Super Dry

Hello Humans,

So last year I was in London?

 I moved to East London just over a year ago to follow my dream of becoming a popular artist within the genre of Hip Hop music. I have under another alias had some success in this field, and figured that out of all the proverbial work pies I've had my finger in, this one might seem the least like holding my head underwater for 8 hours a day while simultaneously having dog toys shoved into my anus. I may not be able to hold down a job all that well but I knew when coming to our great Capital that I couldn't get by on my cheeky smile and knack for making impressive fart noises with my armpit. So armed with my impressively colourful CV I set out to find myself some employment.

 I thought back to my previous work history and decided if I was to give away hours of my life at a price to afford food and shelter that I wanted a job with the least amount of responsibility. Luckily I had a friend with a connection to a manager at a SuperDry store in West Field shopping centre Stratford (a thoroughly horrid place). So I popped down to hand over my credentials.  After dazzling them with my finely tuned interview techniques they had no choice but to hire me, and before I knew it I was there folding up Japanese inspired clothing to an ear bursting symphony of the latest dub step/house/indie mash up. You know what? Just helping people buy dumb shit that made them look even more stupid than when they walked in gave me a real sense of... well err... a real sense of...? Fuck, it just brought some money in.

Thing is I knew it wouldn't be too long before I grew tired of turning up to the same place to do shit that I have no interest in for the sake of a small pay check. It’s really not about the people I worked with, they were all nice enough. It was the uncompromising way in which this shop and loads others like it are run. I know it’s got nothing on the harsh working conditions of other countries but I still reckon walking about the same small area for 5 hours at a time while they insist on playing fucking horrible music on loop is not good for your brain. Not to mention how it’s very much frowned upon to talk to one of your colleagues for any length of time.

 The funny thing was after I’d handed in my resignation because I was convinced the illuminate planed to bomb the London 2012 Olympics, a regional manager came into the pretty much empty shop and caught me sitting in one of the fitting rooms. I could tell instantly how absolutely pissed off he was about it!? He then sent one of my supervisors over to tell me how upset he was and that as well as never sitting down I should also take out my chewing gum? Of course knowing I was leaving anyway I said that if he was upset with me for sitting down or chewing gum I’d gladly explain to him why I was doing those things. 

The conversation I thought might go something like this...

Him – “why are you sitting down?”

Me – “Because my legs were tired from standing”

Him- “why are you chewing gum?”

Me – “because I want to have fresh breath”

He never did come over. Twat.