Blue-collar Pew & The Perils of Trying to Make a Girl Smile

Well dear readers, the Pewster has finally decided to become the responsible adult she swore she'd never be: I'm buying a wee flat in Ghent. The notary is drafting the deeds to the property and I expect to sign them within the next few days. I won't elaborate much for the time being, as I don't want to jinx the deal until it's safely sealed, but suffice it to say that it is highly likely that I will be committed to mortgage down payments some three months from now. I am also, as you may well remember, still acutely unemployed. (Or as the parental unit chooses to call it: "A Doctor in Science probing the job market").

While I am still in the running for the two jobs I've applied for and while I have another interview lined up for Friday, the impending doom of down payments has somewhat spurned me into action. I signed on with a job agency last Friday and because I've refused any lab or office positions, I have been assigned a blue-collar job in a warehouse for Surf & Snowboard gear. I'm ashamed to admit that this is the first time I've ever done a job that isn't even remotely related to the higher brain functions. And it turns out to be an experience long overdue.

My first day on the job has been quite a shock to my system. It's an entirely new experience for me to be treated as if you've no intelligence whatsoever, just because of the type of job you're carrying out. The foreman assumed I'd be slow on the uptake and literally went over everything three times. After explaining to me what to do with the yellow and blue labelled items, he promised me he'd explain the green labelled items tomorrow, because "two new things is quite a lot to process on your first day". I really had to bite my tongue not to comment.

The contrast with my PhD research couldn't possibly be greater. I remember entering the Neurology Department of the hospital in Zurich on my very first day there and being greeted by the head of the department with the words: "So, what's your plan of attack for the day? How are you going to set up this experiment?". I remember feeling utterly nauseated at the thought of the responsibility I had with respect to the patients and the fact that he assumed I'd be capable of figuring everything out for myself. Back then, I often pondered the potential joys of a job without responsibilities. But after today, I can safely say that I actually really derive a weird satisfaction of that nauseated feeling of being slightly out of my depth and that I could probably never be happy doing a job without it.

The task at hand today was so mind-numbingly menial that I decided to set myself a little target challenge. About an hour later, the foreman told me I was working too fast. Apparently there's only enough work for 6 weeks worth of temping and if we work too fast, there's a risk that people will not have a paid job in 5 weeks time.

So I really needed another challenge. And man did I find a good one. The warehouse just so happens to be a bit of a lesbian hot spot and shortly after I arrived, a girl introduced herself to me with a big knowing smile. The penny didn't drop fast enough and for a while I got distinctly worried about how quickly she'd picked up on my gayness, just on the basis of my looks. But then it clicked... she'd a stamp on her hand and had clearly been at Spass this weekend. She must have spotted me there. This in turn triggered another bout of panic at just how drunkenly I must have been for her to have noticed me there. Was I swinging off poles or dancing on top of the bar?!? :s At any rate, the workplace was soon teeming with friendly smiling lesbians in the know. Except for one.

Sexy When Angry (SWA) stalked through the building all morning with aggression oozing from every single one of her movements. She kicked every box she came across with an angry grunt, never once cracked a smile and basically ignored me completely. So, to make my day ever so slightly more interesting, I set myself the challenge of making her smile before the day was up. But to add to the challenge, I set a rule that I wasn't allowed to talk to her. So I had to make her smile without ever talking to her. Not talking to her was easy. She was wearing headphones and even from 4 meters away I could hear she was doing some serious eardrum damage. Making eye-contact didn't seem to work, which complicated matters somewhat.

But then, SWA unwittingly turned the odds in my favor. She was conducting a forklift with a 3 meter pile of heavy boxes near where I was stacking some stuff. As I bent forward to pick something off the ground, stuff came crashing down all around me from behind. SWA had lost control of the forklift and the entire pile had caved in my direction. If it hadn't been for the freak chance of me bending forwards that exact moment, I would very likely have been in hospital with some serious injuries right now. The entire warehouse went dead quiet. SWA had turned completely pale and stared at me in sheer horror. Taking stock of the situation, noticing all my limbs and fingers were still attached to my body, I just turned to her with a smile and winked at her. Five seconds later, her expression of anger and horror had turned into a big smile of relief. Mission accomplished.

*sigh* what one wouldn't do to make a girl smile ;-)

Anyway. All in all, the job is ok for the temporary purpose it serves. And at any rate, any place irresponsible enough to let Pew run around with a Stanley knife, is worth a venture ;-)

I'll take my mp3 audio lectures with me tomorrow to keep my brain occupied during the menial tasks. I'd reached the lectures on Nietzsche by the time I fell ill in Argentina, but I suspect that the fever might have skewed my hearing and interpretation of the grand master to a pretty large extent. Nothing better than a healthy dose of Existentialist Angst whilst carrying out a Sisyphus-esque job ;-) Just hope no one wants to hear what "music" I'm listening to. No desire to out myself as geek just yet...