April 8, 2013

I started my first job today. It's only part-time, but I really, really like it. I'm so proud of myself! Sir Mark, my boss, said that he wouldn't be around much, but he said that I would meet him at least twice a week. I will work here for four days a week, so that means I will work two days a week without my manager's direct supervision. I'm not sure if that's normal? But I don't have any complaints yet!

My job is also relatively easy. I will be pasting this sheet of paper that contains all of my responsibility as an employee in my journal so that I wouldn't forget it. Sir Mark gave it to me. He said that I shouldn't take it way too seriously, though. But I want to do great in my first ever job.

I will also be working with a man named George Santiago; apparently, he will be my team leader. He looks very reliable, and I also think he's two times bigger than me! He's huuuuuge! I think he's about 6 feet 2 inches? He also smokes a lot, but he would always restrain himself from doing so while on duty. I don't really mind him, but he's quite unfriendly, and he would look at me with these super scary eyes. I think he hates me? Sir Mark reassures me that George is a "good kid," and I am inclined to believe that because he's very patient with me even after all the mistakes I've made. Earlier, I was shaking and struggling hard while manning the cashier. George helped me a lot, and he sounded very warm and understanding. I'm also lucky that the customer at that time is very patient and didn't seem to mind my mistakes much. I have a lot to learn!

I am working in a convenient store named Lawson. It's on the ground floor of this super grand, extravagant hotel; it's so tall that I have to lean my head back really, really hard so that I could peek at the rooftop. I could even swear that it's literally piercing the skies. It's magnificent!

We also have some regular customers that George told me to remember. Apparently, many people are living at this hotel, and they loved buying food and snacks in Lawson. Most of them are kind, like that one lady named Veronica, who wanted to give me three bars of Hershey's as a welcoming gift. Of course, I have to refuse. Nevertheless, she insisted that I should take it, so I did. I hope I did the right thing! The chocolate bar tastes SO GOOD, so I have no complaints! She's so kind and so pretty and so mature! Her hair is so long and so absolutely dark that I get so entranced by them! Her high cheekbones are also amazing! It reminds me of Maleficent! But unlike that character, Veronica is a very sweet person! George told me that Veronica comes in the shop almost every day. (Note: I also find her a bit familiar, but I can't remember where I saw her face. George said that she often does advertising and often talks in TV shows, so maybe that's where I saw her.)

However, if there are some generous and kind regulars, there's also one whom I would categorize as weird. Gosh, I hope no one gets to read my journal! I might get fired for writing this! So that's why people hate it when someone else reads their diary!

Anyway, I'm talking about the second regular customer who appeared today—George said that there are a lot more regular customers, but he doubts if they'll be coming during my shifts—my shift is Friday to Monday.

The second regular customer who came today is a rather flashy folk, albeit he only wears a black suit, black tie, black pants, and black shoes when I saw him. The only thing that is not dark about him is his undershirt and his skin; he's so pale! George told me he has some kind of sickness and once in a while, he gets paler than this. Ghastly pale, even! I was about to pity him a bit until he opens his mouth. He has a very alluring voice, very cheerful but deep. He sounds like a friend, but at the same time, it feels like he's also my worst nightmare. He bought some snacks and went straight into the counter while George is teaching me how to operate the cashier. He was wearing this thick pair of brown shades at that time. When the regular customer finally noticed my presence, he hurriedly took his glasses off and looked at me while biting his lips. George groaned after seeing this and warned the man before us that I'm just a fresh recruit, and he should not scare me. George frightened me a lot while he's saying that!

The regular customer just shrugged at what George said as he hung his shades on his collar. For a while, he started stroking his chin as if he's casting some sort of spell on his chiseled jawline. I then saw the corners of his lips perk up. He then winked while pointing his fingers at me. Then he said that I looked really cute and that I'm his type. He even added that my skin looks so smooth and how he 'likes his boys that way.' He then bit his lips again and hummed, "Mmm!" with his hands on his waist.

At that point, I was already feeling very, very uncomfortable. I don't think I will like this customer much if the first thing he does after talking to me is to make inappropriate comments about me. George saw my palpable discontent. He then told me to leave the cashier in his care for now and asked me to arrange the shelves instead. I unwillingly complied, but I was also slightly relieved. I didn't know much about what happened between them, but I do know that the regular customer left a few minutes after that. George then talked to me about it and apologized for what had just happened. He told me it wasn't cool for that customer to do that and that I shouldn't let it get on my head. I said that I'm okay, and I feel better because of his supervision. George just sighed and continued telling me more about what I should do while on-duty, like mopping and inventorying.

Then George told me I should leave early today, but from my next shift onwards, I will follow my schedule again.

I then walked home. The Lawson is not that far from my uncle's house, so there's no need for me to hail a cab. However, after a few minutes or so, while I'm walking on the sidewalk, a black, expensive-looking car suddenly parked beside me. The tinted windows of the backseat area of the vehicle then rolled down, revealing the man inside. There, I saw that familiar cheeky smile of that regular customer I have met earlier as he stroked his chin with his fingers. He then apologized for his indecency earlier while still showing that arrogant-looking smirk of his. He's also wearing a fresh pair of shades that had a violet frame. I told him it's okay, and I didn't mind what happened, but at that point, I was already feeling like I'm about to have a panic attack again. The man then suddenly showed a clearly fake frown and said that he really minded his actions. He said that he wanted to apologize by treating me for dinner and taking me back home safely. No weird shit, he said. He kept repeating it—no weird shit.

But THIS IS weird shit. What is happening right now is the very definition of what weird shit is!

I then told him in a rather angry tone that I do not appreciate his very inappropriate behavior and said to him that I would call the cops if he won't stop. That was when he finally showed a bit of genuineness on his face. A shocked expression crept up on his face once he heard my words. He then chuckled lightly at me as he handed his business card at me. He told me that I should at least take it, so he would feel better. But what about me? I'm still not feeling better. And I definitely would not feel any reconciliation just because I took my harasser's business card.

Nevertheless, I took the damn card ever so cautiously so that I can get out of this situation. I tried my hardest to stay as far away from him as possible. I did this so I could run away if ever he does some 'weird shit.' I then noticed the gold ring on his ring finger that's studded with many small diamonds. I shook my head and swiftly took his business card. He then gestured to me that I should call him before raising his tinted window again. He then drove off promptly.

That was when I looked at the card and finally got to learn his name—George didn't really introduce me to him; I don't blame George. It was a simple black card. It even looked like he made it from some kind of free business card maker software on the net. That was when I realized that I know this man. And I can't believe that I have just now realized it. I couldn't even write his name properly as I'm writing this journal entry. 

My stomach would churn uncontrollably every time I remember his face. I would see nothing but darkness along with the stench of blood and rotting flesh on the air every time his name would flash on my head. 

I was planning to throw this stupid and ugly business card once he's far away from me, but I just can't do it. I don't know why. Something inside of me is telling me to keep it. So I took it home with me.