Member-only story
To The Men Who Tell Women To Suck It
Mouths have teeth
For six years, I worked at an amusement park. Service jobs tend to ripen you for misanthropy, but there is nothing like putting on a uniform and dehumanizing yourself so that others may enjoy their day, all while listening to the same ten tracks of Africanized park music on a loop for six years straight. I encountered a good cross-section of humanity during my sentence, and what I saw did not inspire confidence in the general trajectory of civilization. The only way I endured was through commiseration with my co-workers. We suffered together, but in that suffering, we created a heaven out of hell. My misery never lasted long in their company, so it was rare that something a guest did would follow me home to sit on my chest and prey on my mind.
It was a Friday night in the fall of 2010, and I was working the second-worst shift at the second-worst position at the best coaster in the park during a Halloween-type event, so it was a nightmare on steroids. By this time, I had two years worth of scarring work experience under my belt, so I took the obnoxious, violent, needling, ridiculous, and disgusting behavior of people queuing in stride. Mostly. Nothing, I thought, can faze me. By that point I’d broken up fights, had people wish death upon me for directing them to the second row, had to pour kitty litter on pee, poop, and vomit…
