(To Dante about his constant complaining of the events that transpired during the day) Oh, **** you! **** you, pal! There you go, trying to pass the buck; "I'm the source of all your misery." Who closed the store to play hockey? Who closed the store to go to a wake? Who tried to get back together with his ex-girlfriend without even discussing how he felt with his present one?! You wanna blame somebody? Blame yourself! (mockingly) "I'm not even supposed to be here today." You sound like an asshole! Jesus, nobody twisted your arm to be here. You're here of your own volition. You like to think the weight of the world rests on your shoulder. Like this place would fall apart if Dante wasn't here. Jesus, you overcompensate for having what's basically a monkey's job. You push ****ing buttons. Anybody can just waltz in here and do our jobs. You're so obsessed with making it seem so much more epic, so much more important than it really is. Christ, you work in a convenience store, Dante, and badly, I might add. I work in a shitty video store, badly as well. You know, that guy Jay's got it right, man. He has no delusions about what he does. Us, we like to make ourselves seem so much more important than the people that come in here to buy a paper, or, god forbid, cigarettes. We look down on them as if we're so advanced. Well, if we're so ****ing advanced, what are we doing working here?
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