I'd Rather Be Playing Beer Pong

There. I've said it.

I guess it's the college student in me, but after working an 8 hour day, where it was dead as a doornail and freaking crawled by like a semi-retarded infant. I just stood there, making my way through the people that went through my lane once every twenty-five minutes or so thinking “Well, when I get back from lunch it'll speed up.”

Oh how wrong I was.

I went for my lunch hour at one, where I ordered a salad from the McDonald's across the street and then drove back over the parking lot and munched, reading I Am Number Four, chain smoking and listening to Bob Dylan. It was nice and peaceful and went by far too fast. By the time I made it back inside, there was a quick burst, which was nice, because the next hour seemed to go by kind of quickly.

And then, like all good things, it ended and died right down again. It seemed like every several minutes, I was asking the other girls cashing if it was time for me to go home yet, I played with the small bouncy balls at the end of my lane, faced candy until I felt like my brain was melting and read trashy tabloids and small articles from Cosmo between customers.

All day long, the same thought went through my head as I dragged countless 30 and six packs across the scanner, listening to the obnoxious beep that signalled that it had been scanned and punched in the birth date of whoever was buying it:

I'd rather be playing beer pong.

Yes. I'd rather be standing at the end of a table, clutching a ping pong ball in one hand and trying to make the perfect bounce shot into a red solo cup at the other end, fighting the urge to lean across the table or do something crazy and unpredictable to distract the people trying to block the shot, fighting like hell to not get skunked and have to run a lap around the house naked. I'd rather be in a small, smokey room surrounded by people that are fun to be around, blaring music at 50 billion decibels and screaming at the top of their lungs when they speak instead of taking the time to turn it down to finish their thought.

If it were spring break, you bet your sweet ass that's exactly what I'd be doing.

But alas, instead, I have to go to bed soon because I've got class at 9 in the morning and a YA Lit journal to finish on A Step From Heaven.

How exciting.

I can't wait for summer break.