Got my computer, so I'm finishing this up.

Everything in me has changed: my appearance (lost weight, got a tan), my walk (became more confident and somehow even cocky... maybe that's not great, but still), my speech (tired of beating around the bush, so I get straight to the point), my way of thinking (I see people's motives. And I trust those whose benefit from working with me outweighs the fake 'I do everything for people, for free, I'm an altruist!'), and in general, I've just become more confident (although I still knock on doors with my childish voice and timidly ask: helloooo?)

I would never have dared to yell at my boss or fight with a big black mama before. Oh, didn't I tell you?

Well, basically, I was working in the laundry. And there's this woman working there, big and black (though everyone there is big and black) and always unhappy with everything. We always have radio 100.5 playing. They play fun, popular songs that make working less boring. And then I come from the hotel to the laundry and see gloomy faces. Everyone is silently doing sheets and towels, and Pamela is standing by the radio swaying. It turned out that they had been listening to some tunes from the 20s-30s since the morning (I arrived no earlier than 3-4 pm)... Because Pam said that's what she wanted. I started working and it was really boring. Everyone is silent, no one is tapping along... I walked up and asked if we could switch it, because it was boring and quiet. To which I got an absolutely unambiguous answer: No way. Tired of your dancing, now I'm going to listen to what I like.

I hadn't turned on 'new Masha' yet, and as it always was, I just said 'okay' and stepped aside. 10 minutes felt longer than ever. It's just impossible to work to the sound of dreary radio and the silence of the laundry. I waited until Pam left and switched the station. Things went more cheerfully. But then the fury returned and started to settle scores: who was so brave and had enough teeth to switch her station. I turn around and just say that since one station had been playing almost all day and everyone was tired of it, I took the liberty of switching it. And then I see a belly with breasts moving towards me... it loomed over me for a long time, flowed around me, and stopped right in front of my face. And this dialogue took place: She: So, bitch, who gave you permission to boss around here?

I: I'm not a bitch. I'm Maria. It's interesting why I can remember your name, but you can't remember mine. I switched the station just because I don't like the other one.

She: You think if Miss Phyllis forgives you a lot, it will work with me too? Hell no! Switch this fucking station right now or you'll regret it!

I: I'm not switching anything. You're here on the same terms as I am. Not a centimeter higher, and don't you dare yell at me, it doesn't make you smarter or prettier! I won't switch anything because I'm not the only one who wants this! Conversation over!

she raised her index finger and started yelling in Spanish that these foreigners are crazy and in general... later I regretted that I had only studied Spanish for a couple of months, although the tone made everything clear after that, a couple of women, more reasonable ones, came up to me and said thank you for standing up to Pam... she had gone too far. Always unhappy with everyone, yelling, pointing fingers, and no one understands why.

The story with the boss happened just a couple of days ago.

I, as Ms. Maid, work in the laundry on a voluntary-compulsory basis. That is, if I want to, I go; if not, I can leave under disapproving looks, but no one will say anything. And so, one day I'm working in the laundry until 6 pm (which is not at all typical for me, and in general, you could end the story here). Somewhere at 5:56 my phone rings and I, answering it, am already walking to change clothes and head out. Here my Truck catches me (let me remind you that this is my manager, a big fat not-quite-black-not-quite-mexican-not-quite-panamanian) and starts yelling in my face out of habit (this is not just to me, but in general, he has such a manner of speaking: yelling in your face with his terrible accent and periodically spraying saliva for extra effect)

He: MARIA KUDAKOVA! HELL NO YOU WILL NOT BE TALKING ON THE PHONE DURING WORKING HOURS!

I: Truck, everything is fine, I'm already leaving and this is an important call (Maga was calling about an apartment, money, and rent... really important).

He: No! No! No!!! You can't!! I said you can't talk on the phone!! I fire people for this!!

I: Truck, stop yelling in my face!!!!!

He: Maria!! What, do you want to be fired?!! I will fire you!! Say thank you that I even hired you for a good job!! Don't you dare talk on the phone!! I've fired people for this!!

I: Well, fire me then!!! Fire me right now and I won't have to endure your yelling in my face and ears every day! Fire me right now and tomorrow you'll be doing all my rooms yourself!

He: That's it! You're fired! Clock out and get out! clock-out is a system that records our arrival and departure from the workplace to know how many hours someone has worked and accordingly pay the salary

I clocked out and demonstratively walked 10 centimeters away from him, already thinking that I would live this month like at a resort: I had already paid for the apartment, so it was practically a hotel with a view of the ocean and a bunch of free time.

The next morning I find out that no one fired me, because my supervisor (Miss Phyllis... a grandma of about 60, who has worked at the hotel for 27 years... she also technically reports to Truck, but in reality, it's the other way around) told Truck everything she thought of him and declared that she would never fire me, even if I didn't show up for work for a week and fought with all the staff. So I am unfireable, which, in general, is quite flattering to my ego.

Everyone who knows me even a little can note that I would never have done anything like this in my life... BEFORE America. But now I'm not afraid at all to stand up for myself (but I still start doing it culturally) to anyone, whether it's a manager or a 'bully'. It has become easier for me to approach a person on the street and ask something.