Thank You, Thank You, I'll Be Here All Week!

When I first moved to Portland, fresh off the boat from Sydney and just over a year out of college, I found a job at the Wild Oats natural foods store in Hillsdale as a cashier. It took a month and three interviews to finally land the job, and though it wasn't my dream career, I was happy to have an income. I was paid $7.50 an hour to learn produce codes, play "Bagger Tetris" with people's groceries (fitting as much as possible in a paper bag while leaving no holes, and, of course, speed counts), and chat with the shoppers as they came through my line. It wasn't bad work, and I made a bunch of cool friends there.

After 60 days as a cashier, it was time for my performance evaluation. While I agree with the concept of these evaluations, and I take pride even in the shittiest of jobs, I take employer feedback with a grain of salt if I'm not earning a living wage. Want me to smile more? Then pay me enough to send in my rent check. Anyway, my evaluation came back with an almost perfect score, the only criticism being that I "make jokes that the customers don't understand."

For example:

It's ten o'clock at night, just before closing, and a customer comes through my line with a half gallon of milk, a box of cereal, and a container of orange juice.

Me: (grinning) So, picking up a little bit of dinner?
Customer: No. (looks confused) It's breakfast.
Me: (rolling my eyes, sighing loudly, smacking my hand to my forehead in exasperation) Oh! God! I'll never get it right!
Customer: (still looks confused)
Me: Ohh-kay. Well, have a good breakfast.

I appreciate a good sense of humor, which is why I'm having a hard time here in Ely, Nevada. The people don't smile here, and I think my attempt at humor today in the grocery store actually pissed off my cashier. He didn't take out his anger on me, though, but on Mother Nature. Showing his distaste for my humor, he bagged my five items in not one, but THREE plastic bags. Screw you, bald girl. And screw you, whales and dolphins!

So, I've been forced to make jokes to the most captive audience in Ely: myself. Behold, my daily to-do list:

Yes, Ely, Nevada is so removed that there is nary a recycling bin, no organic produce, and nothing much to smile about, apparently. But I'm going to stick it out for another day, try to make a friend or two, and laugh at my own jokes. Because somebody's got to do it!

Here are some pictures.

Pyramid Lake, Nevada. The prettiest thing I've seen so far (the scenery, not the woman in the picture. I'd say she's the second prettiest).

The shoe-covered tree on "The Lonliest Road". With nothing around for miles, smack in the middle of the desert, was this stunning art installation. Thousands of shoes hanging from this lone tree, and even more covering the ravine from which it grew. This was my best surprise yet. It's hard to tell in the picture, but there are shoes all over the thing, all the branches, even at the top. Jaw-droppingly beautiful!