Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Zufa

After she took a shower herself, she cooked me supper, and it was pretty much like I expected. Gray hairy crab legs, some leftover meatloaf, and something like caviar. Since I couldn't care less about being poisoned or drugged at this point, I ate everything on my plate.
She called that gray stuff "Zufa" and it was halfway decent. It wasn't what I expected, but it was all right. The closest thing I could compare it to is pork mixed with candy and thousand island salad dressing. That's not accurate, but it's kind of what it was like. The caviar tasted, well, like caviar, with sort of a cheese flavor. I only ate the stuff because I was hungry.
While I ate, she told me stuff about the job. She said we're required to wear uniforms on the station, and that the station is fairly large and you could actually see outside. She said we were in a shuttle and that's why it had no windows. She said the station is powered by solar energy and gravitational power generated by Jupiter and that the break rooms get all the channels because we're up in space where the satellites are.
She also told me about some new policies, like how there aren't any breaks, only a fifteen minute lunch and that the caller needs to scan their identification into the computer before I can assist them with their locked spaceship.
The break thing caught me off guard. I asked her what happened if I had to go to the bathroom, being there's no "health breaks" or breaks period, and she just said "I'd learn more about that when I got onboard". Whatever. I figured I didn't have a choice, but I could probably find some wiggle room somewhere.
We got done eating and I went back to watching HBO on the hologram. Since we weren't talking, she made bad attempts at conversation. She asked me what I thought about my coworkers at BBL. I gave her a guarded response, so she asked me if I had any prejudices against race.
I said I was okay with black people, and as a Christian I have to love people of all races, but certain customers get on my phone and give the whole African American race a bad name.
She tells me that her people are discriminated against by the color of their fur. That made me laugh, but she was serious. She said it was difficult for the green people to get work. Okay. Sure. That's great. I'm wearing your clothes and a bikini because you made me throw out all my stuff and ruined my food and I'm supposed to feel sorry for you.
She asked me if I liked her fur color and I said it was okay.

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