Fear and loathing in the Gap fitting room

Yesterday while waiting for Jason to try on clothes at the Gap, I overheard two employees' conversation:

"I'm feelin' it today," one said to the other, "today's the day I'm gonna punch someone in the face."
"I hear ya," the other replied, "I had to walk off the floor at one point."

It went on like that for a minute or two. I couldn't help but wonder if they thought I was cruisin' for a bruisin'. What poor taste to speak so nastily about customers who were in clear view and earshot, I thought. They should save that kind of talk for the break room. At least then people may mistake their miserable mugs for the result of a non-work-related problem.

Then I realized that's easy for me to say, now that I have a full-time writing job I thoroughly enjoy. There was a point during my brief stint as a Starbucks Barista when everything, from the sound of the coffee timer dinging to a customer's request for the bathroom key, made me want to spew expletives. At the time, I told myself I hid my loathing sufficiently. In reality, the look on my face (even behind a forced smile) probably said it all. Perhaps I might as well have been one of those Gap girls.

I've decided that enjoying my job is something I should never take for granted. And I'll always tip my Barista.