11.13.01
As I was leaving the mall after work, I recognized a friend of mine that I haven't seen in a while.
Jeremy used to be the receptionist/graphic artist/peon at Transitions when I worked there, before my exciting term of employment at Younkers, but I already knew him from my contacts within the strangely incestuous network of people living in this town.
Strictly as an aside, it's easier to play six degrees of anyone in three steps or less in this town than anywhere else on the planet. Everyone I know happens to know someone else I know, or at least someone who knows someone else I know. It is kind of creepy.
And that's how I know Jeremy. He was a friend of a friend who became a friend of mine, and then a coworker, co-conspirator and confidant, and is now apparently the person who changes trash bags and sweeps in the mall, late at night.
Since I've known him, he's been a espresso maker, a receptionist, a cartoonist, several varieties of food service workers, a telemarketer several times over, a sorter at a consignment shop, has worked in the generic retail fashion field, currently works in the frame shop of an art supply store, and cleans the mall.
I'm sure he's done a lot more than that in the last 10 or so years.
He told me that he hadn't really wanted to take the cleaning position, but the job that he has that he really enjoys doesn't pay enough to support his meager lifestyle, and it got me thinking about this town. I mean, for being in Iowa, it's a pretty cool place to live. There are a lot of interesting people that live here, and a fair amount of interesting things to do, I suppose. But I don't think that I'd work a series of dead end, low paying jobs in order to afford living here. I certainly wouldn't work for a janitorial service, despite the nobility of the profession and all.
In fact, I would sooner gnaw off my left foot to get out of a bear trap than pick up after the low-lifes that habituate the mall. It's bad enough picking up after myself for free, I certainly don't need to be cleaning cigarette butts out of a big cement ashtray with a kity litter pooper scoop to pay the damn rent.
Jeremy, get the fuck out of this town already.
Really.
