Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Downward Spiral
I was half asleep in about my third job for that year. I knew I wasn't going
to last long. I preferred reading comic books, not selling them.
Someone came up to the till, comic book in hand. Barely looking at them, I rung
it up, holding my hand out for change. All the while my head was in my hand.
I handed them their change, still not looking at them, before going back to
daydreaming.
I got fired that day.
Now, the problem with New Jersey is that, aside from the area I lived in being
rough, after a year or so, I'd been through nearly every job I could have had.
My job after that was in Starbucks. With each customer that came, I just
scribbled down the order, not looking at them, before bustling off to fetch it.
Would you believe it? I got fired from that job too...
My final job before, as the guys called it, 'the big break' was in a record
store.
I was sat listening to my MP3 when someone handed some CD's over. I took one
earphone out and rung them up. I looked at one of the CD's - The Misfits. It was
on my MP3 at that moment.
Shaking my head, I slid them into a bag held my hand out for the money.
"Are you following me?" I looked up at the customer...then slowly
at the four browsing aimlessly around the shop. My mouth mentally dropped a few
feet.
"Uhh...no," What else was I meant to say to the lead singer of a
local, internationally famous band?
"Really?" He handed me the money. "Because you've been in about
every comic store I've been in, in New Jersey, every record store and, as of two
weeks ago, Starbucks," I smiled slightly, shrugging.
"I go through jobs like men," I handed him his change and he headed
off to the group near the punk rock section.
If you haven't guessed, that was Gerard Way...
Yeah, that was how I met him, in my god-knows-what-number job. Great that, isn't
it?
I just watched a moment, mouth still mentally hanging a few feet before shaking
my head, sliding the discarded earphone back into place in my ear, and going
back to counting the cracks in the floor.
A few moments later, a shadow fell over me.
I looked up with my eyes before my head followed. I took my earphone out again.
"What?" I asked Frank, stood looking down at me. I got the distinct
impression he'd been sent over for some reason.
"You have great make up, who does it?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"You came over here to ask about my make up?" He nodded. The night
before, I'd been unable to sleep. I'd been up from about six in the morning and,
having been through 'beauty school' yet failing to get a passing grade, been
doing my make up. The product had been a lot of orange eye shadow to 'set off'
my green eyes and purple lipstick. My eyeliner had to be what earned me a medal,
though. I'd spent half an hour painting the intricate swirls onto the side of my
face.
My hair, unlike my make up, had had less care taken over it. I'd just thrown it
up into a ponytail; so a few strands were now hanging loose around my face, and
shoved some wooden, glazed sticks into where the hair bobble was.
For an early morning attempt, it wasn't half bad.
"Umm...I...do my own make up," I answered hesitantly. Well, there was
my job flying out of the window.
"Oh...cool..." There was a small pause. "You know, we're running
short of a make up artist...and we really need someone who'll be a permanent
worker, not someone we're supplied with..." I blinked a few times.
"I have a simple mind, elaborate..." I said, leaning back in my seat.
"Okay, we need a make up artist, do you want the job," I stared, this
time not blinking.
"Hey, is she still alive?" I heard from somewhere in the distance,
forcing me to come back to my senses.
"Umm..." I coughed, sitting up. "Eh, why not," It wasn't
like I was going to be working where I was much longer. "When do I
start?"
to last long. I preferred reading comic books, not selling them.
Someone came up to the till, comic book in hand. Barely looking at them, I rung
it up, holding my hand out for change. All the while my head was in my hand.
I handed them their change, still not looking at them, before going back to
daydreaming.
I got fired that day.
Now, the problem with New Jersey is that, aside from the area I lived in being
rough, after a year or so, I'd been through nearly every job I could have had.
My job after that was in Starbucks. With each customer that came, I just
scribbled down the order, not looking at them, before bustling off to fetch it.
Would you believe it? I got fired from that job too...
My final job before, as the guys called it, 'the big break' was in a record
store.
I was sat listening to my MP3 when someone handed some CD's over. I took one
earphone out and rung them up. I looked at one of the CD's - The Misfits. It was
on my MP3 at that moment.
Shaking my head, I slid them into a bag held my hand out for the money.
"Are you following me?" I looked up at the customer...then slowly
at the four browsing aimlessly around the shop. My mouth mentally dropped a few
feet.
"Uhh...no," What else was I meant to say to the lead singer of a
local, internationally famous band?
"Really?" He handed me the money. "Because you've been in about
every comic store I've been in, in New Jersey, every record store and, as of two
weeks ago, Starbucks," I smiled slightly, shrugging.
"I go through jobs like men," I handed him his change and he headed
off to the group near the punk rock section.
If you haven't guessed, that was Gerard Way...
Yeah, that was how I met him, in my god-knows-what-number job. Great that, isn't
it?
I just watched a moment, mouth still mentally hanging a few feet before shaking
my head, sliding the discarded earphone back into place in my ear, and going
back to counting the cracks in the floor.
A few moments later, a shadow fell over me.
I looked up with my eyes before my head followed. I took my earphone out again.
"What?" I asked Frank, stood looking down at me. I got the distinct
impression he'd been sent over for some reason.
"You have great make up, who does it?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"You came over here to ask about my make up?" He nodded. The night
before, I'd been unable to sleep. I'd been up from about six in the morning and,
having been through 'beauty school' yet failing to get a passing grade, been
doing my make up. The product had been a lot of orange eye shadow to 'set off'
my green eyes and purple lipstick. My eyeliner had to be what earned me a medal,
though. I'd spent half an hour painting the intricate swirls onto the side of my
face.
My hair, unlike my make up, had had less care taken over it. I'd just thrown it
up into a ponytail; so a few strands were now hanging loose around my face, and
shoved some wooden, glazed sticks into where the hair bobble was.
For an early morning attempt, it wasn't half bad.
"Umm...I...do my own make up," I answered hesitantly. Well, there was
my job flying out of the window.
"Oh...cool..." There was a small pause. "You know, we're running
short of a make up artist...and we really need someone who'll be a permanent
worker, not someone we're supplied with..." I blinked a few times.
"I have a simple mind, elaborate..." I said, leaning back in my seat.
"Okay, we need a make up artist, do you want the job," I stared, this
time not blinking.
"Hey, is she still alive?" I heard from somewhere in the distance,
forcing me to come back to my senses.
"Umm..." I coughed, sitting up. "Eh, why not," It wasn't
like I was going to be working where I was much longer. "When do I
start?"
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