You see, apart from dealing with his mentally challenged intern who decided to take-on a job at some Fitness studio because Ben - JM's boss, my nephew - refuse to give him a pay-rise, which is just under RM200, "I'm gonna quit this job and go work there," JM told me he said that, "They're giving me RM1.6K per month!"
What an idiot. Most interns don't even get paid and they have to make coffee and buy back lunch for the employees.
So you see, he doesn't even realize that he's an intern. A bloody soddin' dumb fuck Mass-Com student who somehow thought that he had mastered Photoshop after having just one class, hence interning at an ad agency. And now he wants to finish off the remainder of his internship at a gym. Ain't that just brilliant? I would love to meet his mom.
Anyway, apart from this sappy dingbat, JM now endures the second-coming. The New Colleague. She's indian and according to JM, "She's your standard run-of-the-mill traditional Indian girl," in which he added that she basically keeps to herself a lot. Well, apart from shutting off the air-conditioner and cranking up Bollywood hit singles at full volume, that is. I can't imagine JM in that studio now. He sweats inside an air-conditioned room. And now it's shut off. Poor fella.
To make matters worst, he doesn't quite dare to tell her to change the tunes, "Dude, I don't want to sound like a racist to her lah," he tells me, "I don't know what to do with this music!"
I told him that why not be more subtle and go, "We rather listen to music we all can understand," which I think he hasn't done that.
For some reason, this made me reminisce an old part-time job I did when I was still in college. It was way before Apple and a year before my internship with KLue Magazine. It was some Interior Design firm. They placed an ad in our college. It pays quite well and I only need to work 2-3 days for 3-4 hours at a time only.
You might wonder what a graphic design student is doing in an Interior Design firm. Well, they needed our Photoshop skills to crop and place people in their 3D renderings. Which I think they could so do it themselves, but just too bloody lazy. So they hired us. It was a sweet job. We get to smoke inside the office, go in out whenever we please to take more photographs of random people while munching something, which we can claim back later via the receipt.
It was the sweetest part-time job I've ever had, until this bloke who sits next to me started cranking up cheesy and very tacky Chinese Hip-hop music. To further exacerbate things, it is one of those Chinese songs where they throw in the occasional few lines of English in it.
"Ching chong ching chong microphone ching chong ching I love you so ching chong ching chong ching chong chong!! Ohhh!!! Ching chong microphone chong ching ching I love you soOoOOoOo..."
OK I get it. You obviously LOVE microphones.
Somehow - though sitting next to him - I defied that mediocre music. I didn't let it bother me. Slowly, I swear, it got louder and louder, and he was even singing to it, complete and utterly out of tune. It didn't help that his collection diversified every hour, every day.
3-days later I quit. I'm not paid enough for this.
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