Now about my jobs or the path to the so-called American dream. My first job was at movie theaters: both indoor and outdoor. We could watch movies for free in our spare time, grab popcorn and soda for free, and there was a discount on sweets and snacks. The duties weren't complicated either: standing at the register, making popcorn, restocking the bar with candy, cups, and popcorn buckets, and cleaning the workspace and theaters. By the middle of the season, I knew the prices by heart, made the popcorn myself, and sometimes switched movies from 3D to 2D.

still not tired and happy with free cola

collecting cardboard posters can be tough

Initially, it seemed perfect, but the problem was hidden where we least expected it. Due to unclear circumstances, the season turned out to be not very profitable; there were few customers, which automatically strained relations between managers, employees, and the bosses. The schedule was constantly changing (for the worse), our work was scrutinized under a microscope, and they looked for flaws everywhere. And when there was objectively nothing to do, we were just told not to stand still, so we cleaned everything in sight. Once, the girls were collecting and throwing away rocks from the parking lot, even though it was useless. When absolutely everything was redone, we read books, watched videos, or ate popcorn. I tried not to get discouraged and sincerely sympathized with our directors – the situation was dire.

The only thing that upset me was the reduction in hours, and yet the schedule remained too inconvenient to find a third job. Hours were cut for everyone: for some less, for others more, and it wasn't always fair. At first, I struggled, trying to find the reason and asking for extra shifts, but then the harsh truth was revealed. We were simply being evaluated and 'ranked' from the very first days, without being told about minor mistakes and without them bothering to make a remark or explain what was wrong. That's where my 'lack of smiling' (actually, it's average) backfired; I didn't wear a gloomy or dissatisfied expression. It is very important to have small talk with customers, like: 'How did you like the movie/have you tried this? How do you like the city you are in? I advise you to try/go there.' I only learned this by the end of the job because I wasn't brave at first. Managers often discussed us and our work behind our backs, and, of course, it had its consequences. Another snag was the relationships between employees within the team; we found out that the two main managers disliked each other, and naturally, the relationship with one of them influenced the relationship with the other. Sometimes I couldn't shake the feeling that my fate was being decided without me, and conclusions about me were also being drawn without me. As a result, in the eyes of others, I am a completely different person about whom strange rumors circulate. At some critical moment, this turned into a huge cloud that hung in the space, but everyone preferred to pretend that nothing was happening. I grew to hate external decorum, hypocrisy, and people's unwillingness to communicate normally. 'Thinking about work became my third job,' Anya once said. There are types of people who know how to put 'glass' between themselves and what is happening around them, and there are those who let events pass through them and take a lot to heart. I belong to the second type, and therefore I wasted a lot of time dramatizing reality and trying to find 'harmony' when I should have just let it go.

It wasn't much more fun at the second place – at the hotel. The entire housekeeping staff was from Jamaica. They are noisy, emotional like Italians, can yell from the heart, and want their own justice everywhere. Plus, they are Black and speak broken English. If regular American was understandable to me, here I felt like an idiot; and when they talk among themselves, you can only make out a couple of words. I don't know if it's related to physiology or psychology, but they are much more resilient and demand the same from you. The first few days, we felt like we had fallen into slavery. Several times I sat and cried in the middle of a room, morally devastated. We refused to believe that summer could pass like this. And so, one fine day, we quit. You might think that a happy story follows, where we found a wonderful job, but... that's not the case. The departure happened just at the time when all the staff had already been hired and trained. In such a tiny town, there turned out to be more J-1 students than tourists. Employers in unison replied that we were sweethearts, but there were no vacancies. Therefore, after idling for two weeks, with a feeling of huge awkwardness, Anya and I returned to the hotel. Strangely enough, we were accepted politely and even given uniform T-shirts. I was assigned to another manager, who was much kinder and genuinely worried about what was happening to us. She brought towels and dusted when we didn't have time to finish work on time, gave us days off outside the schedule, and forced the general manager to order pizza for the students. Once she said that she treats us like children and doesn't want us to be offended because she is a mother too. It was so sincere that no sugary smiles could replace it.

last day!

Soon I made friends with other students from Bulgaria, and we had a great time, even though working was hellishly hard. We cleaned rooms together, sang songs, shared leftover alcohol, soda, sweets, and other things that tourists couldn't take with them. (Naturally, I'm talking about sealed products). Once we found several fresh pizzas, fruit, a bunch of alcohol, and just gorged ourselves. In such moments, I thanked the hotel and the kind people who left it. It was a holy duty to come to the front desk, grab coffee and cookies from the restaurant, and chat about what kind of mess was left in the room.

no need to worry about food at work

Break for poor students

some tourists took rabbits with them - peculiar pets

Meanwhile, at the movie theater job, not the most pleasant things were happening, and that's when I clearly realized that you can never know who will stab you in the back. Sometimes enemies turn out to be friends, and those you trusted betray you. An old truth, but no less bitter for that. I didn't even notice how sharply everything turned inside out. It just remained to accept what is and work out the remaining month. Over time, the tension was forgotten, and everything seemed to have improved, but I had forever lost my initial trust. I just smiled, let out pleasantries, digging somewhere far away in my thoughts. I became almost the same as them, with one exception – I didn't flirt with those I didn't like. Here I believe that a sincere Russian soul must remain unyielding. I didn't manage to establish very warm relationships with anyone, but it was an invaluable experience. In English, there is a wonderful word, 'bittersweet,' which accurately describes my summer.

a little romance on the way home