$8.25 An Hour Used To Be Awesome

I used to work for Quiktrip, I loved it. I was 17 when I was hired and 26 when I left.

In high school, I was one of two of my friends who had a job, and thus, money with which to spend ineffectively and on things I didn't really need. I bought a three THOUSAND watt stereo and woofers that I couldn't turn up too loud or the vibrations would make the trunk open instead of fixing the damn trunk and only getting a one thousand watt setup. however, I was young and dime rich and life was good. I find myself missing that right now.

I quit Quiktrip without my two weeks notice because a man in expensive shoes told me that he would pay me much more to not have to clean toilets and tell panhandlers to scram. I was let go because he meant to hire a magician instead of a technical writer.

Put your genitals here!

"You should read more," the dentist offered immediately after firing me for not getting him onto the front page of the WSJ, "that's how writers get good." 
Well, thank you for introducing me to The Legend of Writ, but I've gotten a handle on this newfangled "communication" whatsit. I knew for the entirety of my employment that the dentist's biotech side venture didn't really need a technical writer, but I stayed on, putting together presentations and writing SEO fluff. As it turns out, he didn't want any of it because all four of his writers were supposed to be working our magic and making him famous.   

Just an aside before I go on: if you find yourself thinking "I am a good communicator, but no one around me is a good listener" you probably know nothing about communication. 

He would call his 15 minute stream-of-consciousness styled infodumps "downloads." Each time he downloaded, the writers were supposed to be inspired by it--a fragment of his intellect--and mold it into... I have no clue what he thought we were supposed to utilize from it. God forbid having a question, contacting him was a Sisyphean task. 

I can deal with ridiculous bosses, but to have advice given to me from a dentist (granted he was a decent fellow and an excellent dentist) about a craft in which I am eight years educated is as heinous as... I don't know... let's say a bloody technical writer giving a dentist tips on flossing. 

I only have one regret "working" for Dr. Youmustbejoking. 

Upon being fired, I didn't answer his advice with, 

"go cuddle a table saw."