judgement

There's a guy at work that my colleagues call "Einstein." That's supposed to be ironic, because--ironically enough--he's not very smart at all. Get it? They call him Einstein, but he's stupid. They'll say things on the walkie talkies like: "Can someone tell Einstein that if you put skis on the belt, they break?" or "Einstein's bringing me Jet blue's bags." And all us educated ticket agents laugh sympathetically at the woes of dealing with inferiority. He doesn't work for northwest, but for a contracted company called Aviation which hires people to take bags from the x-ray machine and bring them to the bag belt so they can be put on the plane. A simple, unglamorous job. I don't think a master's is required.

I'm not standing on a soapbox. Einstein's real name is Gabe and I don't like him any more than my coworkers do. He's a whiny bitch. I just find it funny how my coworkers feel they are in a place to judge. There's this sense that because we're behind the counter, we're somehow better than they guys pushing the bags on the floor. In the same breath, my coworkers then will complain about how the flight attendants think they're so much better than customer service agents. Hypocritical, isn't it?

One of my coworkers once said to me, "I wish the Aviation guys would just stop coming over and talking to us," precisely while I was wishing she would stop coming over and talking to me. Funny how they think they're impervious to the same judgment they cast on others.

I judge everyone. I'm just as guilty of it as my colleagues. I look at your clothes and listen to the way you speak and I have an instant judgment about your childhood and education and intelligence. I just try to keep it to myself. Try to deny that I'm doing it. Try to correct it in my mind. That's a hard thing to change, though. You can change dietary habits and sleeping patterns, but how do you change thinking habits?

That's why I get so low doing this job sometimes. Not because I hate the job itself--it's not particularly worse than any other job I've had, and it's significantly better than a couple I can remember (loading boxes for FedEx and washing dishes at a nursing home stand out as the worst)--but because I feel debased by doing it. Maybe I'm imagining it; because I judge other people, I assume they judge me.

One day a customer was flying to Baltimore. I said to her, "going to charm city?"
"Is that what they call Baltimore?"
"Yeah, I lived there for a year and it was quite charming."
"Where abouts?"
"Near Johns Hopkins."
"Oh, so you went to school there and moved here to work this job? I bet that happens a lot." I laughed along but wanted to bust her in the fucking face. Could have been a completely innocent remark, but i didn't take it that way.

I'll never be happy if I keep worrying about being judged. There's no job that isn't looked down upon by someone else in a better position. Even the Pope might have God snickering to the angels on walkie talkies, "Benedict put his mitre on backwards again. Retard."

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Letters

Shana writes: I've never learned how to drive stick either. and i have this awful fear that one day there will be a horrendous bloody emergency or a desperate woman in labor and only a stick shift will be available for me to save the day.

I guess there's consolation in knowing women gave birth to kids long before stick shifts were invented and even without your help, parturition can occur. On the other hand, the horrendous, bloody emergency? Yeah, that fucker's screwed.

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Anelyn writes: damn that croc tooth girl! plenty of other quirky girls in portland!

No big deal, but it's always disappointing when you picture something and it doesn't come true. I already had our celebrity mash up name picked out, a la Brangelina and Bennifer. Narrowed it down to either Crocomin or Armindile.

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Kimbell1974 writes: Though you struggled, you didn't give up. Persistence is a good thing even if it's sometimes costly.

You're right, it was costly.

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Moun'ain girl writes: I found myself wanting everything to work out with a fairy-tale ending at the beginning of your story - i was charmed by your accounts of crocodile tooth and so excited for your house sitting vacation. But why did i delude myself into thinking it wouldn't be a debacle?

Because you still possess hope which, like trans fats, is just empty calories that amount to nothing in the end.

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Nimojo writes: Even though I got to hear each round in real time, I still get a good belly laugh each time I hear/read this story!

Thanks, but I'm sorry for people who live near me because they have to hear live renditions of the blog which are usually even more long-winded, if that's possible.

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Joe Kickass writes: I find that Jack Daniels is a very good seamster. Sometimes he even tells me to write.

I remember a time when Jack Daniels told you to piss on a tree regardless of steady traffic.

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Michael C writesL There was not a single, sweeping generalization in your post. What gives?

Will blog on sweeping generalizations, pros and cons, sometime in the future. Hope that's general enough for now.