Thursday, July 22, 2010

Summer Employment



After that last adventure in Mississippi I was ready to head back home and finish out a good summer of hard work. That is, if I could find a job. I mean, the whole Textbook Game gig was pretty good, but it wasn’t giving me quite the hours I had hoped for. They only wanted so much Gonga accordion playing each day. Without flyers and the rush of students to keep him busy, Gonga was getting bored. Gonga needed more work.

Gonga strolled casually down 8th street in downtown Columbia. The lunch crowd bustled about him making it’s way along the sidewalks to various restaurants. Gonga paused in front of Starbucks. What would it be like to serve coffee? he wondered. He ventured in and stood in line behind a short man with glasses. The air conditioning seeped through his fur as the line inched along.

Finally Gonga stood at the counter.

“What can I get you?” the barista asked, peering down at her register.

“A job,” Gonga grunted.

She looked up and laughed. “We’re not hiring right now, we have more people than we can use at the moment. I haven’t gotten the hours I was promised in three weeks.”

Gonga rubbed his fingers through his hair. Sand left over from the beech sprinkled out on the floor.

“Ugh,” the girl said. “Besides, you’d get sand and fur in the coffee! We can’t hire you.”

Gonga turned and shuffled mournfully out of the shop. He tried a few more restaurants along the street, but even at Lakota’s they told him the same thing. Too many employees. Not enough hours. And please move away, you’re getting sand in the coffee.

So that’s why people don’t go to the beach. Sand. Everywhere. Gonga paused on the street corner, waiting for the cross-walk to turn white. And I thought people would appreciate a little texture in their coffee.

Oh well, not much time left in the day for looking for jobs. The Textbook Game wanted Gonga and accordion to roam the streets of Columbia that night. Bright red t-shirt with white lettering, accordion pumping Russian like themes into the streets; Gonga would publicize his company for the world to see. Or at least, those parts of Columbia where people abstained from mixing sand with coffee.

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