Oof! What a week.
Upon entering my new place of employment, the wheels of corporate brainwashing immediately began to turn. Unbeknownst to me at the time, behind the scenes the corporation was setting in motion its perfectly choreographed presentation to make me think I had gotten quite a decent job; look, iis, reasonable pay! Come with us, we're your friends now, we offer flexible hours. Of course we're alright, free coffee machine priveleges.. but what about that giant crab?... don't worry about that, free coffee machine priveleges...freeee coffeeee.....
When I awoke, I discovered that I had signed up for a lifetime contract. Well, I was worried about that, but my colleagues seemed to lead more a bleak existence than a violent one, so that calmed me down a little.
I then discovered what my job was. Now, while on my 'tour' of the store, I had been worried by a giant crab that was suspended from the ceiling. Now this crab was not just 'bloody big', like those cheap crustaceans you see in Next or Gap, no, this crab is best described as 'wtf wtf wtfff massive!' Suspended about twenty metres above the shop floor, it was nearly as large lengthways as the entire building. The store is quite a sizable one, so that must give you some idea of its size.
Still in the blur of sleep, I was winched to the top of the crab. There I was given some cleaning implements, and told of my job. I must clean the 'roof' of the crab (fortunately, the force of gravity prevented dirt accumulating on the 'beneath', which would otherwise have doubled my workload.) My manager told me that a quick once over just would not do; the crab tended to get a bit manky, and so required a thorough four-day cleaning regime. Its back was divided into quadrants, and I was told to clean one quadrant per day.
Now, while I had nothing to do from Monday to Thursday except sponge shell, I had ample oppurtunity to investigate the 'crab'. It was in fact still alive, and tended to cause a slight wobble factor as it tried to escape its intricate net of supporting cables. Occasionaly the wobble factor would push 5 or even 6, and it was during these moments that I began to think of the crab's feelings. Then I rationalised that since the humble crab was one of the stupidest creatures known to man, had an IQ of roughly 'drunken irishman', and so of course was hardly aware of its plight. In much the same way, it is morally acceptable to rob and rape the stupid, eg the unemployed, since they can hardly understand what you are doing.
Now the biggest mystery was 'why is the crab here?' I just couldn't figure it out. Perhaps I should explain the environs of the crab's roof. As well as me and my cleaning equipment, there was also a system of weights and pulleys to send goods to and from the crab, a small office cubicle for me to manage the adminstrative side of things, men's knitwear (strangely deserted), and a working trebuchet (a medieval seige catapult), which seemed to serve a purely ornamental purpose.
On Wednesday I discovered that I had made a miscalculation of its intelligence, when the crab tried to telepathically communicate with me. It, of course, had a giant brain, giving it magical powers. But it was still a mystery as to what these magical powers actually were. I, of course, blocked the crab off from my mind and continued to work.
It wasn't until 7pm on Thursday that I realised the true powers of the 'crab'. As soon as I cleaned up the last bit of muck from quadrant 4, a strange hum came from the crab, and a high-pitched vibration appeared that built up in intensity. The vibrations caused the crab's steel cables to vibrate in D flat, attracting the attention of the entire store. Suddenly, the crab opened its mouth wide, and a beam of golden light shot out from within. This enticed customers from miles around, and it was then that I realised that the crab had amazing marketing powers. Well, that's another mystery solved.
On Friday, I was given a different job, officialy titled as 'Cockateel Motivator.' Now, this was a very important job, as those cockateels had been reading existential philosophy and felt that life was bleak and pointless. Many of them preferred to pack it all in by flying into the crab's mouth and be eaten. And the crab didn't give a thought to its own responsibility, but just ate all the cockateels it could. However, I don't think it had been fed for a while. Anyway, management said that we couldn't afford to lose five hundred pounds worth of cockateel, and so I was tasked with giving them something to live for. I tried all the usual things; balloon modelling, playing Cluedo, or 'the Silly Hat game', but nothing worked. In fact, cockateel suicide seemed to be steadily increasing in frequency, then I had a brainwave. I decided to earn a few points by using my initiative, and put together some plans for a cockateel disco. The cockateels helped out in all aspects of putting the party together, from sending out the invites to calling in the DJ. Anyway, we got the disco ready for that same night.
Oh, the cockateels loved it.
The morning after, management called with some news; the crab's back was now covered in comdoms, needles, and a liberal coating of cockateel droppings. Well, I don't know who to blame, but it looks like I have to start the whole Sisyphean task again on Monday.
Some context should probably be provided. I wrote this shortly before starting work at a popular discount clothing warehouse. I wish T K Maxx had been this fun. Avoid. I know you should learn the meaning of a hard day's work and all that, but in this day and age, there are many ways a bright sixteen-year-old can earn £4.75 an hour with significantly less effort.
I would reccomend shopping there, however, they really do stock designer clothes at bargain prices.