McCallion
Quest

Jobs

by:  Amber Dowling

Part time jobs…to lead a Full time life    

                    According to a recent survey of journalism students at Ryerson University, 55.8 per cent of those who completed the survey have them.

          I have three.

          It’s not that I’m a workaholic; I would love nothing better than to be able to concentrate on my studies. Unfortunately, a lack of funds tells me that this is what I need to do to be in…or rather to stay in school.

          A student loan?

          I’ve been told my parents make too much. I guess they don’t want to give me all of their extra money.

          I knew that tuition would be expensive. But with my car, gas, insurance and food bills, I simply couldn’t save.

         Not to mention that my good old ‘86 Prelude spent more time in the garage than on the road. I have to remember to thank dad for that moon roof. Without it, the non-stop heat emerging from somewhere deep in the dashboard would have killed me.

          With my life full of work, school and more work, I’m beginning to think that maybe my car was trying to kill me.

It’s not that I hate arguing with a customer at Dominion over whether his bread is 10 cents cheaper than it rang in for.

          Or that I can’t handle the drunken customer who periodically visits me at The Wineshoppe and asks me to go canoeing with him.

          It’s the lack of respect.

          As I stand there in Dominion, in my itchy polyester shirt boldly decorated with a fruit and fish tie, working the 8 to midnight shift, I wonder, after almost three years, is $7.55 an hour really worth it?

          Well, of course it is…. if it keeps me in school. At least, that’s what I tell myself. That is, however, until one day I receive a visit at the Wineshoppe from my manager at Dominion.

          I had missed a shift. My class was delayed, and there was no way to make it from Toronto to Mississauga in time. I had tried calling. Dominion, however, has something called a union.

          As far as I know, the union at Dominion is used by the workers to ensure that they can’t be fired. I pay $5 a week for this privilege. The union also gives some of the more senior women the belief that they can get paid $15 an hour to talk on the phone. This belief ties up the available lines and, therefore, gives me that annoying busy hum as I try to call to inform my manager that I won’t be in.

Unfortunately, my manager doesn’t really buy into that. Apparently, she had received all of her phone calls “just fine” that day.

          It must be nice having a personal line.

          She tells me I can kiss my merit raise goodbye. My measly, 25-cent-an-hour raise. I can kiss it goodbye?

          I tell her she can kiss me goodbye.

          After my remark, my manager feels that , apparently, I have an attitude problem.

          I’m now down to two jobs. As sad as it is to lose a job…somehow I feel a sense of relief wash over me. I smile. Maybe one day I can use my university degree to become her boss. But then the ‘realistic’ me starts to think. My smile disappears.  There goes $60 a week. How am I going to put gas in my car? Will there be enough money in my bank account for my train pass? Maybe I should have thought about my somewhat  sarcastic comment before I spoke.

          I guess I really am a hothead.

          As I ponder my situation, that pesky smile reappears. I have the perfect solution. I check my wallet to see if it’s still there.

          Ah yes. My good old Visa card, the one with the picture of those lovely people having a picnic outside of some really tall building on a warm summer day.

          That should hold me over for awhile.

Now I wish I had time for a picnic. Oh well. I still have two other jobs to fall back on. One gives me free booze, and the other gives me a 50 per cent discount on clothes.