Yesterday was my third last day at Callister's. Yes, I have quit this job three times, and always on the absolute best of terms. Callister's has happily taken me back time and time again, even as I forget pereptually what the differene is between each of the farrier forges, what the difference is between keepers, togs, and slobber straps, and which saddles are rawhide, ralide, or fiberglass reinforced trees. The management has its issues, but for the most part, the people I work with on the floor are the absolute best coworkers that I've ever had.
This past month I was shuffled between the clothing department, the hats and boots department, and of course, tack. Everywhere I went, I was reintroduced to the daily achievements and struggles and pleasures of the middle class American West. People getting cheated on, people's injured horses, people's beautiful western weddings, people trying to get by with bad pay, bad hours, and a big truck payment. but they do it, and they do it with grace and good humor.
I had so missed the sturdy constitution of those who make up my rural past. there are so many things we don't see eye to eye on, and that's what makes my heartfelt companionship with my coworkers all the more meaningful. It doesn't matter what you think or how you feel- come in, do your job well, respect people, be polite and dependable, and make me laugh once in awhile- that's a good friend and a good coworker.
I'll be back to the cubicle job tomorrow, but not without the skills I have been thrice retaught by my favorite Western Outfitters. and not without the knee high Tony Lama cowboy boots I picked up there, either.