I’ve been working for about a month and a half as a Quality Assurance inspector for American Apparel’s t-shirt sewing shop. I make minimum wage and put in way more effort than I am paid to, but, my nights are busy and go by quickly, so I am not thinking for hours on end about all the bad things that have happened to me. Instead, I am thinking, “Fuck, I have to stop this line and argue with the supervisor again.” Or, “12, 24, 36, 48, 60, 72, 84…” And sometimes, “Six and a half inches, that’s, like, half inch out of tolerance. I gotta’ A6 this shirt.” So, that’s good.
Right now I have to pee.