By the way, I am officially 23rd today according to the Gregorian Calendar.
I'm thinking of getting myself a birthday present. Maybe an MP3 Player to listen to during my boring one hour journey from home to work.
Happy Birthday to me and thanks to the seven people who had wished me a happy birthday - you know who you are! =3
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Ichigatsu honya de
Started work in the bookstore on August 14th. It has been one month, a week and three days.
Quite an... interesting experience. For one, I am working in a place of a hodgepodge of races. The majority are Chinese so I get a lot of Mandarin thrown at me. A LOT. Not that I mind. Malays and Indians mixed as if there is none of that rubbish called social contract and Malay supremacy. I had to admit I loved it.
My unit, the magazine unit, is made of six staff, three Chinese and three Malays. The unit chief is Chinese. Didn't bother me. He was a gamer, and he played the games I played. It's nice to share experience with people who played your games, especially the games you loved. Vagrant Story, Final Fantasy, Shadow of the Colossus... you name it. He got it. He's a serious guy when it comes to work, but also when it comes to games.
The second longest serving staff is a Malay. She has a stern look in her face, one that says "Don't you even think about it." She's not shy in chasing non-potential customers. But once you get to know her, she's a friendly sort, joking and laughing whenever. Proven - Looks can be deceiving. And she's no bias. She talks to all races. Heh, everyone talks to each other disregarding the skin. Now why I am talking about skin anyway - not at all important...!
Magazine unit is tough. And boring. The most magazines coming in are related to fashion, gossip, and entertainment. They come in large cartons and you had to price them like every time they come in, and they come in the hundreds. Every morning you check to see if there are magazines that needed to be restocked. When the customer come in droves, you need to make sure they browse wrapped magazines at the counter, and you had to put misplaced magazines back in place. Sometimes you sit at the counter and you get to bring their reserved magazines, answer phone calls from some anonymous callers (I'm getting the hang of it, though I admit I sound like the idiot on the line).
But hey, I get to work, I have a uniform, complete with tie and apron that makes me look important, and I get to broaden my perspectives. Plus, the Japanese section is close if I ever want to browse any artbooks or magazines. I love my job =3
Quite an... interesting experience. For one, I am working in a place of a hodgepodge of races. The majority are Chinese so I get a lot of Mandarin thrown at me. A LOT. Not that I mind. Malays and Indians mixed as if there is none of that rubbish called social contract and Malay supremacy. I had to admit I loved it.
My unit, the magazine unit, is made of six staff, three Chinese and three Malays. The unit chief is Chinese. Didn't bother me. He was a gamer, and he played the games I played. It's nice to share experience with people who played your games, especially the games you loved. Vagrant Story, Final Fantasy, Shadow of the Colossus... you name it. He got it. He's a serious guy when it comes to work, but also when it comes to games.
The second longest serving staff is a Malay. She has a stern look in her face, one that says "Don't you even think about it." She's not shy in chasing non-potential customers. But once you get to know her, she's a friendly sort, joking and laughing whenever. Proven - Looks can be deceiving. And she's no bias. She talks to all races. Heh, everyone talks to each other disregarding the skin. Now why I am talking about skin anyway - not at all important...!
Magazine unit is tough. And boring. The most magazines coming in are related to fashion, gossip, and entertainment. They come in large cartons and you had to price them like every time they come in, and they come in the hundreds. Every morning you check to see if there are magazines that needed to be restocked. When the customer come in droves, you need to make sure they browse wrapped magazines at the counter, and you had to put misplaced magazines back in place. Sometimes you sit at the counter and you get to bring their reserved magazines, answer phone calls from some anonymous callers (I'm getting the hang of it, though I admit I sound like the idiot on the line).
But hey, I get to work, I have a uniform, complete with tie and apron that makes me look important, and I get to broaden my perspectives. Plus, the Japanese section is close if I ever want to browse any artbooks or magazines. I love my job =3
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