I used to work in a little Mom 'N' Pop grocery store that wasn't so much owned by Mom or Pop but by an old, tightwad bastard and his incompetent son. Stop me if you've heard that before.
I started as a bagboy and sacked groceries for more than a year before they let me stock a shelf. My starting rate was $4.25 an hour. I topped out at $5.00/hr. nearly three years later.
I hated that job, but met so many people who exist on the fringes, scraping by, living on government assistance, and somehow getting through. I swallowed a lot of pride, learned how to clean a public toilet, mop waxed tile, and put up with people's shit.
I also fell in love with a cashier named Autumn, who shot me down. She had a southern accent and went through three boyfriends in the three years I worked with her -- each time she was single (briefly) I felt like I had a chance. I never did.
I was 19. I fell in love with every girl then. I haven't seen her since.
For me, a little film like this brings back those memories, but also seems to link to my present. I've had screenwriterly ambitions for years but never quite put it all together -- life gets away. We are all on a continuum, sitting between Paz Vega's restless cashier and Morgan Freeman's clueless but famous actor.
Whatever our dreams, be they humble or lofty, personal or professional, the film leaves us with a great line: "We live. We work. We're just getting started. We'll never see each other again."
"I was 19. I fell in love with every girl then."
ReplyDeleteThis is possibly the most profound, universal thing you've ever written. You should run with it.