I suppose the first thing that really changed was my job.
I got the call back almost a month after I sent my email. I almost gave up on finding a proper job, but they had called just after I got my license. In a way, the stage had really been set for my first job. I remember how fast they began to onboard me—the calls talking about “potential hiring” or “interviews” were mostly forgotten the more we talked as they had almost just accepted that they’d be bringing me on the team. At the time, I thought it was pride in being able to show initiative and prowess. Now, I have a feeling they were worried about the holiday rush coming in only 2 months.
The first thing that happened was that I was brought down into the control center and sat down to be trained immediately. The idea was that I would only have a month or so working before I left for university, so they wanted me ready to come back in December and work on christmas. It’s kinda funny, thinking about that now. I was so certain I’d work with them for so long.
My supervisor had me install an app to allow me to clock in and out for work. That day, I distinctly remember being amazed by the software. Not from a technological standpoint—the systems were simple enough that I’m sure I could code something similar in my spare time. I was more fascinated by the value it held for me. It recorded the time and controlled my payments. This was my ticket toward finally doing things myself and getting my own life. This was the first step I needed to take to open the door to my life with you.
I remember making an account as the supervisor was chatting about various expectations and the type of work I’d be doing. I don’t remember exactly what he said because that was when I looked down at my phone and saw it asking for my preferred name. Oh. Right. I hadn’t said anything over the phone since I simply didn’t have an opportunity, and now was my chance to decide whether or not I’d keep it hidden to secure my job or reveal it and be myself. It was my first understanding of how the power dynamic felt. The words trapped in my throat while I had to talk to the person who would be in charge of my place here. The person who could fire me. The person who would fire me.
I took a deep breath.
“Hey, by the way,” I stopped his train of thought, “The app has a legal and preferred name. I put my legal name, but I go by Ashley.”
“Oh,” he said as he turned back to me, “Would you prefer I called you Ashley?”
“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal.” I said.
It’s not a big deal. I was mostly lying when I said it, but I realized that for him it really wasn’t. The name he called me didn’t truly matter—what mattered was what I could do. I found myself rather disappointed in my mother’s disdain for me being as open about who I am. “It’s a big deal,” she’d always say. Yeah, for me. I thought. But in the grand scheme of things, it never really was for the people I talked to. None of my coworkers ever struggled with it either. My awakening to the real world was rather indicative that my mother was being unreasonable with how she regarded my gender identity, but I digress. She wasn’t important to the summer’s story before she came back a month later.
The first couple of times I trained were pretty chaotic. Learning under the various coworkers was a struggle of having to follow them around and attempt some of the aspects of resetting rooms or cleaning, with the added clutter of the various struggles of each of the other rooms as the daily tech issues and corner cases occurred. I continued to focus on my mental notes and began getting better and better at things. I was determined to learn everything I could about the job, and I was doing my best to prove myself. Prove that I deserved my place.
You weren’t awake at the time I was working, but I was thinking about you. Focused on doing everything I could to make you proud.
The job was pretty simple. At least, from my experience. Learning the rooms and their puzzles took only a moment. Even now I can remember some of the combinations off the top of my head, and memorizing them wasn’t mandatory. Each group was unique, but you learned to lead them all the same. 5 minutes in, a hint on where to get started. 30 minutes in, check in to make sure they’re on pace. Be in costume when needed. Thank them and ask for reviews after. There were various abnormal events, but those were the general guidelines I was following. That’s it. Again and again, till I clocked out.
Every day I felt like I had some new stories to tell you. Something funny that happened or an inconvenience I dealt with. Each drive home was a reminder of my future. Coming home to see you and tell you right away. “Hey, I saw a new fastest time,” and you’d smile. “Hey, the cameras went down during my game,” and you’d hug me. “Hey, someone there reminded me of you,” and you’d look away and blush. A rhythm I could fall in love with, knowing every night you were there after. Not to help me, or to congratulate me, or to even welcome me home. All you would need to be is you.
The night drives back home always made me smile because I knew I would one day be returning to you.