When I just turned twenty years old, I started working at the local bakery. I was always fancied myself working in the environment where I could bake and be surrounded by the smell of bread and cakes. When I showed up myself at the work place, all the workers were in their 20s, but all older. They were very nice and friendly for the first time. They had some frequent coffee breaks and I would go there and talk. I thought I was going to like the place that day. But as time goes by, they turned out to be bad tempered in the morning because there were a lot of things to do, and on top of that, they were sleepy. One day, I knew they were grumpy early morning and knew that they don’t really greet back to me, so I didn’t even say “Good Morning.” I almost tippy toed to the position where I was supposed to be. Then one of the co-workers said “Hey, why you didn’t greet today?” then I said “Because you guys don’t greet me back.” Then the guy said “You greet to us and we don’t respond to you doesn’t mean that you don’t have to greet us!” I was frozen with the pressure I was under and I was on pins and needles then, so I made several errors like burning the breads and got scolded for those. However, in the afternoon their temper always got mellowed and we could talk more casually. We would sometimes wrestle in the kitchen even I didn’t want to. One day, I was asked to wrestle with one of the co-workers, but I refused with the reason that I was too busy working on the breads. Regardless, one guy allowed me to wrestle with all my might, so I did. I did the arm-lock around his neck from his back. Apparently it made him choked and made him furious with the fact that he almost passed out. Then he threw me down onto the floor hard and stepped me down on the ribs. The pain was excruciating with his full strength of the foot. He then told me to get to work. Later he apologized for what he did. I thought I was okay, but my ribs started hurting, so I went to the hospital for an x-ray. The doctor couldn’t tell if my ribs were cracked, but I decided to get two weeks days off. Then I returned to the workplace, then I was scheming to escape from where I was living and working. I was going to run away to my grandma’s house which is in the next prefecture, but one of the workers asked me if I wanted to quit all of a sudden, then I bursted into tears. I told everyone that I didn’t want to bake bread anymore. Then I quit there. I learned that baking bread for work is not fun at all!
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