Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Working retail hours is just bundles of fun, but working retail Holiday hours...now there's a good time. So as the evening winds down (meaning only 4 more hours), foot traffic slows, and your need for food and caffeine sky rockets. Naturally, the food takes rank, and 2 of us decide to take a gander down the mall to find something to munch on. As we left, we ever so kindly offered to pick up a small, black coffee for a fellow co-worker. (Foreshadowing)
On our way back from munchies, we strolled in the little coffee shop as if we owned the place, and we were thrilled to see only one customer and her daughter in front of us in line. As we take our places, we continue our small talk, knowing all we needed was a dumb, little cup of coffee.
It was a few minutes before we noticed the non-existent line was not moving. As we look up, we key into what exactly is happening in front of us. I think I wish we hadn't. Mommy and Daughter Dearest in front of us were still ordering. Perhaps for a large group, you ask? NOPE. Just STILL trying to decide what Mother wanted to drink. As I began taking in the conversation between this woman and the 16 year-old behind the counter, it quickly became apparent that this small, black coffee had turned into a field trip to the circus that I never got my permission slip signed for.
Allow me to give you the Reader's Digest Version. (You're welcome.) She is wanting a hot, flavored tea. She is asking about every last detail that you never even knew could be asked. Finally, she asks for just a hot tea, and perhaps they could just put a shot of flavor in it. After asking individually for every flavor in the rainbow, we look up to find the flavors ourselves. If you want to get an idea of where said flavors were, take a moment and look up from your screen and focus your eyes on the CLOSEST THING TO YOUR FACE. So, low and behold, she decides on blueberry. The clerk nicely looks up and says, "Ok, well that is the only one that is actually just flavored blueberry, and there is no need for a shot of flavor." The woman replies, "Hmmm, like how strong is the blend?"
At this point, I wanted to "Tanya Harding" Nancy's ass to the ground and ask her what the hell she wanted, a BAR GRAPH?? Better yet, I hear they can convert tea blends over to the Richter Scale, because I'm sure then you would be able to understand it.
As if this story isn't ridiculous enough, this is where the "I SHIT YOU NOT!!" comes in. At this point her daughter is red faced and embarrassed, and even I can feel the lazor eyes radiating over my shoulder from the now 16 customers in line. This woman looks up at the clerk and says, "Oh, ya know what, Hun? Just gimmie an iced tea." I wish I could relay the tone of voice she used. It was not that of remorse or fluster, but instead she said it with great confidence in her choice. (As if iced tea were invented yesterday.)
I do want to thank this woman though, because a magical thing happened while we were waiting in line for seemingly 3 hours. The clock switched to the happy time at night when that little cup of black coffee goes from .96 cents, to a half-off grand total of .48 cents. But after all of the emotional damage and waste of my life, I would have rather paid 10 fold and been able to pour my small, black coffee into Nancy's tall, flavorless iced tea.
Monday, December 8, 2008
As I was trotting proudly out the front door, I heard them. They are everywhere this time of year. The bells are always the same, but the ringers...oh they come in many shapes and unfortunate sizes.
Whether it's the nice married couple trying to get more involved in their community, the creepy old man that half-way resembles Santa, or the 20-something who owes service to her community for getting drunk at 10 am before the football game and running around without a shirt on...Whatever the case may be, they are all standing in the middle of the mall or freezing their asses off outside of EVERY store serving the following purpose: Wearing a red apron and ringing a bell. I am fairly certain there is a month-long Salvation Army training program that one must attend to be eligible for such volunteer work, not to mention the vigorous wrist work-out video tape.
My problem with the fact that we are so consumed with what these people look like, who they are, and why in God's name they are there, is that it really is a charity. Those people really do want you to put some money in there shiny, swingy, red bucket. (Or so they are told at their intensive training seminar) So next time you hear the bells outside of the store, take a deep breath, sneak around creepy Santa-lookin'-boy, and slip a dollar in the magical fairy bucket. Not only can you chuckle and say "Well, I did my good deed for the day!" But you can also rest assured that if creep-o Santa pockets the money and runs, you will most likey see him there next year, serving time to his community.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
That being said, what I saw the other day was shocking and perhaps disturbing to some viewers.(intervention) An exuberant, "festive" couple gallivanted through the mall with enormous things on their head. Yes, Momma and Poppa "Festive" wore large felt antlers all day. Neat, huh? Perhaps they are the "wacky, zany" couple at all the Christmas parties I'm sure they get invited to, but at the mall...they just looked stupid.
Oh, but wait...the funzies didn't stop there. Also along for the ride were Grandma and baby Crazy Claus with, you guessed it, jolly Christmas garb atop their soft spots. This is what pushed it right over the line for me, and let me tell you why. This just turned their escapade from a humorous discovery of a couple pair of antlers (probably from one of last year's awesome Christmas parties), to a purchased for and planned event. Which means, they actually woke up one morning, rolled over in bed to one another, and said "Hey, do you want to wear antlers to the mall?". Then the other said, "Oh, why yes. In fact, let's not stop there. Let's get a pair for Mom and Young Johnny!" So they hopped in their Ford Focus and away they went. First, to purchase genuine Christmas Antlers from the local Party Place, then straight to the mall to be pointed and starred at for 4 and a half hours.
If that isn't Christmas Spirit, I'm not sure I know what is...
Vacuum living room and hallways.
Dust fan blades.
Clean bathrooms. (Toilets, tubs, etc.)
Get nails done.
Throw load of laundry in the wash.
Clean out fridge.
And no matter how wonderful that little list looks that night, it NEVER looks the same on your day off. My mentality changes and I get defensive with the list saying, "Umm, this is my day off. I don't have to do anything today!" At this point, the productivity and cleanliness get effortlessly washed down the drain with the dirty dish water that never was. Instead, the day that was to be filled with joy and organizing, goes a bit more like this...
Wake up too early when devil beam of sunshine blares through naked window with only mini blinds to stand in its way.
Kick covers off bed.
Attempt to vacuum.
Discover vacuum is clogged.
Make BIGGER mess.
Have sneezing attack; Blame it on dusty fan blades.
Try to relax and watch a movie. (give up when I can't find your favorite movie, or any that I would even settle on watching.)
Light Christmas Cookie scented Yankee Candle.
Clip toe nails.
Clean out fridge.
At least I can say I accomplished one thing from the original list. Who cares that I probably chose that particular item based solely on the fact that I got to eat afterward. Not to worry though, I have 2 days off next week. I'll have plenty of time to get everything done then...
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Waiting in line is a drag.
Dropping off kids, not terrible.
Picking up the kids, less than desirable.
The list goes on...
We are always finding ways to be more efficient and make things during the day happen faster. That being said, let me state for the record, you are NOT speeding ANYTHING up by talking to Chatty Cathy while like, omg shopping. I promise. (like, totally)
Clearly you are in my place of business for a reason, and that's all good and gravy. But, I do not respond well to waving, pointing, whispering, or the expectation that I can read your mind simply because you are on your cell phone. Please take a moment, terminate your meaningless conversation with your son's best friend's mother, and tell me how I can be of help to you. Until then, you are just a random person floating around the store having a conversation with, well, no one maybe.
Now the big pet peeve...Bluetooth Headsets. Yea, do I honestly need to say anymore? I am so happy that you have a trendy (dorky) looking way to talk to your "peeps", but to me you just look like you are from the loony end of the hospital, just out for the day, and talking to yourself.
BLAH. Happy Monday...
I'm not even going to ask who invented these things. I'm sure it's some tree hugging PTA mom who also attends every "Mommy-and-Me" class she can find in this city. She probably sees these things as "A loving bond between mother and child", I see them as creepy.
For those of you who are unaware of these demoralizing little gems, I provided an equally demoralizing photograph.
Yes, that's right. Thank God for that 3 feet of designer, rainbow nylon. Now there is zero chance that anything remotely bad could ever happen to little Demoralized Debbie. I wonder why Chanel and Dior haven't dipped into this clever market yet? I think it could really be huge for Spring of '09. I digress....
If you had not already noticed, I don't like these things because I think they are weird. Most mall employees don't like these things because we don't like hearing your child scream when he is jerked back to "home base". Lastly your kids don't like these things either!! If you are a dumb ass and wonder why, take 20 minutes and strap yourself to a dining room chair. I think you will promptly agree with my opinion after that. Please stop using a string of synthetic material to call your self a "safe parent". Put them in a stroller, hold their hand, or for the love of God, spend some of that holiday shopping money on a BABYSITTER.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
There are many other outfits that can be seen romping through department stores that make me want to hurt small children for no reason. The fact that these jolly holiday shoppers can loaf through their day at the mall in their WAY to skinny jeans with a toddler-sized shirt on is just plain offensive to those of us who go though the day with our eyes open. I understand we cannot all afford personal assistants, but when did mirrors get so expensive?
The Black Friday stampede plunged the Valley Stream outlet into chaos, knocking several employees to the ground and sending others scurrying atop vending machines to avoid the horde.
When the madness ended, 34-year-old Jdimytai Damour was dead and four shoppers, including a woman eight months pregnant, were injured.
Go right ahead and pat yourself on the back if you can admit that buying your XBOX, iPhone, Wii Fit, or My Little Pony Playset was worth hospitalizing a pregnant woman and killing a man. Congrats, and Happy Holidays to you.
In other news, items are still on sale at every store you walk into. They will be until Christmas. (I doubt they will even be cool in a year. Mazal Tov.)