I consider myself a bit of a fan of makeup and fussy dresses. I prefer to overdress and gravitate heavily towards vintage and pin-up style clothing. I generally don’t leave the house without a full face of makeup complete with winged eyeliner, foundation, contouring, blush, […]
Working in the customer service industry anywhere is pretty much a shitastic experience no matter where you happen to be. Working in customer service in a state where cannibalism, public masturbation and bestiality make the news so frequently you aren’t phased is a whole new Level.
You learn things, horrible things, that make you lose a degree of faith in society. You also learn that you are not alone because the people who are working next to you are making the same “da fuq?!” face that you are.
I consider myself lucky because I can am not easily identifiable as a store associate. I have somewhere to run when 350 lbs of batshit crazy come barreling down on me, wearing snake skin hot pants, a tube top and Lucite heels. My fellow associates are not so lucky. Uniforms are designed to make you a moving target for the unwashed masses to more easily unleash their unholy absurdity.
We see all types of people, some are the trophy wives, others belong on People of Walmart, and occasionally there are normal folk. I never will understand how some women can wake up in the morning and decide “I am going to buy a bedroom set!” and then go into their closet and pull out 6 inch stiletto heels, a mini skirt, and some type of transparent top. At some point, they were told that wearing only a bra under a shirt that has the same coverage and cellophane was a good idea. Slut, I can see your horrible tit job, put that shit away. This isn’t south beach, your husband didn’t pay your surgeon enough, and its Noon on a Tuesday. If you want to wear your ho-ass Jimmy Choo knockoffs, don’t come to a place where you need to lug your own shit. Ain’t nobody got time to help your dumb ass.
On the other end of the spectrum, I am baffled by the People of Walmart that stop in. They wake up, decide to get a new rug to spruce of the trailer and just walk on in. No need to think about under garments when you can just tuck your udders into your yoga pants and slide those corn chip toes into a pair of crocs.
I will admit to the guilty pleasure of people watching. Watching those random people has lead to a deep appreciation for contraceptives. There is nothing like having a father complain about how someone spoke to his child, as the child is throwing a fit of historic proportions. You sir, make my uterus want to repel down my leg, round house kick you in the dick, and run screaming down the hall way.
This is the same type of person who wants to argue with me 45 min after we have closed. The conversation goes as follows:
Cust. “But I just need these 6 more things…”
Me. “I am sorry but we are closed”
Cust “You are being a bitch, I have been looking for this thing for like 10 min! I can’t find it anywhere!”
Me. ” that item is out of stock., we closed 45 min ago. You can come back tomorrow when we open”
Cust ” What the fuck is your problem, I have a REAL JOB that I have to go to in the morning, I can’t come back then!”
Me. “That’s unfortunate, but we are still out of stock.. and we have now been closed for an hour” (while in my head I am saying) “THIS IS MY REAL JOB CUNT! AND I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! SO GET THE FUCK OUT!”
My tips for a better shopping experience:
1. don’t be a dick.
2. wear clothes, real ones that cover your bits. with real shoes. No one gets paid enough to help you carry your shit, and we sure as hell don’t get paid enough to see the boil that is growing on your back.
3. put the fear of death in your child. Or put them on a leash. either way, don’t let them be a dick.
4. don’t expect to buy a bunch of shit 4 min before a stores closes and then get mad when they close. its rude.
5. always have a security lock on your cell phone. When it gets turned in, someone will look through it trying to identify an owner to return it to. Most people take pictures of themselves so we check to verify ownership. If you like to take pictures of your dick. someone is going to laugh at it. probably me.