Working on the Holidays

Patriotic Cat overdoes it--just like my neighbors.

As I write this, there are screams of "Chug! Chug! Chug!" moving from the house next door. It is safe to say that there is some drinking going on next door. And I also saw one of my neighbors light fireworks in the middle of the street--the fountain type--good for you keeping it away from your completely brown yard that is just one spark away from going up in smoke.

And my thoughts overhearing the loud partying in the neighborhood:

"God, was I ever so young?"
"Gee, my wife has to work tomorrow; I hope that they shut up soon."
"I wonder if it is wrong to base the next murder victim on my neighbor." (I am working on a science fiction story and someone is about to have "an accident" involving an airlock.
And "I am really glad that I am not working at some burger flipping job tonight--all these drunks would insist on coming though my drive-thur."

For the record, I do not miss working at a restaurant and dealing with customers on a holiday, especially drunk customers. And I used to deal with more than my fair share every holiday that involved alcohol.

(I am hard pressed to think of a single holiday that does not involve drinking.)

And who gets to work on the drinking holidays? Yes, that is right--the poorest Americans. One way to guarantee that you are working tonight and dealing with the drunks is to make minimum wage.

I don't miss it at all.