In an inexplicable scheduling error, the third day shift I've been scheduled for in a month falls on Thursday. For those of you who are wondering, Thursday is gonna be kind of a big day for New Orleans.
I got an email inviting me to a pre-march march up St Charles, as people roil along the wide avenue, banners and flags a flying, drums a drumming, feet not failing on their way to the big march.
The bad news is, the folks I asked to cover my shift, who were available to, can't switch for my shift, so I'll be rolling burritos that morning. The good news is, they didn't want to switch because they are going to the rally, too. Which is fine with me, so long as they bring all the folks that they know, and this I told 'em.
So I will be unable to march, but I'll be wearing black and red in solidarity, and I will tune the radio in the store to coverage of the march. And, hopefully, once the march is over, some of the folks who end up walking back Uptown will stop into Juan's and tell the red bandana-ed pantry cook how things went down.
Update: How cool is my boss? After I was done writing this, she calls me up to tell me that she had my day shift switched out. I'll have my walkin' shoes ready.