One very long stereotypical cocktail party. That is the only way I can describe my new work environment. The Art Museum seems to be a deposit of dramatic, emotional people who happen to know how to run a cash register for minimum wage.

This is my fourth job since November. My previous employers were a bit upset with the idea of me wanting to go to class instead of working for them full time, so it was a mutual decision that it was time for me to move on. Besides, the land of cubicles was starting to wear on my general happy-go-fortunate outlook on life. The idea that cubicles and company loyalty was as good as it got for many people is a bit depressing. Just wait until I go to a developing country.

As I was just beginning to enjoy having weekends off, I started to use that time for looking for a new job. Since I have become more comfortable with being a transient employee, I figured I would just get another job for now and look for a better one in the meantime. I also wanted to go see the traveling exhibit at the art museum, but I didn't want to pay the ten bucks for admission. So I did the next best thing. I got a job there.

It has worked out perfectly. I use my breaks and lunch hours to view the exhibit for free and I get paid for telling people where the bathrooms are and selling them trinkets they don't need. However, I think one weekend is quite enough for me. The people who work at the gift shop are predominantly young women who call themselves the 'Gift Store Chicks'. They are fashionably hip with their dark alternative clothing and pale white skin. The talk is mainly centered around being terribly concerned with saving the world through rice milk and what everyone's astrological signs are, so they know who to schedule to work together. (We wouldn't want a Scorpio and a Leo working together, now would we?). We have a Buddhist zealot who is worse than many Jehovah's Witnesses I have met, a drop-out art history major and one boy from Georgia who liked the music in Oregon so he decided to move here.

The drama of the whole place is very interesting to watch. There always seems to be some sort of spat going on, usually stemmed from coming back from lunch two minutes late equating to not respecting the other person's space bubble. I have already p**sed of the Buddhist zealot for getting into a philosophical debate with her, pointing out the inconsistencies in her argument of 'respecting all people'; and then calling everyone in Texas 'racist pigs' Also, she might be a bit sore about me laughing in her face for telling me not to make change for a customer because of the national quarter shortage.

The others seem nice, but all of them are a bit on the myopic, emotional side. The Art Museum is their world and the outside doesn't register in their minds too well.

With a wonderful interview on Monday, I think my days at the museum are numbered.