Not having a hangover the morning after your birthday is a sign that you’re getting old. Or at least that you’re growing up. Not that those two things have ever been linked to each other.
The kids from Buckle, Inc. left the hotel last night. The rest of us were able to get some sleep, finally. The indentured servants from Sam’s Club all rolled out this morning. I feel really sorry for those guys. Having to wake up every day and go to a job that’s helping kill off America’s family owned businesses must be depressing. How hard is it to know that the company putting food on your table is the same one that is lowering the bar for how to treat employees for the rest of corporate America? It’s got to be even worse for them when they realize that their own wages are barely enough to keep them above the poverty line. And then one day it hits them that the imports they sell are adding to the unemployment lines where they live. Then their store will close because there’s no more room for growth, because of the success of their store.
At least I’m headed back to my government job and long term stability.
