Despite my resolve to change my attitude and look at new experiences as something exciting, I quickly reverted to my comfort zone of discomfort and self-consciousness complete with my goofy "nice-to-meet-you-too" smile as I walked in to work this morning. Trish is the woman who hired me and the person whose bitch I will be. That sounds worse than it is, although I was introduced by her as "my new helper" all day. I didn't mind, I like the work just fine and I like Trish too. She's the kind of woman who fits in an auto parts store. Has anyone seen "Uncle Buck?" Remember his girlfriend? I don't remember much about her but for some reason she came to mind when I met Trish. She loves Pink Floyd. We listened to "Wish You Were Here" on the satellite radio in her office, she told me how "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" is actually about Syd Barrett, and we spent our time between phone calls looking at old pictures of David Gilmour on the internet. He was a pretty good looking guy. Trish also likes bikes, you know, BIKES. When I told Justin about her he asked if she rode a Harley. I said I only knew that she went to Daytona Bike Week and wore a bikini top with a leather vest. "Oh yeah, if she's going there and wearing that, she's not riding a Honda." Probably not.
As far as the actual work goes, I seem to just work on accounts receivable and send faxes and try the best I can to figure out how the money flows through our little office. There is a stack of hand-written notes on different colors, sizes, and ages of paper compiled from the notes of helpers-past to guide me through steps in various operations, some of which read exactly like this: "Load the checks into the check scannin thing. Make sure the lite is blinking on the scannin thing to be sure its ready..." Despite my initial revulsion to the obvious mistakes, I found that the notes were surprisingly clear and accurate, and very helpful. I know exactly what the "check scannin thing" is, and you do have to wait for the "lite" to blink before you start sending the checks through otherwise it just won't ever work.
It was a good first day, and I did learn that Napa is NAPA and that's not just a style choice it's an acronym for National Auto Parts Association, but you probably already knew that.
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