I stumbled over some old comics I did about my experience working in a trophy store. In a nut shell it was literally the worst job I ever had. The owner (the crocodile) was a smarmy racist (although he didn’t know it), hypocrite. I used to draw myself as a goat back then. The naked mole rat joke is almost dead on accurate. This one lady would come into our store often to buy most beautiful baby trophies, and she would wear that mask. I thought it was weird.
I finally quit after only working there for about two years because I couldn’t stand it anymore. It got to be where I literally wanted to DIE rather than go in to work, it was seriously that bad. I would have nightmares about being at work. The stress level was incredibly high, and thankfully I realized being suicidal was among the signs of needing to quit that fucking job, so I did, and never looked back. It was the best idea I ever had to leave.