I've also taken on sponsorship of one of the players on my team. His family isn't in the best financial position and eventhough I, myself, might not be...I can't sit back and see a kid play a sport without the proper means. He's the most talented kid I've worked with till now and is a front-runner for the Dutch national U16 team. I promised him that I'd cop him a pair of kicks if he makes the team and he definitely will, so I kinda need to prepare for that.
Last week was Carnival here in the southern part of the country, basically a time when folks dress up in silly costumes and go out on the town with the primary purpose of binge drinking. They'd start around 2PM and end around 4:30AM. The "P" and "A" are on opposite ends of the keyboard, so no need to think I'm mistaken. Yes, 12-15 hours of nonstop boozery. Cool for them, sucks for me if I need to go through the city or use public transportation.
Anyhow, because this is a tradition for southern Dutchies, lots of businesses close for the week or shorten working hours to allow their employees the freedom to act a fool through the streets.
This week opens up a lot of work opportunities for students, because it's also a week off from school. Yes, students drink too. So I took this opportunity to work 4 shifts, Monday thru Thursday.
Not just any shift...the early shift (6AM-2:30PM).
Now, I knew this would be tough, but figured, "Hey! I could wake up and watch NBA games on the west coast and head off to work."
To make a truly long story short:
DAY 1
I was soo tired my legs began to wobble. Feet hurt, but I grinded it out. Still went to basketball practice an hour after getting home.
DAY 2
This was the toughest of the three days, I had not gotten any sleep the night before (watched maybe 7 minutes of a Celtics game). At about 7:30AM fatigue started kicking. Keep in mind, my shift ends at 2:30PM. You know how one begins to sulk when they see no end in sight. Well yeah, I sulked hard till 12PM.
In the 8 hours and 30 minutes that I'm clocked in, there are only two 15-minute breaks. The breaks are 3 hours apart, killer!!! Anyhow, there I am working trying not to think of the time and we all know when times on your mind I just about slows down the nothing. You'd swear major time has elapsed but it's only been 6 minutes. That sort of thing.
Fatigue was wearing me down, I found myself falling asleep while operating my fork-cart. Not safe at all, but hey, had to keep moving. I stopped at one point when I couldn't figure out what my scanner was instructing me to do, when that happens I gotta consult boss-lady. She wasn't at her post, so I stayed there and fell asleep on myself like only Eugene Hanson could.
Anyhow, mid-day and I decide I'll take the 15-minute break to nap. Best decision I ever made. Could finally speed up and get work done, time was no longer an issue, standing no longer and issue.
The only issue that still stood in my way was Sven. Sven is a fellow student worker from Germany. Sven is a nice guy, helping, cheery, dorky, all those things. Problem is...Sven is morbidly obese. He's about 6'3 and way over 285. This is not the issue, the issue is that Sven does NOT shower before work. Sven comes to work smelly and leaves reeking.
Now it's not all that bad the whole time, it varies as the day goes along, or should I say intensifies. We've all smelled overweight people, it's a sour, bad taste in the mouth type of stench.
In the morning (6:00-8:45) it's bareable, you can be within 2 feet of him and the scent wouldn't kill you; you'd smell it, but not die.
From 9:00-11:45 you're beginning to pull away from him a bit more and the sweat becomes visible through his oversized t-shirts.
12:00-2:30 you are running from dude, hoping you don't have an order that will put you at the same spot. Well, I had an order during the last time slot mentioned and had been workig on that order for over an hour and lo and behold, Sven was pulling his fork-cart up in my aisle. SHIT!
He didn't come in, as his order had him at the end of the aisle putting about 15-18 meters (45-50 feet) between the two of us. I thought to myself that God was on my side, keeping Sven at several arm's lengths from me, but the devil plays tricks and so does Sven's odor.
THE. ODOR. HIT. ME. HARD. FROM. 40-50 FEET. AWAY.
At the point I wanted to die. No, in fact, I wanted to DED. At least I was sure I would be. Now, it's hard to call someone out on odor charges, hard. I saw it happen to a girl in high school once and I have no idea what happened to her after that year.
The anger had now set in, I was itching to walk up to dude and put him on blast....wait, scream it from across the aisle that he needed to come correct. How can a stench be so potent that it has a 50-foot radius? Or circumference...whatever.
Day 3
Had to work with Sven again.
Day 4
And yet again
Oh, did I mention he also drove me home.
I don't wanna talk about this no more.
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