I skated to work this afternoon, a nice, sunny one, on a new enjoi deck. Taking a leisurely hour to arrive a couple neighborhoods over (which provided me ample time to land some shaky backside tailslides on my favorite granite curb), I got to work to find someone I didn’t know sitting at the computer I where usually punch out this blog.
“Hi! I’m the new employee,” she said, sticking our her hand. Zoshia looked at me with her arms crossed. “My name’s Ashley.”
I looked at Zoshia. I wondered why we would hire new people when Happy Dusty was about to close? Further more, today was supposed to be the day that people from Powell’s in Portland come to make an offer for our inventory. Zoshia told me she’d just interviewed Ashley.
“I’m working the evening shift,” she said cheerfully.
Wha-what?
“I’m working the evening shift,” I said, turning to Zoshia. “I mean, I thought I was working the evening shift.”
Zoshia shrugged. “You’re losing your Monday shift.”
“Why? Aren’t I doing a good enough job?”
Ashley couldn’t hide her smile as she followed the conversation. Zoshia made a wan smile and a so-so gesture with her hand. She told me to talk to our manager Roger about it.
“I have to sit down,” I said, taking a place on a stool. I could have been getting more hours at my other job all this time, but I wanted to stick with Happy Dusty until the end. Why was I getting shat on?
“Jesus, Joe,” Zoshia said. “We’re fucking with you! Ashley is my friend from Santa Barbara!”
The two of them broke out laughing. “And think! We didn’t even plan this!” Zoshia said to Ashley.
I glowered at her before throwing my sweaty stocking cap at her.
“Pick that up,” she snapped. “You throw something at me again and I’m throwing my fist at your face.”
I grumbled an apology as I scraped up my stocking cap.
