Friday, December 30, 2011

I almost died.

Everything was going great at work, then, suddenly, without warning, I got put on the closing shift, like, EVERY fucking night in a row. Guess what, third world, my problems are totally WORSE!

Thanks to Santamas, FuckingCapris was open until midnight. Thank GOD, because pretty much NO ONE wanted to shop that late. It also meant that the earliest us 'closers' would be able to leave was one in the morning. One night I didn't get out of there until THREE. It took all my willpower to not strangle myself with a pair of boot cut skinny jeans in size obese.

Also, someone of infinite observation disabilities, decided I was THE PERFECT person to be cashier ALL THE FUCKING TIME! Hello, dirtwads! When I got hired you totally said you would work with our STRENGTHS, ie, put us derelict nut jobs in places where trying to act like normal human beings who give a shit about anyone's consumer needs is kept to a minimum!!


Me pretending to be helpful is the most embarrassing thing EVER!

Since NO ONE was the least bit interested in our BULLSHIT SUPREME holiday hours, most of my time was spent folding t-shirts. But every second I was forced to ring up purchases was absolutely EXCRUCIATING. I would rather fold ten thousand t-shirts than try to help even one 40 year old size 20 woman search through the clearance rack for pants appropriate to wear to her job at WhattaBurger.

Also, someone peed in a dressing room. I didn't have to clean it up. If I did, everyone in the store that night would be dead and you would know where I live and what I look like and could totally write love letters to me in prison.

Sad for you.


Sling Khidorah said...

Almost Murder, She Wrote

Mister Baekseju said...

I would have loved to send you letters in prison. I had a prison penpal once. She was batshit crazy. But that is another story.