Happy Holidays... Unless You Are a K-Mart Shopper
So here I am, home for the holidays. And since I have about a month off, I delved back into my old job, at K-Mart. It actually isn't a bad job, all the bosses like me, I get to be pretty lazy, I have some cute cowokers, and the food at the Little Caesars restaurant doesn't ALWAYS make me vomit. However, there is one aspect to K-Mart that I almost always despise... the customers. Man, that place would totally rule if we never let anyone into the doors. Unfortunately, when I ran that plan by the managers they didn't seem to take me seriously. Instead, I've decided to give you readers (who I assume all shop at some point) some tips on how to be a customer. So, without further ado, I give you...
1. Don't Bitch About Martha Stewart to Me Yes, I am aware that Martha Stewart has a line of shit at K-Mart. Yes, I know she was involved in a stock scandal. Yes, I know she is an uber-bitch and quite possibly a Nazi. However, I don't need to hear some yokel dipshit telling me about her and all of her problems. First of all, I don't give a shit about her, I make my 7 bucks an hour no matter what. Secondly, most of these people have no idea about the real intricacies of the case, though you seem to think you do. Thirdly, I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!!!!!! Oh wait, I said that already... oh well.
2. If You Ask Me If We Have Something, Believe Me OK, seriously here. When you ask me if we have car cd players and I tell you that we don't have car cd players... that should be it. Don't ask me if I'm sure. Don't roll your fucking eyes at me. Don't ask if anyone else would know for sure. All of those things make me want to punch you right in the left testicle (or ovarie for you ladies). If I say we don't have something, we don't. I've been working at this shithole for way too long, I know where everything is. Even if I didn't, I wouldn't just say we didn't have it. That usually leads to getting bitched at when you nose around and find it. Which leads me to number three...
3. Don't ask to speak to my manager So you assholes think that I'm going to shit my pants when you ask to see my manager, like I'm going to break down crying because I was rude to you and now I'm going to pay. First of all, when you think I'm being a dick, think again, because it's you, not me, asshole. On that note, don't ask to talk to my manager... ever. My manager is on my side in all instances other than one in which you are laying there dead with an axe from hardware sticking out of your head. And then my manager is only pissed because I used floor merchandise instead of the perfectly good company axe in the back room. Also, talking to my manager is not going to get me fired. You don't have that power, you fucking tool. We don't care about your opinion. In fact, after you leave, my manager calls you a bitch and we have a good laugh at your expense. So please, don't even bother.
4. Don't harass me about Wal-Mart This is the last and most important rule. When we don't have something when I'm out on the floor, or when you think something is too expensive when I'm at the checkouts, there are five words I never never never never want to hear (well, six words with a hyphen between two of them): "I'll just go to Wal-Mart!" The worst is when people say this all snotty and then give me that look like it's supposed to break my will to live. Newsflash, I make too near minimum wage to really give a flying fuck where you buy your off-brand toilet paper. The fact that you can get your shit cheaper elsewhere makes me happy, it means that maybe you won't pollute my store with your "rapier wit" anymore. I swear, the next person that says that to me is getting a Finding Nemo DVD crammed right up there ass... wrapper and alll.
On that uplifting note, I suppose I should say Merry Christmas. Hope everyone's having a good time. I will be back in Minneapolis around New Years, and hopefully we're throwing a little shindig that will have some good photos to put up. I also have seen the Sex World pictures I promised earlier, and they are hilarious, but they have to be scanned in yet. Oh well, on to...
Damn it, I swear I heard they were coming somewhere around here, where I could sleep with both of them.
Liz Bender told me that one of her roommates stole her underwear from Victoria's Secret for Christmas. I ran into this story and it reminded me of that, so now it's a link.
This is pretty funny, and it's from The Onion. Least essential CD's of 2003.
Best News EVER!! Alf may be coming back... I love Alf