Tired of Flyering

Gabrielle’s been putting me to work over the last two days. In the process I think that I may have accidentally found a part-time job, and I’m not sure how to feel about this. To start, Las Palmas Villa now has me on their payroll, which means that I don’t get paid in cash as preferred, rather, I’m set to receive a pre-taxed check in two weeks-- lame. Secondly, although most would prefer such stability, I feel that such reoccurring work defeats the purpose of the ODDcupation, and I’m sure that it would make for a pretty boring blog. With that said, when Gabrielle told me that her and her boss were thinking of other tasks that they might have me do for them (aside from distributing flyers), I responded with an unenthusiastic, “Sounds good to me.” It really didn’t sound good at all. I’m thinking that I’m going to have to dump this job before it gets too attached; I’m just not ready for this level of commitment. Unfortunately I’m pretty bad at going through with such breakups because I can’t ever bring myself to hurt the other. If all goes well I’ll have enough courage to go through with it eventually, and hopefully she’ll take it okay.

Enough of that, let me tell you what this job has consisted of over the past two days. On day one I got to Las Palmas at 11:00, and because Gabrielle was busy showing apartment units I was stuck sitting in the courtyard until 11:30. ZZZ. Once she had finished with her potential tenants she called me into the office and had me divide a box full of flyers into stacks of five hundred. Meanwhile she was busy printing maps and highlighting streets that she wanted me to hit that afternoon. I finished partitioning the box about a half an hour later, tucked two stacks of five hundred into my Chrome backpack, got a few final instructions from bosslady, and was finally on my way. I followed her map to a CVS about ten blocks away and once again took parking advice from a boss (thankfully the good people at CVS found it in their hearts not to call a tow-truck for my car).

I began by slapping the flyers onto cars in nearby shopping centers, but soon found myself walking up and down the residential streets of Hollywood. To liven things up a bit I brought a joint for the walk, making use of it about twenty minutes into my journey. Initially I began by trying to be as efficient as possible, thinking about every move and trying my best to not take any unnecessary steps along the way: walk straight line to nearest car windshield, locate windshield wiper, lift windshield wiper, insert flyer, release wiper, repeat. Although it was pretty repetitive, it started off as a well thought out process. However, about an hour into it all my actions had become pretty robotic. My legs were moving and my hands continued to stick the flyers onto the windshields, but I became less interested with efficiency. I started to think about other things, different aspects of what I was doing, and soon realized that too much efficiency was definitely a bad thing. Day one would set the bar for what would be expected on proceeding days, and if I tried my hardest then, I would be forced to work equally as hard on day two. I slowed my pace and kept zigzagging from car to car.

Little happened over the next four hours. The most excitement came when the fuzz rolled up and told me that what I was doing was illegal. They said that both my employer and I could be cited if I continued. I told them that I had been hired by “some lady,” and that I would call her to deliver their warning. I pulled out my cell phone and they drove off just as Gabrielle answered. She asked me if they were still around and I informed her that they had just left. I had only been working for two hours and I figured that I’d be out of a job if I stopped then. Like the thug that I am I told her that I was willing to continue, she gave her approval and I hung up the phone. For the next two hours I was on the lookout for cops, thankfully those bastards never came back.

Overall, I had a good first day in the flyer distribution business. Trekking through Hollywood on a breezy summer day was surprisingly enjoyable. It was kinda refreshing to be walking around previously only scantly known neighborhoods, even more so with the Hollywood sign and Capital Records building always within eyesight. I felt like a true LA native when compared to the busloads of tourists that I saw pass by every few minutes on various nerdy touring vehicles. Most looked genuinely excited to be passing by the houses of the rich and famous, and I guess I can’t blame them. However, while they were only passive visitors in this land of infinite celebrities, I would be a recurring and active participant. Thanks to this job I’m going to mingling with the world’s most famous celebrities. Well, maybe not. At the very least I’ll be able to give a nod to their gardeners and nannies, I suppose it's better than nothing.

Day two was even less interesting. While Hollywood provided a host of beautiful babes to gaze upon, Koreatown was comprised of old Mexican ladies and hip Korean teens fashioned in the latest popular styles. Their bright track jackets and colorful Nikes were cool, just not my style. Although they weren’t much fun to look at, I empathized with them: I guess deep down we all want to be Korean pop-stars. Whereas the streets of Hollywood were lined with beautiful castle like mansions and warm Spanish-style villas, K-town was heavy saturated with acupuncturists and daycare providers (all operating from their homes).

One benefit to being in K-town as opposed to Hollywoodland was that there were way more unguarded parking lots. Most lots in Hollywood were paid lots that were secured by some Mexican dude who was quick to kick me off. The unguarded lots of K-town were like goldmines, providing a vast concentration of easily flyerable cars. Unfortunately, that was probably the only good thing about day two.

Half way through my four-hour shift the smell of kimchi was becoming nauseating and my legs were starting to feel the pain from walking around endlessly for the second straight day. I kept on keeping on and tried to think optimistically. At least this job allows me to burn off all those beer calories. It kinda kills two birds with one stone, I thought, providing money for beer AND a way to minimize the worst effects of all that alcohol. That was the most optimism that I could find, it’ll do for now.

I had to report back to the K-town apartment complex when I was done, but I also wanted to make sure that I would be paid for the full four hours. I finished posting the last flyer with about twenty-five minutes to spare and decided to sit on a curb until 4:00, exhausted. I stumbled up to the manager’s office, clocked out, and was in my Volvo within a few minutes. Driving home I felt like a rookie mail carrier: dead from way too much walking. Thankfully I got this job, for a while I actually thought that working for the USPS as a mailman might be cool-- fuck that. I hit the typical 5:00pm LA traffic and was too tired to be frustrated. Got home close to 6:00, pigged out on mama’s cooking, and sat down to write about the day. I still haven’t bathed, I smell, and I’m way tired. Were the conditions different I probably would have included more details regarding today’s job, instead I’d rather hit the showers.