"...and can't talk about my job." That's what Glenn told me the other day. He has been very unhappy since being transferred a few months back. Well, truth be told, he hasn't enjoyed his job much at all, but it has gotten a lot worse since he was transferred. But, I'm a girl (obviously) and girls like to talk, even if its about the mundane nothingness that happens every day. Even about the crappy stuff. That's how women (at least me) deal. We talk. So, it is very hard for me to pretend Glenn is a super secret spy and can't discuss his job, no matter how much he hates it.
A few weeks ago we found out that he was going to be placed on a new route in November. I have been hoping that this route would be better and help him find at least some happiness in slinging bread. But, no such luck. Today he ran the route with the guy who had been running it previously. When he came home he told me that one of his stops is the hospital and he shares a loading dock with the medical examiner so the other driver told him "not to be surprised if there's a dead body on the dock." Eeeeww!! He then asked if I remembered when he first got transferred and one of the other drivers was telling him how he saw some pimp beating up one of his hoes (sorry for the frankness, but those were the other driver's exact words) while he working. Glenn had joked that he was glad that wasn't his route. Well, now it is. Crap. I guess this isn't going to work out to be the great opportunity I was hoping. I just want to cry, and I'm pretty sure Glenn feels the same way.
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