Personally, I roll more than I rock

Grah.  Work today, as usual, sucked.  One of these days, I’m going to beat up work and make it give me its lunch money.  That’ll teach it.

I hate it when people do this…they come just a foot inside the store and stare at the ear piercing station…and then wait, expecting us to immediately run over there and help them.  I’m sorry, but when I’m eating lunch and Mel is reworking the schedule, we do not respond to telepathy.  We respond to someone walking the THREE STEPS it takes to reach the cashwrap and say, “Hello.  I would like an ear piercing!”

So this lady has come in and stood there for, maybe, 2 seconds, before she says in a loud, bitchy voice, “Well, I WOULD like to get my daughter’s ears pierced, except that the girls who work here are too lazy to come help.”

Mel and I were standing next to each other and we both looked up at her at the same time with an evil glare in our eyes.  She ignored it.  Mel told me that she’d do the piercing, as I was eating, so she went over to The Bitch.  While I munched, I overheard The Bitch and Mel fighting.  Finally, her 15 year old daughter told her mom to get the hell away from her so that Mel could do the ear piercing.  Go 15 year old.

So The Bitch walks up to the cash wrap.  I’m eating and watching her out of the corner of my eye.  She picks up the tester for the Britney Spears perfume and reads the sign that says, “Please, do not spray me.”

“It’s a tester.  Why the hell can’t I spray it?”

Her son looks up and says, “One of the girls who works here is allergic to it.”

“Well that’s retarded.  How can I tell if I like it if I can’t spray it?”

I face her and reply, “I’m sorry that my allergy is retarded, but my migraines ARE severe.  If you would like to spray it, you may do so outside.”

She looks a bit abashed and then says, “No, I don’t want to spray it.  Do you have any for sale?”

I look and see we’re out.  “No, I’m sorry, we don’t have anymore.”

“Well, I want to buy the tester then.”

“It’s not for sale.”

“But I want it!”

“I’m sorry.”

You know how you can say ‘I’m sorry’ in that completely not-sorry way that lets people know how idiotic you think they are but is still considered ‘polite’ enough that you can’t be fired?  Yeah.  I said it like that.

She stomped around after that while Mel and I snickered.  When she left, a woman came in with the most horrible mullet ever.  I just stared at her, unable to tear my eyes away from her head.  It was like someone killed a black raccoon and stuck it on a blonde mop.  HIDEOUS.

So yes.  That was my day.  Tomorrow I’m going to C-ville with Cheng.  Woohoo that.  I think I’ll buy lingerie.  I don’t have enough of that.  Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll actually be able to use it this weekend.  Woooooohoooo!