista was weaving in and out of the customers, cleaning up cups and napkins, bringing people their orders, and pausing every few minutes to make small talk. It looked like he was really into his job by the way that he did everything with a smile on his face. He befriended every customer that stayed long enough for him to greet personally. A cold feeling dropped at the pit of my stomach when I remembered I had lost my own job. I had no idea what I was going to tell my mom, but I had to think of something soon.
Feeling bored with sitting in the over-crowded coffee shop, I packed my things into my backpack and stood up.
“Not staying all day?” I heard Franks voice behind me. I turned around to see him holding a stack of empty cups and wearing a smile on his face.
“Uh, yeah. I’ve… I’ve got other things to do.” What, did he think I was a loser with nothing better to do with my time? Because I really am, but I’m tired of sitting around all of the smiling people.
“Of course you do” He replied with an even bigger grin. “You have a wonderful day, and think happy thoughts man. You never know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”
“Uh… Thanks?” I knew my face had contorted into a state of creeped-out confusion, but I hoped he didn’t catch on. I turned around and left the building.
Once I was outside I shook my head. Frank the friendly tattooed barista definitely gave me the creeps. Nobody was naturally that happy. Whatever he was on, I wanted some of that.
While I was walking home I tried to rack my brain to figure out what to say to my mom tonight. I could feel the panic start to well up inside me when I thought about the dinner. When I got back to my apartment I still had two hours to kill so I decided to run a bath. As I sat in the tub the clock ticked slowly by.
When the clock read 5:45 I decided to get out of the tub. By that time my fingers and toes had turned pruney and I felt soaked like a wet dog. I dried myself off and put the clothes I had been wearing earlier back on. I was beginning to wonder if it was too late to cancel when I heard a knock on my door. I turned the knob and pulled the door open.
“Hey Mikey.”
Ten minutes later I was stepping off the subway and running up to the comic book shop where I work. I really hoped my boss wasn’t waiting around for me. Maybe I could get in without anyone noticing my absence. There was never very much business anyway.
When I walked in the door I noticed Ray counting inventory. Ray looked up from the box on the floor and waved when he saw me. He rose to his feet and stepped forward to meet me. With his hand he motioned towards the back of the shop. “Bryar’s waiting for you. He doesn’t seem too happy dude.”
Ray gave me a look filled with concern, but I was annoyed that he had to pass me this news. Fuck. I should have known Bryar would wait around for me.
Without saying a word to Ray I made my way to my boss’ office. When I reached the back of the store, the door was slightly ajar. I knocked feebly, hoping he wouldn’t be in there. My heart dropped further when I heard a voice call “come in” from within. I pushed the door open and stepped inside the little room. The walls were lined with filing cabinets. Nearly every drawer was pulled open to some degree, revealing a disarray of papers. A desk took up most of the space in the small room, wrapping around to create a barricade for its owner. Its surface was covered with stacks upon stacks of miscellaneous papers, a large ancient computer, and a more modern streamlined laptop. On either side of the two computers there were enough coffee mugs to last a lifetime. A plaque sat on top of the tallest stack of papers that read “Bob Bryar” in silver lettering.
Behind the desk sat the owner of the plaque, and the owner of the mess. He smiled at me and waved his hand, signaling me to sit down in the chair on my side of the desk. I dropped down in it abruptly, wanting this meeting to be over as soon as possible.
“What’s going on Gerard?” He leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk with a scrutinizing glare in his eyes.
I blinked at him, not knowing what to say.
“You’ve been performing less than satisfactory lately. You’ve been slacking off in your work, and this morning you took the liberty to give yourself some extra time to sleep.
I gawked at him, my mouth falling wide open. I snapped my jaw shut and tried to gain some composure. “I… I’m sorry. It was an accident, and I’ll make sure it won’t happen again.” That’s what you’re supposed to say in these situations right?
“You’re right. It won’t happen again.” He gave me a plastic smile, “Because we no longer require your services. Have a nice day, Mr. Way.”
Bryar stared at me until I stood up and backed out of the room. I couldn’t believe I just got fired. What does he mean ‘I haven’t been satisfactory?’ I’ve been coming in every day for the past two months! I always made sure the shelves were stocked, I provided excellent customer service with my extensive knowledge of comic books, and I even went on fucking coffee runs for Bryar during my breaks. Toro didn’t do shit. He couldn’t even tell Marvel from DC, and he only worked three days a week.
Well, if Bryar wanted to lose someone as valuable as me, then so be it. At least I had more time on my hands now. I walked out of the comic book shop, not even stopping when Ray asked me what happened. I felt a little guilty for ignoring him. Ray wasn’t a bad guy. I was just pissed that he had a terrible work ethic and I was the one who got fired.
Once I was out on the street I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t have anything to do now except get ready to go out to dinner with my family. I didn’t even know what to say to them. Of course they would ask about my job. I would just have to deal with that later. For now, I decided that I needed coffee. I made my way up to the coffee shop I spent the day in yesterday. When I approached the door I could see the tattooed barista named Frank through the window.
When I opened the door and the bell chimed he looked up from the latte he was making.
“Hey! Back again so soon? I’ll be right there to help you”.
One side of my mouth turned up into a half-hearted smile. Frank gave the latte to the customer in front of me with an enthusiastic “Enjoy!”
I stepped forward to take the guys place in front of the counter. “I’d like a haz-“
“A hazelnut mocha?” Frank cut me off with a grin.
“Uh, yeah.” I smiled faintly back at him. When I had my mocha in my grasp I scouted out the table I had been sitting at yesterday. He set his backpack on the padded bench next to him, and his latte on the table. Glancing at his watch he figured he had about seven hours before he needed to get home to freshen up for the family dinner tonight.
I pulled out my sketchbook and continued my doodle from the previous day. I let myself become wrapped up in my work again, only noticing the passage of time when I picked my cup up to take a sip, and I didn't feel anything hit my lip. I looked up to see the small building had become quite crowded and lively. A steady stream of customers filtered into the door to feed the line formed at the counter causing the bell to chime frequently. Men and women dressed in business casual attire sat at the tables in groups of twos and threes. It must be lunch hour.
I glanced down at my watch and sure enough, it was after noon. Three hours of doodling had produced an image of a pig dressed as a manager, a talking package of ramen, and a comic strip featuring a bum who uses his super-lazy powers to prevent giant TVs from taking over the city. Spoiler alert: he changes the channels to death.
With no motivation to draw anything else and four more hours to kill, I decided to watch the other people instead. The first thing I noticed was that everybody seemed happy. At the nearest table I overheard two women gossiping about an office romance. Across the room three teenagers were laughing at something on a phone. Even the smallest of small talk coming from the two gentlemen rigidly standing in the corner came out sounding genuinely cheerful.
I noticed that Frank the friendly tattooed barista was weaving in and out of the customers, cleaning up cups and napkins, bringing people their orders, and pausing every few minutes to make small talk. It looked like he was really into his job by the way that he did everything with a smile on his face. He befriended every customer that stayed long enough for him to greet personally. A cold feeling dropped at the pit of my stomach when I remembered I had lost my own job. I had no idea what I was going to tell my mom, but I had to think of something soon.
Feeling bored with sitting in the over-crowded coffee shop, I packed my things into my backpack and stood up.
“Not staying all day?” I heard Franks voice behind me. I turned around to see him holding a stack of empty cups and wearing a smile on his face.
“Uh, yeah. I’ve… I’ve got other things to do.” What, did he think I was a loser with nothing better to do with my time? Because I really am, but I’m tired of sitting around all of the smiling people.
“Of course you do” He replied with an even bigger grin. “You have a wonderful day, and think happy thoughts man. You never know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”
“Uh… Thanks?” I knew my face had contorted into a state of creeped-out confusion, but I hoped he didn’t catch on. I turned around and left the building.
Once I was outside I shook my head. Frank the friendly tattooed barista definitely gave me the creeps. Nobody was naturally that happy. Whatever he was on, I wanted some of that.
While I was walking home I tried to rack my brain to figure out what to say to my mom tonight. I could feel the panic start to well up inside me when I thought about the dinner. When I got back to my apartment I still had two hours to kill so I decided to run a bath. As I sat in the tub the clock ticked slowly by.
When the clock read 5:45 I decided to get out of the tub. By that time my fingers and toes had turned pruney and I felt soaked like a wet dog. I dried myself off and put the clothes I had been wearing earlier back on. I was beginning to wonder if it was too late to cancel when I heard a knock on my door. I turned the knob and pulled the door open.
“Hey Mikey.”