Working With People I Want to Punch in the Throat

I could get shot. Gas stations got robbed all the time. I was not prepared to take a bullet for QT. Surely that shit was insured. I would just hand over the cash drawer and tell the robber to help himself to some lottery tickets and a slushee on his way out the door.

I didn't want a McJob, I wanted a “career.” I wasn't going to take just any old job to pay my bills. I had busted my ass for the past four (and a half) years and now I wanted to use my newfound skills in a high-paying, high-profile job. I wanted to work somewhere I felt valued and respected!