About three years ago, my sister and I started out first semester at university. She was fresh out of high school, and I was a transfer student having earned my associates degree. Because of this, I moved into an apartment near campus while my sister was forcefully inserted into a dorm, without any possibility of living off campus unless she were to commute. During this time, we'd share a car between the two of us, but since she lived practically at the center of the campus, I was in the possession of the car most of the time. Oftentimes, we would get groceries together, which primarily composed of bread and lunch meats for myself, and frozen meals for my sister. Going to and from the grocery store, I cherished these trips as a chance to check in with my little sister. Oftentimes, she'd tell me of her woes with meeting other freshmen, who were mostly just dead set on copying off of each other's work and doing as many drugs possible. I pitied her, and knew that living in a 6 by 10 feet dorm space wasn't helping her situation either. Whenever she'd used the car, it was to commute back home to our suburb to visit her friends from high school. This left me stranded and carless at times, but I tried to see these moments as a glimpse into my sister's dormlocked life.
One night while returning from a grocery run, I was driving her back to the dorms. Our conversations ranged from her shitty roommate, how mom and dad were doing, and what her friends back home were up to. I innocently teased her that she should post on instagram more, because my girlfriend and I liked spamming nonsensical comments on her posts. She faked a laugh and told me then and there that she doesn't post because she "doesn't like what she sees when she takes pictures of herself." I waivered, and danced around the edges of questions, trying to comfort her, and then myself. I told her something I can't really remember. Something about how mirrors are a more realistic reflection of ourselves as compared to a camera, which inherently distort our reality. All of this was in vain. She had said what she said. I dropped her off at her dorm, grocery bags full of frozen meals in both of her hands. Later I had half cried in my apartment near Brady street while my upstairs neighbors yelled to alexa to play blink-182 and which bars they would go to and in which order. I remember I always wanted to slap them senseless. I couldn't believe things had turned out this way.
A year later, my sister drops out of college. She moves back home to our childhood home about 25 minutes away and starts working at a local grocery store. I myself was in my last year of my degree, starting student teaching. Since it was unpaid, yet took up all my time in the week, I was on the hunt for a new job. I applied to the whole foods near my house, since my friend worked there and everyone there looks like they actually kinda cared about how they present themselves. I sent the manager an email basically begging for the damn job and he ghosts me. I consider applying to a million nearby coffee shops, as well as a bougie toy store, and even a dog daycare, but nothing really pans out. Despite being 25 minutes away, my sister tells me that her manager would hire me on the spot, and my hours would be up to me. One half interview, half math quiz later, I am a new employee at the same grocery store my sister works at.
I worked at this grocery store for about a year. Something about the lighting there made me feel alright with the fact that I would die someday. Due to how much student teaching stressed me out, I would look forward to my shifts at the grocery store throughout the week. I'd throw on my cobbler and somehow was always the happiest worker in the damn place. On top of this, I got to see my sister almost every shift, as she was working full time. Eventually I started to get bored of the place though, as I graduated later that year, and in the summer I secured a full-time teaching position and I realized it was my time to go. By that point I was less and less amused by how almost every one of my coworkers passed the time by bitching and moaning about every single thing, especially each other. "Well, I guess this is growing up."
It's only been a few months, and I already kind of miss the job. I miss helping people who don't know how to use the fast lanes (you can't take your groceries off the scale until AFTER you pay!), and talking to Loralyn about what restaurants are good in Racine, and above all I miss my sister. It's not like I don't see her anymore though. She did her hair for Christmas and there was something about it that made her look like a cool Australian indie rocker, but I didn't tell her because I don't think that would be a compliment in her world. Sometimes I see myself while opening my camera app and I think of her, and what she told me in the car those years ago. I want to cry and protect her from her own vile thoughts. I am falling on my sword.
No comments:
Post a Comment