The Second Most Dangerous Job in America by Steve Himmer
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This e-book short (57 pages) from author Steve Himmer reads like some hybrid of novel and memoir, so clear and realistic are the experiences related by the protagonist. Set up in 50 short chapters that each more or less detail an individual encounter, the book is like a bunch of anecdotes told by a friend.
The Second Most Dangerous Job in America is what one assumes is a semi-autobiographical account of the odd and dispiriting experiences of an undergrad staffing the local 24-hour convenience store, working the counter in the middle of the night/morning. The unnamed main character is on summer break from college, and his chronicle of the depressing mundanity of the task will no doubt be uncomfortably familiar to anyone who’s spent time in a job they didn’t care to do or take seriously. Because, to the credit of the author, he isn’t being insulting to the work as a career choice; these are merely the way these experiences present themselves to someone punching the clock unengagingly. While he paints sometimes unflattering portraits of the night creatures that wander through this fluorescent oasis, there’s no mean-spiritedness at play here. The book is simply an account of the sort of things that can happen in the middle of the night in a small college town that has discharged all of the students for a few months.
Confused drunks, manky hookers, indie rockers and other refugees from a Tom Waits album pass through the sliding doors, depositing wisdom, loose change and random expletive-filled proclamations before vacating the store, leaving the young man alone once more. It’s really story of solitude, very much in keeping with the author’s first novel, The Bee-Loud Glade: A Novel.
The sheer banality of the repetitive interactions and quiet hours are implicit, made obvious from the weariness of the character rather than the reader having to experience first hand. The Second Most Dangerous Job in America is a marvel of efficiency; the author is able to utilize the reader’s familiarity of the the carbon copy convenience store setting and cut straight to quick musings interspersed with exchanges with the eccentric clientele.
The book is a quick read – the first time I read it I tore through it on one train ride. It’s fun to revisit, as well. There’s a familiarity to the writing not unlike the moment you step through the doors and the bell dings and you realize that no matter where you are or how long it’s been, the convenience store is always the same, forever…
