I hate the idea of having to work, so I've picked jobs based on what would be most amusing to do. One summer I worked for an upper-class bakery. "God," I thought, "I am going to meet so many rich people that I am going to hate and make fun of. This is going to fill my well of hatred."
That's the same way I felt about the Container Store. I was like, "The Container Store? That would be hilarious if I worked there. That place has to be full of douchebag situations that I'm going to want to laugh about later, when I no longer have such a shitty life that I have to work at the Container Store."
They put me through an eight hour "foundation training day" and by the end of it I was like, "I love containers. Everything needs to be put in a container." I was helping everyone. Oh, you have a dog? Here! Here is a container for your plastic poop bags. You will also need containers for your anti-depressants. You have cancer? Well then you will need a container for all your medications and your hair. Every problem can be solved by containers! It got to the point where I couldn't wait to die, because then I could be buried and placed in a coffin, the ultimate container.
I ended up walking out on my job there because the weirdos at the Dallas HQ were using the surveillance cameras to spy on their employees in different stores. They made a specific call to my location in Manhattan to instruct one of our floor managers to remind me not to lean on the cash registers. I left flipping off every camera I could find with my pants around my ankles.
I thought ignoring their phone calls for two weeks would be enough, but they didn't fire me and instead asked me to come in and officially quit. I don't know why I did it. Its not like I cared about leaving things on good terms, it wasn't like I needed a letter of recommendation for a new career at Bed Bath and Beyond. When I got to their offices they asked me if I had brought a letter of resignation. What?? No! Of course I didn't bring a letter of resignation. The last time I was here I was escorted out while screaming "I will not contain myself." I am high right now. So, "No, I did not bring a letter of resignation."
"Okay," the manager smiled unconvincingly, "I will just get you a blank piece of paper and a pen. Let me know if you need any help."
"Yeah, actually, I will need some help," I said. "Would you mind holding the paper down while I trace my middle finger?"