January 1982*
Muhammed may have taken his final loss in Bahama, but every day I feel more and more capable of stepping in the ring. I'm no heavyweight, coño, I'm not even a lightweight (despite what my primos would say), but what I am is fucking pissed.
It's not that hard, I told him, just follow the list behind the door. I had to sign it to let John know I understood what was expected of me, and I thought every other employee had to do that too. That's what Connie said. She also said that the new guy, MARK, was young, and that young people never follow rules.
What a load of bull. I have always been able to follow rules just fine. Never once got in trouble at home, at school, or at work. Besides, MARK knows how to follow rules just fine because he's followed protocol when people have been caught shoplifting on cameras. He knows how to log cases where kids get lost and what to do when lockdown protocols were engaged. He's just a lazy bum who thinks that the morning crew (ME!) is going to clean up after him.
I got gum on my brand new pants because he keeps sticking it underneath the desk. I even moved the trash can closer to the chair, but he doesn't care. He's lucky I remember mom's miracle remedy** to getting everything out of clothes. It's still so frustrating. I paid a lot for these, and I have to make them last. Uniforms aren't cheap and I refuse to come to work looking like a slob.***
Every morning it's crumpled burger wrappers, greasy, unfinished crossword books, empty soda cups, crusty tissues, cigarette butts, just to name a couple of things. He won't sign out of the log book even though he remembers to clock out by the door, and he keeps taking my favorite blue pens. And he always leaves the security office smelling like a skunk.
Saw a skunk for the first time on Wednesday. They are very cute and now I understand why people get sprayed by them. If I had less self-control, I would have tried to pet it. Mark would have tried. Actually, I bet he did, and that's why he stinks all the damn time. Because he's an idiot.
Paul said that if it bothered me that much, that I should bring it up with John. I thought about it. I don't want to encourage Mark's bad habits while he's still so new on the job, but I also don't want any trouble. All I want is to come into work, do my job, and go home, just like I've been doing these past three years. I would very much like for the both of us to keep our jobs. Abuelo always warned me against nailing a target to my back.
For now, I'll keep cleaning up. Not for Mark, or for John, or the Mall, but for me. It's my space for seven hours a day.
But if Mark ever says anything stupid in my direction, I'm changing the password on the desk and letting him think it actually got changed. What a great way to start the year. —M.D.
* This entry didn't have a date but after sitting on it for a hot second I figured Muhammed was a reference to the famous boxer who died a few years ago. Looking it up, turns out I was right. His last fight was in Nassau on December of '81, which would make the date Dad started working at this place around 1978.
** Rub half a lemon onto the spot, pat dry, then rub a mix of 50% Vel dish soap and 50% water. Must be Vel. Palmolive will stain. It kind of works? Nowadays I just use those detergent pens.
** He used the phrase 'puerco de fiesta en lodo', which literally translates to 'a pig partying in mud'. - Poppy