Rock Bottom

The sun was wretched, beating down on my already aching head. It was my first day of work, and I now understand fully why this job is so lucrative; because no one in their right mind wants a job like this. It was my first day as a circulator.
I believed that because I was never rude or abrupt with circulators in my life (where as other people rush by them and mumble rude obstinacies) that I would have good karma and people would at least be respectful. But, unfortunately while standing outside target with three petitions in hand I realized, at times your parents karma lives through you. My father dislikes circulators and when I told him of my new found job he said “I dislike those people, I never stop for them… waste of time” and my mother “oh, I can’t stand those people… I don’t even look at them; sometimes I give them dirty looks.”
I had set up what seemed to be the best written pitches for each petition, I regrettably forgot I’m a much better writer then I am a speaker.
As I stood outside of target asking every ma’am and sir for a moment of their time, it became increasingly obvious to me that I was alone. That everyone is alone. While I stood there a conversation I had with my cousin began to percolate in my system. I was telling my cousin how I was not afraid of any decision I make because I knew for some reason I could never hit rock bottom. That I would know financial struggle but rock bottom was just not ever going to occur in my life. “That or you’ve already hit rock bottom and you don’t even know” she said jokingly.
“Was this rock bottom?” I asked myself, “Am I so delusional that I am not even aware of my own level of life?” There I was standing under the wretched sun, smiling at the people who were ignoring me, babbling under their breathe, and hating my existence, realizing I’d hit rock bottom so hard that I’ve knocked myself unconscious and got amnesia. “What am I doing here?”
As I came to a bleak understanding of my position in this world, the universe hit me square in the face.
“Hi, may I have a moment of your time?” I asked a woman smiling, she flipped her chemically enhanced blonde hair and yelled with a evil fixation “No, my time is precious!” and she under-cut me with “I’m moving my daughter into college today.”
“Have a nice day, BITCH!!” I yelled in my head… The chemically enhanced, botoxed up 50 year old, looking as if a damn glittered pink truck hit her made me want to scream… I had hit rock bottom, It should have been my 2nd day as a student at the University of Bridgeport but instead it was my first day as a circulator.