“Oh. hey! A truck stop! They have gas, a fast food restauraunt, and plenty of road snacks!” And a really fritzed out nineteen year old girl behind the counter who has to be reminded on a regular basis (via radio earpiece) that she is not permitted to beat the unruly children running amok (she actually asked if she was allowed to, more than once, citing reasons that I personally deem legitimate but that’s probably why I’m not a manager).

Meanwhile I stand just outside the door on the other side of the building smoking cigarettes with a couple of truckers while we share reasons why we don’t mind “working” the holiday in order to avoid our annoying families. Ninety-eight parking spaces for semis and about twelve were occuppied (half of those were local drivers picked up by family two days earlier).

Sure as hell beats that old job at the discount clothing store. Yes, I do know the true meaning of Black Friday and it’s one of the few things that makes me happy about my current job.