New Years 2004

Scotch from a plastic jug, Jack Daniels, Skyy cosmos, champagne, shorts, t-shirts and a Celtic version of Auld Lang Syne piping from the JoshPod. That was New Years 2004. Happy New Year, by the way.

Elise and I went to John and Christine’s to ring in

Bather at Petsmart

Sometimes I like to think about jobs I’ve had in the past. Just yesterday I was reminded of a job I once had…

Elise and I went to Petsmart yesterday afternoon to buy cat litter. I used to work at Petsmart during my early years of college. Dog and cat owners can get their pets groomed at Petsmart. I worked in the Grooming Department. I worked in the back of the Grooming Department. That place behind the back door of the Grooming Department. I was a bather. I bathed dogs AND cats. I wore a red smock with an elastic waistband that made me look like I was wearing a Valentine’s Day skirt. I wore waterproof parachute pants and dingy shoes. I was always wet, smelled like wet dog and pyrethrin dip and had cat scratches on my arms.

I got that job because 1) I needed money for things like CDs and pizza and 2) my girlfriend-at-the-time worked there and told me it was a great place to work. She was a groomer. I bathed dogs for all of the groomers. I believe there was a total 6 female groomers. I was the only man on the squad. I made a base hourly wage and then I got some sort of commission for each dog I bathed. Some people would bring their beloved dog or cat in just to be bathed. Others would bring in their Shih Tzu or Lhasa Apso to be bathed and groomed. I would make more for the dogs that were also groomed.

I received my fair share of bites and scratches. I also witnessed neglect that nearly brought me to tears. But the one part of that job I just couldn’t get over was extracting anal glands. I’ll spare you the details but will let you in on a secret: I didn’t like that part of my job.

So next time you’re sitting there, thinking about how shitty your job is, think of me. In a red smock.