My shoes are in! and they are super cute! and umm…I’m not sure if they fit. To be fair, I’m trying them on after being on my feet for 8+ hours, so my feet are probably a little swollen as well as being sore. I’m going to wait a bit before I try them again.
I told myself that I wasn’t going to blog about my part time job here, mostly because it’s boring and also because it’s not in EVIL SCIENCE. However, there are some things I have to get off my chest:
1. items come shipped individually wrapped in plastic bags. We remove them from the bags, add a security tag, and hang them up. Each bag has written on it in big bold black letters “NOT A TOY.” Now, in my mind, any child young enough to think that a plastic bag might be a toy is not yet able to read. Therefore, this message must be directed at the parents.
if ESC ruled evolution: any parent dumb enough to give their young child a plastic bag to play with does not deserve to have their genes passed on to subsequent generations
2. If your friend gave you coupons to use, and one of those coupons require that you use the store credit card, just tell us that you don’t have the card. Don’t make me call the credit company and go through the whole process of trying to look up a nonexistent card that you swear you have at home, when it is TOTALLY OBVIOUS YOU DON’T HAVE THE CARD! You have other coupons, use those! We don’t care if someone gave them to you! You wasted 10 minutes of time, and made all the other people in line behind you wait. BITCH.
3. If you want to purchase something to match a piece you already own, BRING IN THAT PIECE! Don’t ask me to point you to every pink item in the store just for you to say “well, it’s not that pink exactly. It’s more of a softer pink. Isn’t that one more of a rose color? My pants are LIGHT SOFT PINK.” And if it WAS close to the right color, it wasn’t nice enough (in her mind) for her purposes. A GRADUATION. How fancy do you get for someone else’s graduation? No one is going to be looking at you, honey. So fuck you, lady. Look for your own damn clothes.
*pant pant pant* glad I got that out of my system. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to go soak my feet in epsom salts.
I wish your feet a pleasant recovery, and I thank you for the entertaining rant.
Oh my dearest, you are in Retail Hell, right?
I’ll start lighting candles immediately. Nice smelling ones.
Ugh… after a pleasant day like that, how wonderful that you came home to cute new shoes waiting for you.
You crack me up………….
I’m going to get extremely geeky here, but I’m listening to an audiobook where on a certain planet, everyone gets an implant and can’t have children until they petition the government to have the implant removed. While this is not a perfect system with many potential flaws, there are some days when it seems like a DAMN FINE IDEA.
Every day in retail is a new irritant, believe me, two years at Famous Barr cured me of shopping for YEARS!!!
And does it count when the plastic bag is a latex glove blown up? Cause 2/3’s of our pediatric patients’ parents blow up gloves and give them to their very young offspring. We can only warn them of the dangers of latex powder and balloon inhalation. Then we let evolution take over from there… Hope Ben Stein doesn’t catch us talking about that!
One night at Knitch I will tell you about my own very personal experience with children and parents and plastic bags.
You must be aquiver with anticipation.
Covert operatives are very, very careful about where they leave DNA