Destroying the Tower of Label

It's brilliant, this temping atmosphere. I think it works on a sliding basis. They let you feel calm for a few days and then they threaten you. Today's threat was brilliant and terrifying. . .

We all arrived to work finding out that the Sassy Black girl had been let go. There was a shock in the group, apparently yesterday she messed up majorly. It's like the And Then There Were None. Everyone was expecting her to be booted out, but what terrified me was now that she's gone. Who is next?

The Sassy Black Girl was the "shoe in" for worst worker. I had one personal moment with her really, no two, now that I realize. I'd like to share them with you now:

Moment #1

IGUANA: I'm seeing a guy.
SASSY BLACK: U da top or bttm?!
IGUANA: Excuse me?

Moment #2

SASSY BLACK: We gotta wurk 2getha! We be-so funni!
IGUANA: Are you literate?

Needless to say, I will miss her.

Everyone worked and I had to work with the man from the post office. He is straight and moved here to be a comedian. His hair is graying at 25 and he has a homophobic tone in his voice. He is from Virginia and probably voted for Obama. He is here trying to be an sketch writer. He promptly stopped to chuckle about "Tom Queen" while reading the names. I asked him if he had made many friends since moving to the city in December?

He quickly muttered with, "I have a girl I am currently dating."

I shot back, "That's the only person you hang out with?" He chuckled to himself and then punched me for being a fucking faggot. He wouldn't laugh at anything I said, so we sat in silence for the better part of the 8 hours. Labeling and silence. On top of it all we were at a table that was behind a huge pillar. So we were hidden from most of the small talk from other tables.

Throughout the day people chatted while labeling. Making jokes and texting on their phones. They did this proudly because the Head Temp insinuated that texting was okay . . .The disaster was obviously going to happen, and here I was hiding behind a column. Actually doing solid work! Ironic Gods!

The Latina woman came in, looking pregnant as usual. She promptly yelled at all of us for using our phones. The morale in the room plummeted and everyone stood around like scolded children. Scolded students, when in fact we all were. Newly graduated from college and this the first work we'd had in months. The first job in a year! And we couldn't label correctly? What kind of cruel play was this?

Somewhere deep inside, I chuckled at the Latina woman's poor grammar. But I was behind a pole!? Why must I be reprimanded too? I am not guilty. . . today. What was more interesting was how everyones insecurities appeared. I saw people I've watched for weeks turn into animals. . .

The Head Temp looked like a sad puppy because something had happened in the hall. The Latina women spoke to him and he no longer cocky and arrogant. People's minds and insecurities were running wild. One girl in the group who was quiet and perfect, she always smiled. The entire day felt like anything you talked with her about, she was always agreeing with you. Always being modest in someway. A creature who means no harm to the world, I saw her smile drop. Since she smiles more often than she frowns, her frown somehow curved upward. Still happy for her mistakes.

Another girl's complete insanity came out. The nervous office girl, fearing for her job. She was told this was the only temp job that hires long term! Did the Head Temp name names? She had her phone out only a second before the Latinas entered the room. Was she on the cutting block! She could kill the Head Temp!

People compete in temping? When did this happen?

I took a lexapro and calmed down. It's ridiculous, but it's a job. It's probably just a threat to put you in your place. I keep repeating: I'm a Temp. I have to believe that and not feel like my integrity is challenged because I'm not fit to put labels on a paper. That because I may have been making a small joke to make people laugh and some angry Vice President walked by and wondered "Why is that temp smiling?! They must go!" Then I must walk to my doom, but today I was behind a pole. A survivor of a horrible explosion because of this pole. I was behind a fucking pole not making small talk, not texting and talking softly. The bomb went off and I should have been the one talking loudly, but the other temp homo was. I looked to him and saw he suddenly looked sick.

An endangered spieces! He may be next to go!?

Or was it all some little joke. A warning? We're not a Hive Mind.