Sunday, March 15, 2009

Scanning your eyes pupil at a time!

I hate my job. Truly, I do. I wish this job death. Friday the 13th, was indeed the shittiest day at my store. I was cursed out by one old fart and told I disgrace my family with my body 'defacement' by another.

The bad part is...there's no where else for me to go. I truly feel that my A.D.D won't allow me to work on the floor. I can't even shop without stopping a thousand times to look at things that are shiny/sparkly/glittery/metallic/etc. I think floor work will only bore me to tears.

What does that leave? Why, yes! Cashiering. In my store, this is known as 'punishment'. Anyone who does something bad, but not Donald Trump, "YOU'RE FIRED!" bad, they are sent to the cubicle of suffering A.K.A....the register. Most either quit or become nuns.

On top of everything, the new store rules are killing me. I can't pass gas without 'Bob' the manager, asking me how that affects the team...and remember kids, "There is no 'I' in 'Shut the Fuck Up You Dumb Ass!'"


I will hanger-whip the next customer who dares tell me to go to church because I have an eyebrow piercing. All you'll see is the zebra print of my uniform spider monkey over the desk and the blurring of a hanger.

*double sigh*

The whole Friday the 13th story later....for now, I need to watch something calming, like 'Little Miss Sunshine' or 'Cloverfield'.



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