This mini-memoir is written in free verse, drawing from entries in my journal that I’ve shaped through creative writing. I am working on a collection of vignettes to be published on Amazon. Cheer me on! 😉

This piece is still being edited…

Posing in my Personal Protective Equipment (PPE)

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Jobless – Chapter One

By JJ Faucher

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Alliston, Ontario

The day of the interview flew by

like it had never happened.

I wore the suit,

pressed the resume in an old Times magazine,

and chased the promise of being hired.

With the same reverence as a confession.

I offered up my qualifications like sins,

hoping for absolution

in the form of a job offer.

I took a deep breath, and the next day I was

Offered the job.

They handed me:

a name badge,

a cash register,

and a dish pit that said,

“Team Player!”

My cozy welcome

started with a maze of chaotic regret.

On the third day, the morning

began with the uncertainty about

whether the coffee was stale or fresh.

The cook asked me about the only spatula

which was used for serving the eggs and bacon

and I suspected

that it was still in the dish pit.

My head was spinning, too much was happening

too fast!

I burned in the dish pit,

the kitchen, and cafeteria;

while the clock ticked off

a litany of those still to be served,

customers and staff alike.

The boss admired my silence,

mistook exhaustion for zeal, 

“Such potential!”

She’d patted me on the back,

and I’d feel my body stiffening.

Soon, a quiet calculation started

working on my neurons–

How much more time do I have

to complete the first round of dishes?

How many minutes till the first break?

How long is lunch? 

My mind is pacing. Give me five more minutes.

A memo was pinned on the staff board,

For fifteen minutes to go over some new

Food-related policy.

Of which I know that I’ll be a little late for

I have to finish this third round of dishes.

Today, I am doing overtime with no pay because

there’s a discrepancy with my cash register.

My float is not balanced; I am missing twenty dollars!

The grind was a god.

I bowed till my knees went numb and

prayed more than the beads on the Rosary. 

Chapter 2-Covid-19

Then came the coronavirus, sweeping in like royalty,

demanding reverence.

Some bowed in fear, others rolled up their sleeves,

ready to fight.

It didn’t take long for the email,

“Don’t come into work today, until further notice,

Please stay away.”

A sense of relief hugged me,

God, I needed that break–

the same way I needed the money.

My feet moved in a quiet dance of pain,

the kind that comes from standing too long.

The idea of the bubble emerged,

and we were told to remain within it.

No longer just the round, floating sphere

my daughter chased at the water park.

Its invisibility took

the shape of a line,

encircling a table,

stretching across the backyard,

staying politely on the lines at the supermarket.

Whatever its form, it defined our space–

Six feet apart.

But still, no one escaped the stealth

of this invisible thief.

Gradually, the job was no more.

Pointless.

Suddenly, it happened,

the air felt lighter.

Just like that, travel restrictions were lessened,

as if the lockdowns had never happened.

I felt at ease, with nothing pressing to complain about.

The Ontario government had looked after us well,

but Employment Services?

They tangled things up more than they helped.

 So, I let them be and moved on.

Now, that’s another chapter…

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Thanks for reading! 😊