And I KNOW it's the Devil

     The job I had before STORE was at MOD pizza. It was a pretty cool place to work except for the management; we made personal pizzas like it was Subway, where you customize it, but they were all the same size and price regardless of toppings. For whatever reason, most of my co-workers were either felons, or on work release from the prison. Not actually as scary as it sounds though, because almost unanimously they were born again Christian.
     Don't get me wrong, I think religion is a tool when used metaphorically to help shape the way people live their lives. But because I think that, it seems like a really personal thing, and definitely not something that's work appropriate. But these people did not give a flying fuck who knew how devout they were, and it was the worst kind where they took everything literally.
     So I'm folding pizza boxes with Cindy and Corey. Corey is this stout guy, not a lot taller than me but big and dense, bald, and super quiet. He had a tendency to stutter when he was upset, so he didn't talk much and radiated a "fuck off" vibe. Cindy is this super tall black woman, who's kind of a bitch. We didn't get along at all, mostly because she was so consistently rude to me. Whatever. Anyway.

     We're all folding these boxes and not talking and out of no where Cindy goes, "I really wanna go to bible school." I tilt my head down to hide my expression and decide not to touch it. Corey bites though. "Why, Cindy?" She's silent for a moment then says, "Well cause I believe what's in the Bible. I just don't know it all. Every time I try to sit down and read it, I get sleepy," and here she paused and sighed, and looked up and said matter-of-factly, "and I know it's the Devil."

And I KNOW i'ts the Devil

     I am intently looking at my boxes and trying to keep a straight face, because wow, just wow. I'm used to the idea of the Morning-star, Lucifer, the most beautiful being in existence, who rebelled for the benefit of humanity, but here he is, reduced to the Devil, a red horned demon mucking up people's concentration when they try to read the Bible. So I say nothing.
     But Corey evidently agrees, "Y-y-yeah, it is the Devil." I must have made a sound because he looked at me sharply. "D-d-don't you believe in God, Reggie?"
    I shrugged, "Even if I did, I wouldn't be discussing it at work."
     "Cause it's t-t-true! If you try to read the B-b-bible on unsanctified ground, the D-d-devil tries to confuse you."

     I mumbled some excuse to leave and fled to the back room to laugh hysterically. I thought it over and approached Corey a week later.
     "Hey Corey, I have a question, and I don't want to offend you, I'm genuinely curious as so your answer."
    He glared and said to just ask.. "Okay, if Cindy just doesn't read a lot, and gets sleepy when she reads anything, is it always the Devil?"
    "Shut the fuck up, Reggie!"
     I wish he'd answered me though. I really just wanted to know.

The Worst Day of my Life

     When I was 15 my dad moved us down to Arizona. His company had just been bought out, we had to, yada yada. I'm pretty sure they asked me if I wanted to go, and I said yeah, whatever, cause I was a teenager, duh. So we moved. Moving in the 9th grade is a giant bitch though, and I didn't really think about it, but everyone in the first year of high school already has all their middle school friends, and doesn't need the weird new girl hanging around.
     Just as a frame of reference, I had chopped off all my hair. Not for any particular reason, I just did. So it was this really crappy inch and a half long hair cut, and I probably would have only looked more dikey if I wasn't in the clearly awkward adolescent stage of my life. To add to that image, I only ever wore one earring. And I know the picture I'm painting, but I swear, I wasn't trying to look like a lesbian, it was just happening. I showed up for the first day of school in a T-Shirt that said, "Got Issues" and baggy jeans, with my one earring and my hair all spiked.

     So the morning of, I was getting ready and this seemed like a great idea at the time to look unapproachable (<- sarcasm, I was just being retarded) so I wore what I wore and headed out to the kitchen. My mom offered me breakfast, but eating too early in the morning makes me sick, gives me stomach cramps all day, not to mention it's HOT in Arizona. Like, retardedly too warm. Heat tends to kill most peoples appetite and it totally killed mine, so I said whatever, I'm not hungry. She drove me out to my bus stop which was a mile out from the house and saw me onto the bus.
     I was one of the first stops, so I picked a seat in the middle and pulled out a book to read. I was anxiously wondering if there were enough kids on our route to mean I'd have to meet someone new, but there wasn't and I didn't. I sat there reading. The bus stopped and I got up and off. I whipped out my map and started looking for my algebra classroom. It was weird though, because everyone seemed really short, and by that I mean about my height. Normally I'm dwarfed by people around me.

I shrugged it off and walked around campus getting increasingly worried. Algebra was supposed to be room 907, and none of the room numbers here were higher than 500. Then the bell rang. I got more frantic, speed walking in circles. In Arizona the mornings are really chilly. because desert climates don't retain heat, so all the doors were open to suck in the cold while it was still there. From all the classrooms I could here the Pledge of Allegiance chanted by hundreds of voices and it was the worst feeling in the world because mine wasn't one of them.
     The next person who looked remotely like an adult was accosted desperately by me.

 "Please, I can't find my classroom!" She looked at my map and laughed a little, obviously she was either a bitch or immune to the fact that I was freaking the fuck out. "Sweetie, you have the wrong map, this says Cactus Shadows on it." I looked down at my map and then back and her and nodded like she was an infant. "Yeah, that's because I'm going to Cactus Shadows, the high school." She looked like she wanted to pat my head, "This is Desert Arroyo, the middle school." I'm pretty sure I looked like Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction when she gets adrenaline to the heart. In Washington, the high school and middle school were miles apart, there was no way that I had a means of getting myself to the high school in time for classes, not to mention how pissed my mom was gonna be that I'd gotten on the wrong bus. The lady finally realized I was having a panic attack and said, "Oh, don't worry honey, it's just a quick walk across the desert."
     Just. A quick walk. Across the desert. I know where you live changes your perception of an environment, but the words, "quick walk ACROSS THE DESERT" should never be used to console someone, especially someone who grew up thinking deserts were sand dunes and genies. She pointed out the path to me, and I set off across the goddamn desert. It was about a five minute walk, and I stumbled out onto the high school campus contemplating how fucking crazy Arizonans were for living where something was a quick walk across the desert away.

     The high school started later than the middle school, so I found my class with plenty of time. I plunked down in front of my Algebra door and pulled out my book. This was my third mistake of the day (the first was not eating or bringing food, the second was the bus). I should have scouted out my next classrooms but I was so relieved to be where I was supposed to be that I just flopped down. I got to a good part of my book, and that's why when the bell rang, I was actually one of the last people to enter the room. Every single person turned to stare at me, and sneer.
     Something of note: Most people who live in Arizona, specifically the Scottsdale area, are really rich. The kids in the class are all rich, and know it. Their parents are migratory, coming down for the merely brisk winters, and enjoying summers up north. I don't know why this makes these teenagers total assholes, but it had something to do with it. Oh, and also I looked like a giant dike in a super conservative state in a super conservative area, that too.
     So I get through Algebra. No one talks to me. I get through English, Sex ed and Drama. No one talks to me. Then it's lunch time. I'm ravenous, and I don't care I'm being shunned, I want a burger so bad it hurts. So I file into line in the cafeteria, and it's huge. I grab a burger and wait and wait and wait to pay. I'm so hungry this burger has become the most important thing in my life, all I can think of is eating this burger. They even have mayo packets as well as ketchup, which is my perfect burger condiment preference.

 And I'm within two people of the front of the line when I realize: I have no money.  Stressed, and hungry and feeling for the first, but not the last time that day that I wanted to cry, I put the burger back and find a seat at the end of a table, where I read quietly.
     I wandered over early to where my Biology room was and stand outside listlessly. It's 5th period, and for the first time all day outside role call, someone talks to me. It's a girl from my drama class, and the first words anyone says to me during my first day of high school: "Are you a lesbian? Because a girl in our drama class told me you were."
     I fought between laughter and affront and finally said, "No one has talked to me all day, how the fuck would she know?" This suitably dealt with the girl who buggered off. After Bio was Art, and I had my first real problem finding a room. English had been tricky, as had Drama, but this room was elusive as fuck. I went around in circles between 710 and 730, unable to find 720. I finally realized after some serious panicking that it was inside the one marked 710, the fuckers, and I was 10 minutes late. Most of the people in Art were seniors getting their electives out of the way, so when I entered late not only was it just people staring at me, it was older cool crowd kids sneering, and the teacher death glared at me while I sat down, pointedly announcing that we would arrive on time or be kicked out.  I love art, but it was the worst lesson ever.
      Finally, it was time to leave. I packed up and followed the crowd to where the buses were. And stopped. I had no idea what bus number mine was, and I had only glanced at the driver. There was a row of about 20 buses, and it took so long to go up and down it that they were leaving before I committed to one. Disheartened, I gave up and set out to find the office. And got lost. In 110 degree heat. Sweating and panting and dragging myself along I wandered the school. In Washington, most of our buildings built up, since it meant clearing less trees, and space was an issue, but earthquakes aren't. In Arizona, earthquakes were more of a concern for tall buildings, and they had all this desert so they built out. Also heat rises so no one wanted to endure a class in a second story so they just didn't build any, but what that meant in practical terms for me was that the campus was bloody enormous. I walked it like a labyrinth and after what felt like forever found the office.
     I stumbled in sweaty and distraught looking and asked to use the phone. I dialed my mom's number and waited, finally she picked up. "Mom?" And a stranger's voice saying, "Oh, you must have the wrong number." I apologized and hung up, and dialed again very carefully. The phone was answered, "I'm sorry sweetie, this isn't your mom." I apologized again and thanked the office ladies. I blame fatigue and sheer unhappiness for the reason that I didn't just tell the office lady my situation but I wandered out into the heat and sat down on a step and watched some ants go by in a line.

I remember a boy coming up and trying to be friendly. He said, "Do you go to Desert Ridge?" And I, thinking this was the name of yet another school said, "No, I go here." He gave me a weird look and said, "Desert Ridge is the mall." He left shortly afterward and I was burning with heat, extreme hunger and now embarrassment.
    After about 20 minutes over the louder speaker I heard my name, and that transportation was looking for me. I headed back to the office and they had me sit in a chair.
It was at this point, that even though all the mishaps of the day were small, they started to build up in my mind and I grew more and more determined not to cry. I was chanting in my head not to cry. I refused to move my eyes up or down lest I lost control and start bawling. A teacher came by and saw my extreme distress and tried to engage me and I just shook or nodded my head at him. The idea that this day could get still get worse if I was that one girl sobbing in this office was paramount in my head. Eventually he offered that if things kept being awful I was welcome in his room and left me alone. The nice boy I'd embarrassed myself in front of walked by at one point and looked at me curiously.

     Finally, about an hour after school had gotten out, my mom showed up. She took one look at my face and said, "Oh, Makayla." My lip trembled and I lost a few tears. When we were in the car I admitted that I was starving, that she'd forgotten to give me lunch money. She asked if I wanted to go to my favorite restaurant and get crepes and I said no, I just wanted to go home. I ate half a loaf of bread and sniveled a bit to myself in my room.
     I found out later that some of the buses hit both the middle school and the high school to save money, and since they were so close together. So the bus made two stops in the morning, the first at the middle school, the second at the high school. And in the afternoon pick up, the first round of buses are all high school only, and there's a second round that has already picked up all the middle school kids. If I had sat and waited by the buses it's more than likely the driver would have realized I was confused and ushered me on. I also would have only had to pick between 3 rather than 20, but no one thought to tell me these things.

     And that was the worst day of my life. The end.