Job Chronicles: Loyalty to the Eastside

So, in order to be true to the entire 33 jobs I've worked, I should probably back track a little.  

Remember how I worked at ECCC the summer after my senior year of High School, well, while I was IN high school, I had a telemarketing job.  Yes, I was a telemarketer.  My first sit behind a desk job where a phone automatically dialed random numbers and I read from a script.  I couldn't tell you exactly what I was selling, because it seemed to change everyday.  There were some bs goals we're suppose to reach for volume, I really can't tell you if I reached those goals or not.  

What I can tell you is that Dakota Direct (the name of the company) was where EVERYONE went when they needed a check.  Crackheads, high school students, welfare mommas, and your momma...everybody worked at Dakota Direct.  It was also a good resume starter and I took full advantage of it the last semester of my senior year.  After working at the center at 15, the independence bug my mom planted started to grow and I NEEDED TO HAVE $$$$$.  

Okay, so moving along to Larry's. 

When we last left off, Larry told me to come by the shop to help unpack braid hair.  Now, I don't know if any of you have ever unpacked packs of braid hair, but that shit is hard labor.  Gotta color code it, 1A, 1, 1B 2B, 3C, 4Z, and so on.  Yeah you think you can just separate them by color, brown, black, red and blonde.  Uh, no, you gotta do this whole letter and number business and put it on the wall.  Larry got over on me with unpacking those boxes of braid hair and hanging them on the hooks. But hey, it builds character, right?  Whatever. 

Now I’m working at the second hot spot in the hood besides the center.  I am for real getting my hoodrat stripes.  Uh wait a minute, lets get one thing straight.... I can call myself a hoodrat, chickenhead, or any other come-up derogatory hood names, not you or anyone else and if you hear them say my name in vain, slap em for me.  Get it? Got it? Good.  Moving on. 

So, I’m working next door to the ONLY black barbershop in Spokane aside from my daddy’s kitchen.  So you know what that means, niggas, niggas, niggas, and more niggas.  I mean big, small, tall, short, ugly, cute, ballin, broke…anyone who was getting a cut on the Eastside was going to Larry’s.  My schedule was Tue-Fri 3pm – 8pm and Saturdays 10am-6pm, and Saturday’s were CRACKIN!   

Sidenote: is there an unspoken rule that black barbershops and beauty shops are closed on Monday's?  I understand being opened on Saturday, so you need two days off, but the white shops and dominican shops are open 7 days a week....not black folks, we need that Sunday for Worship and Monday to do what the hell they want.  Anyways, moving on.

  

I would get excited when the little LA gangsta’s (who at the time lived in Spokane) would come through.  I was extra nice to them because most of them were cute.....and gangsta! They was Crip walking before crip walkin was crip walkin!  

Then there was the neighborhood smartass, who would come in and harass me on my job every other Saturday.  I’m sure you all know who it is, he is the self proclaimed “King of the Eastside” and his initials are J.P.   This boy, when he got tired of waiting in line at Larry’s, would come and harass me.

“Lisa G, I’m saying what’s up on a discount for some sportin wave?”

“uh, boy, you know Larry does not give no discounts, you better call your daddy to come buy it for you.”

“ah nigga, come on.  You gotta give me a discount since ya’ll don’t have no medium brushes.  ya’ll got soft and hard brushes.  You know niggas can’t brush their heads with no soft brush unless they got that Al B. Sure baby hair and damn sure not trying to scratch up my scalp with a hard ass brush.  I need a medium brush to keep the waves fresh, you know the girls like my waves.” 

“Boy, get outta here”

“Lisa man where you pops at, tell Bebe to let Mathew come out the house sometime, that lil nigga gonna have a social awkwardness after awhile.”   

JP was right, my poor little brother does suffer from a bit of social awkwardness.

Working at Larry's was fun.  Everyone who knew me came in, said what’s up, asked about my family, and chopped it up for awhile.  I won’t front, I was that typical chick behind the counter on the phone and wouldn’t ask if you needed any help while you browsed around.  And I would only hang up the phone if Larry came by or if the homies came in to chop it up with me.  I know, so unprofessional, but was the hood and the shop was only so big and if you couldn’t find what you was looking for, either we don’t have it or you’re half retarded.  

I wasn't totally mean or anything, I was accommodating, nice and I had good customer service skills….I just hated when people came in with dumb questions like:

“Lisa, what is the difference between Carefree Curl Sheen and Stay Soft Fro?”  

 Um, the difference is you getting rid of that 1987 Straight outta Compton Ice Cube Jehri Curl.   

Ask me a hard question like “how long can you leave a Soft & Beautiful relaxer in before it starts to sting”, 

and I will act like I know and say 

“let me feel what type of grain of hair you got…oh girl your hair is nappier than a sheep's behind, you need to leave it in for a good half hour.”

So, I’m making $4.25 an hour, I have no bills, I’m rollin in my Mercury Tracer.  Life is great.  So what do young ballers, shot callers do in the hood when they got money….buy a pager!  Yes, my first pager! Beep, beep, beep. I was too fly.  I was at the mall buying up everything.  

Only problem though is that I started to make TOO Much money, I had a Carlos Rossi jug full of change, and one day my Granddaddy was like 

“Nisa, what you doing with that wine jug full of money, you drink wine and selling that dope?”  

If the “C’mon son” face was out back then, my Granddaddy surely would have gotten the c’mon son face…. me slangin, and in Spokane.  No bueno, Levi.   Therefore, I started to give him some money to go to the racetrack, after that, we were all good.  Don’t any one complain when the money flows into their pockets.

At Larry’s I learned merchandising, cash handling, stock inventory, customer relations and how to diplomatically deal with difficult customers (see the JP example).

Next:  Yakima Substance Abuse Coalition.