At some point during my formative years, I posited that being a clerk at a record store would be the best possible job. I never had luck securing such a position (now, record stores hardly exist), but I did procure an interview at a coffee shop. This was before Starbucks entirely monopolized this market. I applied and interviewed at a location just a block or two from my school (this was a small local chain). The manager, Sue, introduced herself. She had cuffed jeans, boots, and short hair, with a Clash pin on her bag. Through some small talk, I learned that she was in a band that was influenced by Gang of Four. She left me with a handout concerning how coffee is grown and prepared and told me to return for a quiz within a week. Upon being hired, I was told that I would also have to work at three other locations regularly. This was okay; I can’t say no to much anyway. All of my co-workers were of course very hip. Two of whom were also in Sue’s band, one with short pink hair (...
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