thrifting senses

What makes life easier. And quieter

The thing about thrifting that everyone should know is that hidden gems does exist as well as not figuring out that the piece of cloth in front of your eyes matters as well as hidden gems. I feel like the whole concept of making sure you get the good pieces from a thrift store always kind of puts a veil onto not being blind. But who am I to say all that when I worked one and half a day as a thrift store worker. No one. But this information came from observing. And a good observer knows things almost as close to a god.

"Hey, do you guys have like crop tops from 2000? or any pant from that time period?" A customer says and I go, "Probably, it'll be a shame if we don't cause it's a thrift store."
"Yeah..." she says, making the 'yeah' longer than it needs to be. "Guess I have to look around for a really long time."
"Why's that exactly?" I ask.
"Well..." she says, looking around the store and nodding at me in a way where she wants me to know what she's thinking but I have no idea what she's thinking to be honest. "Most of these clothes looks like they haven't seen light of day, it looks boring and I know it's very thrift store thing to have it like this but...that also doesn't mean hidden gems don't exist, so I have to like...dig deep you can say."
"Hidden gems? Dig deep?" I ask and she nods again, motioning in a way of almost feeling sorry, I don't know if she's feeling sorry for me or for herself. But I do think she should feel sorry for herself because I wouldn't want to spend time on looking for pieces of good clothes hidden away in piles of stuff. Especially when she doesn't really need to spend time on it really. Because what she wants is exactly right at her presence, well- not exactly but at least three steps away.

A light colored pink dress, originally made in 2002 right beside her. A leather jacket, probably worn by indie pop stars back in the day, two rows behind her. And a glittery pant, made exactly in 2003, I'd assume it was pretty big back then.

I honestly thought she would be able to find these all and more but as time goes by, she was looking sadder each second. I almost felt sorry for her, almost. Almost cause she looks so pretty, so sure of her presence and won't have to ever worry about feeling like your presence is worthless, by your own family, your own parents.

Then she left the store, not looking at me, not acknowledging me at all. So I thanked myself for stopping myself to ever feel sorry for someone like her.

After finishing 2 days of working at a thrift store for the first time; I realized some people always look for things, hoping to find it but never actually finding it. While most people come here to survive through life, nudity is not an option so basic tees and pants for 12 dollar works for them. I do wonder how long am I actually gonna keep this job, when will I get fired or when will I quit. But I enjoy it so much in a way I feel like I will be a little sad if I ever have to lose this job.

"Well, how's work going so far?" Lee asked, Lee by the way- is my boss, I found out few hours ago. Bit funny how I never got his name on the first day. Lee is gay. I also found this out because he was on a phone call with his boyfriend.
"It's going well." I don't lie, because it is, well- half.
"I see. Oh well, Imma go out on holiday for thanksgiving this week, I was wondering if you needed like a break or something."
"Thanksgiving?" Shoot.
"Yeah, you need like days off, right?
"I..." I don't know what to say really. One, I should tell him that I have no family who's looking for me to celebrate thanksgiving with them, nor any friends. But I know I also won't because I don't want him to feel sorry for me. Two, I can lie, which I did.
"My family..lives in other side of the country, I'm alone so I don't think I'd be needing the break."
"Oh." Lee says, "That's sad, you're gonna be spending thanksgiving alone and working?"
"I don't think I'm like, alone you know. I have neighbors."
"Oh! They invited you? Well that's cool."
"No, no..I just...."
Lee looks at me like he's feeling sorry for me, which he is. I hate when people feel sorry for me, especially for the things that I don't need anyone to feel sorry. I can't control anyone who feels certain emotions for me, but I can control to keep the window closed and door locked. Life's easier that way, quieter that way.

"Tell you what," he says, breaking the silence. "My ma is cooking a delicious turkey, she loves meeting new people. So she might like you. So how about I invite you to our thanksgiving dinner?"

Oh, this is new. He is inviting me, I've never met people who would invite me to things, especially as important as thanksgiving dinner. Dad said it's a family thing people do, I wonder why Lee ever wanna invite me to this. I can't think of any reason except he's feeling sorry for me so much that he's being kind to keep his moral compass more glossy, more shiny. I start to hate myself a little because that means I couldn't keep myself away from people feeling sorry for me. I hate when people feel sorry for me, and I hate myself even more when I let it happen, how could I let this happen.

"Amelia? Earth to Amelia?" He calls out for me and I come back from my head.
"Yeah?"
"You wanna join?"

...

People who are scared of dying, I can never relate to them. I feel like they're only scared of dying because they wanna be remembered so they wanna have time to do things or they are scared of it because their loved ones will miss them. I don't think I have any of it, I don't have any of it. That's what makes this life thing easier. And quieter. I thought of where I would be buried, who would come to my funeral. Well, of course no one. So I don't have to pay for people to be even able to attend the day when I won't even exist even to witness. No, one person would come. I think it's the girl from fourth grade, she was so sweet to me. She would come, it's sad that I don't remember her name now but she was sweet, she was cool. And maybe...Lee. I think he's more than human enough to be there. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have invited me. It's a delight and a shame that I said no to him. Delight because life is easier, quieter that way which I love. But a shame because for once in a very long time, I felt like I mattered. Mattered in a way that I felt someone cared enough about me to think of inviting me to a dinner where it's more family-oriented. And I ended it, the rare possible chances of my entire life.

If people feel pity for you, you are doing something wrong.

Dad said. Dad always know how to come back with his words on my brain. Funny because he's not here, he left. So why do I keep having situations in my life where every sentences dad said come to my brain. I never liked him, I hated him. So why does every words, every letters he ever said to me won't stop ever ending in my head? Maybe because most of the things he said are probably true. Most because one day he said he was supposed to be rich if he hadn't knocked my mom out. Which is a total lie because I don't think being a fisherman is a ladder which leads to rich life.

I doze off to sleep.