As of this past Friday, I've entered the cut-throat business of firework sales. The firework business is a seedy mixture of seasonal temp-work and year round hustling; no place for the timid, no place for the kind. Myself? I am a student; terrified of commitment and comfortable only in places where I know my presence is not only unneeded, but generally seen as a the result of having to settle for the lesser of two degenerates. On my first day, I was notified that my coworker (the other sales person) worked nights as a stripper. I was able to ask them a few questions, most of which were answered with “No, you can't do that”, “No, that's extra”, and most commonly “No”. Everything was made clear, from the boss' now only semi-use of marijuana, to the strippers fiendish cocaine and alcohol habit. Today (my second shift), I showed up about 15 minutes early. As I neared the gate, I flicked my red wine flavoured cigar into a trash-can (while driving) and noticed the other sales persons car. She got out as I approached the employee entrance and followed me in. She was in her pajamas and had clearly not slept (which gave away the cold hard truth that she had been up all night committing heinous acts of lapdancery and other foul deeds). She said to the boss “I'm just gonna go and sleep for a bit”. He said something like “Fine, I don't give a shit. I only need one person and myself here anyway, and you do fuck all. Don't think you're getting paid for this”. Her response came out as if she were some sort of unaffected secretary booking an appointment for an irate client over the phone “Oh yes, of course. I understand that's where you're at”. It was taken surprisingly well, on her part. I also remember him saying something similar to "Oh, you didn't get us anything from Tim Horton's? Well here's $20, get what you did yesterday". She responds "I'm not going to Tim Horton's, I'm hardly dressed". To which he replied "Oh, fuck you. You literally wear nothing at your other job"... Classic, too classic. Anyway, a few minutes passed and nothing happened. I just sat and talked with the boss. The morning is very slow apparently. As I drank my coffee (lol, guess how I got the coffee? imp: ) I noticed my coworker had come into the warehouse with pillows and a blanket. I thought to myself “Hmm, yes. The firework people are my kind of crowd”. I didn't pretend to look away. I watched her break down a few cardboard boxes, lay them in a shape that best resembled a rectangle, and then move a bunch of large signs in front of a clear space on the first of a three-level set of shelves where she took her nap. Numerous times I saw bare feet or blankets quickly raised (ever so slightly) above the cardboard divider and once again marveled at the fact that I had found my self employed alongside such a care-free duo. (I am the “third” person. The boss and other sales person have worked together for a few seasons). The sleeping area was created while there were no guests on the floor, however, there were plenty of customers (and their children) who shopped for fireworks, completely ignorant to the fact that a stripper lay on a heap of boxes behind a few feet of cardboard that had been arranged to keep her state of indecency out of eyesight. When she woke up and passed us by for the first time, the boss said “Good morning, sunshine” and I laughed as I was in the middle of dealing with a customer. I'm sure the person I was trying to up-sell found it odd that this employee had just been greeted with a “good morning” welcome at 2 in the afternoon. All in all, it's a very fun place to work. It makes me truly miss smoking weed, although I'd probably piss myself in laughter at the things my boss and coworker say to each other. It's a very surreal work environment. Going back to my regular job is going to be a jolt back into the real world of having to at least pretend to show some sense of decorum in the workplace… Funnily enough, I actually talked to them about my previous substance use (as it's apparently mandatory to do so when we sit outside to eat). They didn't believe a word I had to say, at least at first (I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve that signal my former involvement with the international drug brothers/sisters union). Fuck, I miss the old days sometimes (not really)… Oh well, onward ho! - - - - - - - - - - On a side note: If you're ever purchasing fireworks from a seasonal pop-up, ALWAYS haggle. There are no set prices. Where I am, there aren't even tags or signs that indicate the prices for some of the products. I make up the prices as I go along (as well as the functions of nearly every product). Whenever someone asks for something that is loud, or colourful, or explodes many times, I simply refer them to the product that I've been told to help get rid of.
love your stories, but got burnt out by 3rd paragraph.. posting to read later when attention span isnt stoned.
I always figured fireworks stands were similar to carny craft. I've driven through parts of Tennessee that have what appear to be fireworks malls. They're mostly a fake wooden facade on a cheap metal warehouse. And they usually have a name that showers doubt about the stability of the owner. Should you be buying explosives and rockets from a place called "Crazy Bills", "Lunatic Larry's" or Insane McCane's"? At one stand in Alabama I got to see an asshole get hauled out back by the crew because one of them saw him pickpocket a guy's wallet. It made me wonder how they handled shoplifters. Roman candles come to mind.
