Green

It's a personal theory of mine that every citizen of the United States should at one point in their lives, preferrably when they're between 18-22, work in a service or retail position.

Everyone.

I could say it builds character, or some condescending crap like that, but honestly, it's more about getting people to RESPECT those that serve them, so there are less "incidents" between staff and customers.

Recently, I had a part-time position in my college's bookstore during "rush."

"Rush" is not at all related to the fraternities or sororities, but the period of time at the beginning and end of an academic semester when faculty and students descend like locusts looking for their supplies and books ALL AT ONCE.

So, the Sunday before Rush, I had a three-hour training session to learn the fine art of cash registering. To be fair, the modern cash register is a fairly complex machine, with computer processors, multiple databases and shifting keyboard functions connected to on-screen menus.

The easy thing about being a cashier is how repetitive most of your job is. The knowledge you need to acquire for working your store's individual registers comes fairly quickly, and even if you are brain dead and without short term memory, there are handy plastic sealed cheat sheets to guide you through a transaction made with a check (incidentally, don't write checks unless you want to be there awhile; I have to write information on the check as well, not just you).

Another interesting lesson about working an entry level business position is how quickly you are entrusted to put forth the image and propaganda of the company. Sales, discount coupons, free giveaways, and customer greeting is all part of the job.

Aside from whether or not one could pay with more than one form of tender (you can, it just takes longer), the thing I was asked most often was where one would need to return books to. These people received directions on where we defer returns for the first week of school. Beyond that, I didn't reveal the intricate underpinnings of returns.

Within the first week, returned textbooks net a full refund (if applicable). People REALLY want that refund when they learn they don't actually need that seventy-five dollar calculus book. I had to tell every person that bought at least one textbook when their last chance to get a full refund was. I thank the gods I won't be their with the regular staff when people are showing up the day AFTER and only receiving a percentage buy-back deal.

The best part of the job was seeing enormous lines piling up, and being able to do jack about it. Sometimes all of the registers, including the emergency manager-run ones, are full, and all you can do is steadily keep scanning the basket loads of merchandise people have decided to buy TODAY OF ALL DAYS. Sometimes the registers can't take credit cards, just because... Most of the time, my barcode scanner was incredibly anal about how to read. All of the time [I was on register], I had to manually input card PIN numbers because my swipe machine was defective. In these situations, I was reminded of that scene from the Simpsons with DMV workers, Patty and Selma: "Some days, we don't let the line move at all." "We call those WEEK days."

Despite the rampant bureacracy of the registers, I actually enjoyed the job. Helping people get in and out was nice, and getting experience manning a sales position was good.

Too bad temp pay is shit.

3 Hour Party People

In celebration of a friend's 21st birthday, I drove more than an hour to a foreign apartment complex to spend a little time amongst some real-world people and have some laughs. And possibly drink (my beliefs do allow consumption of intoxicants for special ocassions).

Firstly, the only beverage I'm comfortable with drinking from a glass bottle (other than carbonated soda) is Mike's Hard Lemonade/Limeade. It's a citrus drink, so it makes sense for it to taste bitter. Beer on the other hand, has no excuse for tasting like piss. Saying, "but that's what beer tastes like" only tells me how little you've explored. This is why I'm more a fan of darker brands, such as Guinness.

Now, I am not a heavy drinker, don't drink to get drunk, so even FINISHING a fucking bottle of Mike's is far out of range for me. However, when the birthday boy discovered I had yet to taste "excellent Irish whiskey," he prodded me to have a meager shot.

Let me say, holy fuck.

When they say that stuff burns, they aren't shitting hyperbole. I didn't sputter, choke, or gag, but the sensation of drinking this whiskey was worse than any Listerine or boiling acid I had ever gargled (acid keeps the CIA implants quiet).

I could also tell how people drank this to "keep warm." Drink whiskey and you'll be jumping around naked when it's twenty below.

Other than those two drinks, all I consumed at the "party" (really too tame to call it that, but whatever) was some greasy chips and the delightful chocolate pastry we dubbed the "Erotic Nipple and Bukakke Cake."

Some time early on, we were informed by the party host of our cars being towed for loitering in apartment resident spots, instead of the six FILLED spots that were Visitor's Parking. Apparently the fine folks at Mercer Oaks didn't feel any residents would have many guests after dark.

As a half dozen people rushed to save themselves from hefty fines and inconvenient bureaucracy, I deftly jumped between my car and a man holding a flashlight looking for parking stickers. Ha ha, you scavenging fuck, no capitalizing off me tonight!

Meeting up in an Old Navy parking lot close by, we waited for the host to arrive and take us back to the party. One member of our expedition team noted, "the fact that they do that is so gay. Gayer than gay. That towing policy is gayer than I am." The man knew gay, and I was inclined to agree with him.

After everyone had tasted enough spirits, mostly through the magic of Roulette Shots, we spent the last hour sobering up and making idle chit-chat about the drink coasters that lit up when you placed a drink on them, producing a psychedelic light show for our entertainment.

Eventually, I called it a night, got shuttled back to my car and began the long drive home.

Pass the Chronic- What? -Cles of Narnia!

Wanting to see at least one holiday release film before heading back to college, I looked over the listings for the closest theater. I wanted something well received and entertaining for good money value (going to matinees is practically half the cost of prime time), but also not excruciatingly long.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was only two hours long, and I was familiar enough with the book series to know it should have plenty of action. And thank god it did.

Most of the primary actors in the film were horrible. Only Tilda Swinton seemed to bring life to her character, without being incredibly clichéd. The children, who must have all had allergic reactions to craft services with their enormous bee-stung lips, were two-dimensionally sweet and, well, childish. I didn't see a lot of reasons for maturity in the film, or why any of them should be ready to fight a war equivalent to Peter Jackson's epic (and honestly, the battle scenes were quite good). True, the kids have lived in a bombed out London, had both their parents driven away from them by war, and even been left to their own devices in a secluded mansion. But hardly any of this seems to have much affect on them, insofar as their behavior changes.

Narnia's first film really suffers from not knowing what it is. The film is based on children's books, so of course, it should be accesible to kids. But at the same time, serious themes of conflict, sacrifice, betrayal, and even redemption are sprinkled throughout, but in fairly black-and-white, everything-gets-neatly-resolved-in-a-vacuum terms.

I'm mostly suspecting the director of having a skewed idea of how to bring the content of Narnia to life, and not just the visuals (which Weta has done an incredible job on). The Lord of the Rings had a story several times as complex and dense, yet fans and average movie-goers alike could easily access the material based on the performances of the actors. Here, most of the emotion is heavily subdued and diluted (save for some moments from Swinton).

The visual color is also something I had issue with. There was no clear difference between England and Narnia (other than how wide the camera shot was) and Narnia in winter was just as bright as Narnia in summer. The interplay of light was highly under-used (this is primarily a wannabe filmmaker griping).

If this is to be a franchise to compete with Harry Potter, which may also run to seven films (a record for a non-serial franchise), then it has a lot of growing to do. The extent of the visual ingenuity needs to match the actors' performances.