Thursday, May 20, 2010

The Non-epic Epic.

It's strange how even short and routine trips can be eventful when you let them.

Today, I had to leave the safety of my cave, I mean room, to go out to job management. It's quite the dull ordeal of people telling you how you could get a hold of a career and all that jazz. Except, after hearing that for so long, it kind of loses its original spark.

Anyway, a numerous things occurred to me on the hour or so I ventured into the open world. That strange, shiny, confusing, open world:

- It takes skanks 18 cars to hitch a ride from a suspicious, black minivan:
While I was waiting for my bus, next to the malodorous, balding man, I was looking to kill some pointless time. I loathe waiting so much; it's in essence the most horrid human pastime ever created. Because, basically, it's standing around actively doing nothing! If that isn't contradictory, then I don't know what is. Whilst engineering this wondrous plan, suddenly a lady person of the female kind appeared out of nowhere on the other side of the street. Now, I'd call her out on her ill demeanor, but that would be rude. But seriously though, she had all symptoms going for her: Clothes so trashy even I felt offended by the gratuity of it. A general slouch and stare that shows her extreme ennui with this wretched existence. And that oh so classy, open mouth, chewing, bubblegum trick that all the upstanding citizens of our nation do. I swear to you, I could nearly smell the STDs from where I was standing.


Then, to no surprise of mine, she starting barely lifting a finger to extend a hitchhiker thumb, only a few feet away from an actual bus stop. This, again, with as much enthusiasm as her general stance on life. It's nice to see people who are so jaded in life at such an age, they've already thrown all morals and values out the door. More casual pussy for us all, as long as you don't mind the presents you get from all previous 'testers'.
It made me remember a show, where they tested how many cars it took for people to get picked up. And in her general case, I expected the first car to make a screeching halt. But in fact, it had seemed I had too much faith in humankind. It took a numerous amounts of cars, driven by nice, single, young men, to eventually have someone stop. By the way, I love the person who fucked with her head by slowing down, only to take a turn into the street left of her. Kudos, sir.

In the end, after 18 cars had passed, a very suspicious Minivan with blinded rear windows took halt. An even more suspicious man opened the door and off she went on her adventure.

This screamed 'date rape' all over, but I'm pretty sure her appearance already kind of considered that within the favor. I'm glad at least someone is getting some today, semi-forced or not. And in the end, you can't really be upset into being pressured to share a venereal disease.


- Kids are the darnedest creatures:
No, really, kids are some of the most cruel and yet honest humans out there. Unburdened by any taught social rules, they say and do pretty much all they feel like, until somebody tells them differently.

After I waited long enough to drown in my own sweat, the bus arrived. I could already see the admiration I'd get from my first impression at the interim station. What with reeking hours of sweat and all.. So, I get on and it's fairly crowded in there, so I can't really manage to get to the back. Before I can even move forward, I get shoved in my sides. And we all love getting shoved in our kidneys, don't we? I look up to swiftly knock out a few teeth out of the culprit, only to see a child address me, even though I have my earphones in.

And here's the deal people: He wanted to know about my piercings. In fact, all the kids of the class rushed on like flies on sh..marmalade to see and ask me about my lip piercings.

I get a LOT of wind for having to metal studs through my lip. People are always going about how bad it's for my appearance and it frightens people and blablabla. Although I always keep telling them that they don't own them, so they can't know and in reality people are always more intrigued than actually scared. Again, I was proven right when random stranger infants swarmed me for questions. Do they hurt? Can you eat with those? Do you sleep with them? I've heard all these questions a million time, but I thought it was endearing these kids were so eager to know and not afraid at all to ask.  Their handlers were a bit fed up with their annoying barrage of inquiries, but I didn't mind. Then some kids grabbed my earphones to listen to what I listening to. I was blasting Remembering Never, as usual, but they seemed to dig it a lot. I should hire these kids to give a wake up call to society. It's sad to see that we only get taught preconceptions and notions about people. Which makes it all that much more sad when someone says he doesn't have any prejudices around tattoo's or piercings. If you didn't sir, you wouldn't have mentioned it and this is undeniable proof.


- Social workers are a gamble on your life:
It was time for me to arrive at my destination. I arrived at the swankiest of places I've ever seen from just an office. I was unsure if this was an interim office or if they were discovering time travel machines there. Anyway, I walk into the largest room I've ever seen in my life and I just stood there. There was no one at any front desk, because that's just how these post-modern kids roll. Sitting at desks for help? What are we, in the '90s?
 After a while I heard heels clicking and a lady asked me to wait while she summoned my appointment. I was asked to sit and wait alone in the huge room. They made me sit in one of those spherical chairs, because again, post-modern and stuff. I took some time to reminisce about how Gaston Lagaffe used to own such a contraption. But it was best if I kept that to myself, as he's not really the poster boy for a motivated worker. He's the poster boy for me though, I'll tell you that!

Right after I got bored to death with novel seating, my counselor summoned me forward. She was..special. I've never seen someone that is this chipper at work. I mean, prozac bender chipper here. I mean, someone could've died right then and there and there would still be a smile on her face so big, that it would make the Chesire cat feel shame. Tim Burton, if you are reading this by the way, stop making movies. You suck. Incidentally, Kevin Smith rules (10 points for reference).

Strangely enough, my counseling took place in the smallest room imaginable, within that fortress. It actually turned out to be quite a relaxing talk. I'm sure thats just her strategy, but even if so, that strategy works for me. Everything I mentioned was received very positively and I pretty much agreed on the same schedule I think she had in mind. This was some awesome counseling skills and I tell you, it doesn't always go that way.

It's really always a gamble if you will do well or not, not because of your own merits, but for the one on the other side of that table. Basically, they control a lot of power over you and if they're good to you, you'll advance and prosper. But for the same reasons, you might get stuck with someone who hasn't your best interests in mind and thus you'll fall way short in the job market and start resenting jobs in general. Whether your life is going up or down is really up to them and their ability to cope. In the past I've had some truly horrific encounters that really made me resent jobs and counseling:  Usually, I'm better than that as to drop names, but ask around. Anyone I've met that has also met her, can't get negative enough about her. In no way shape or form should she be assisting people in such a delicate matter. And I say this as a professional and a graduated social worker. I believe everyone should follow their calling and this obviously isn't hers.

But it also made me wonder why I always anticipate the worst of these events. In truth, this ordeal of counseling has gotten me down for a few weeks already, since I heard the dreaded news. It's just so heartbreaking to go through the same cycle over and over and get forced to shove failure down your throat every single time. But in this case, the pill was at least filled with sugar and coated with chocolate for gentle insertion. It now feels like such a vast amount of wasted time. Although I always loathe a change in my daily rut. I'm just autistic like that. Perhaps I can see towards changing this attitude, but it's much too early to see about that. But it is a welcome start. I'm relieved things turned out to be rather smoothly. Especially since we agreed on helping me in my general checkup case from the government. I'm a downright mess when it comes to organize these things, so I'm glad I won't have to ask the counselors at the VDAB for help. Because they have never helped me with anything on that part. And for that fact, neither has my union, that I pay for. More so even, they've even helped kicking me down a few times and aided me getting suspended, rather than aiding me out of said inspection.
Thanks for agreeing with the inspector that I'm a worthless bum, dude. I though you were my friend here. But it's nice to see you chose your buddy's side.
Dick.

No comments:

Post a Comment