First Day

She says the store's soothing atmosphere is do to the meridian line on which it lies, then she laughs it off awkwardly as a crack appears in her confidence. Maybe my earrings are throwing her off. I don't mind, it feels like home, like something my mother would say. My first day at my new job as shelf monkey starts in an hour, and I'm excited. I like this place. I want things to work out the way they do in sitcoms. I want to fall in love with the store and the people, become comfortable in a second home and have lots of mundane yet charmingly funny experiences for a long time to come. I want my last day at the store to be a day of sadness and nostalgia. First I have to figure out what a stock report is. I think the calming essence of the place is due to the smell of all the books. I've always loved the smell of books. My Godfather's house smelled of books, where I spent many hours eating, laughing and playing games as a child. It was an old school house, it's high ceilings and huge main floor class room, the place that is now a kitchen, dining and living room rolled into one, it's hardwood floors sandblasted smooth by decades of quiet, little feet, had the same peculiar, vaguely musty odor. My Godmother also owned a store, a health food/ ethical clothing/ gift/ all things quirky store, with the same friendly, comforting atmosphere that led customers to linger at the counter, chatting. Forty five minutes, give or take. When I went in for my interview last week, Joy (my new boss) arrived ten minutes late to open up for the day. I immediately felt more at ease. Her soft Norfolk accent contrasts with her energetic personality. She's just like Penny. I feel like I belong here...and besides, I already know where the politics and current events books are kept.