Once upon a time, when we first moved down here, Kyle got a shitty job, making a shitty wage at a shitty place. He worked at a halfway house for federal convicts, and we both hated it. Him mostly because he was a glorified security guard, but not able to be armed, and was still responsible for drug-testing all residents (like, had to stand next to 'em and everything). I hated it because on weekends, he worked at the facility for sex offenders, and we shared a car. So when I came to pick him up, I was incredibly uncomfortable waiting there while the residents hung out outside, smoking and playing cards.
The week before his birthday, he was fired. He had cut the padlock off the fuse box to replace the A/C fuse, and was terminated for destroying company property. At the time, he didn't mind. It was the final push to accepting his recall, plus we had a lot more time to spend together before he left.
Well today, I got an application at work from someone who works at this same halfway house. He used to work with Kyle, and is now their program director.
Jesus, your sense of humor blows. I take things like this way too seriously. Everything is a sign, or something to read into. Or at the very least, to set me emotionally on edge.
When one of my coworkers left to return to his old job at Kyle's place of employment, I found it surprising. A little off-putting. A reminder that it's a small world. But now two coworkers that both know him? Particularly when he's ridiculously anti-social and has only had two real jobs since we moved here? That's just weird.
If there is a point, please make it. Because this is awfully strange.
No comments:
Post a Comment