As I step out the front door, I put one foot in front of the other. I tell myself just to take one day at a time. I see Roger, my neighbor, in his front yard, picking up his newspaper sans pants again. God, no, not today. Please don’t let him see me, not today.

I rush towards my car, pushing the unlock button. Unlock, unlock, I scream inside my head. He is a nice enough old man but somewhat senile. Sometimes he forgets to put in his teeth, and then there are the days like today when he forgets to put on his pants. Roger goes commando, which is unfortunate for everyone who lives in the immediate neighborhood.

Luckily, he has forgotten to wear his glasses as well, so he doesn’t see me, and I make a clean getaway.  I‘m off to my first day at my new job. Never mind that this is the third first day of a new job that I have had to endure in the past five years. Each job is a step down from the job that preceded it. Not to mention a pay cut. Oh, I meant not to mention it, but I did. Whoops!

I keep reading and hearing on the radio that the economy is turning around, but I don’t see any evidence of that in my life or in the people I know. But there is no point in dwelling on it.

My new job is as a cashier at a car dealership. I have been working in the automobile sales business for thirty years. I started at the bottom as a secretary and worked myself up to vice-president of the new car sales department. I was the only female to reach that position within my company. The auto sales business, especially in a Japanese-owned company, is highly misogynistic. You know, the old boys club, the glass ceiling and all that.

When the economy took its downturn, the auto business went bust. I was the first to be laid off. Actually, I took an early retirement package. I really didn’t have a choice. It was early retirement or fired with no package. This included keeping my pension, one year of health insurance, and one year’s pay.

It took me one year to find another job.  You know something, and there aren’t a lot of vice president jobs for a sixty-something woman. My next job was manager of Internet sales job at one of the dealers I used to audit in my old job. He called me and offered me the position when he heard I had been laid off. I took a $ 60,000-a-year cut in pay, but I didn’t have much choice. No more unemployment left. No other job offers.

After a year there, I was laid off because I kept complaining to the owner that all the car salesmen started drinking after he left for the day. They weren’t the happy drunks you don’t mind being around. They were the other kind, the nasty drunks.

Laid off again and got another Internet manager position, which lasted six months. They decided I wasn’t bringing in enough leads, so they hired an outside company to take over my position.

And that brings you up to speed. I’m driving on the Roosevelt Expressway in the early morning rush hour to my new job as a cashier at another dealership. I hope I will be able to impress them with my years of experience and knowledge of the auto business. Moving quickly up the ladder of success until I once again reach the soaring heights of middle management.

Ah, I see the dealership is coming up on my right and making a sharp right turn. I almost missed the entrance. Unfortunately, someone else is making an equally sharp left turn out of the driveway, and just like that, two cars become one.

My airbag deploys, and I am hit with such force that it knocks the wind out of me. I hope I have not cracked my ribs or some other vital organ. I finally catch my breath, and I see a very furious-looking woman headed my way.

She is wearing a very grim smile on her face. Well, perhaps it’s more a grimace than a smile.

I reach for my cell in case I have to push 911. I look into my glove department for my insurance information. I roll down the window. She immediately starts screaming at me. “It’s your fault. You hit my car. I just bought it last year. Now, what am I going to do? You stupid… ” Well, you fill in the blanks.

I take a deep breath and wait until she runs out of steam and calms down. Finally, she says,” Well, this has turned out to be one of the worse days of my life. First, I get fired with no warning at all, and now you crash into my car and destroy it. No car, no job, what next?”

“I’m really sorry. This is my first day here, and I guess I am a bit nervous and wasn’t watching as carefully as I should have. Let me give you my information.”

“Really, you were starting here today. I didn’t know they were hiring anyone or that there were any openings. What position were you hired for?”

“The cashier position.”

“What the… that’s my job.”

She then lets out a string of expletives that would make a longshoremen blush. I quickly push the button to roll up my window and decide now would be the perfect time to push 911 before any blood is shed. My blood.

The woman is still ranting and raving and having a full-on tantrum when the cop arrives, and he tries to talk her down. She finally stops screaming but is still shooting me evil looks. Well, you know that expression if looks could kill? Well, it’s true if looks could kill, I would be lying here in a puddle of my own blood, riddled with bullet holes.

The cop talks to me and the lunatic, and everybody cools down. We exchange information, and she heads off on her merry way. Well, not merry, but you know what I mean.

I pull into the parking lot and look for employee parking. I see there is one spot left and pull in. As I walk into the dealership, two sales types come racing towards me, mistaking me for a customer. “Sorry, I’m not a customer. I’m the new cashier. Can you point me in the direction of human resources?”

“Yeah, sure, it right over there, but you’re late, and Z doesn’t like that. Z, that’s the owner, has kind of a bad temper, so try to stay on his good side, if you can find it.

So begins my first day at my new job.

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