I would like to find the person or persons responsible for turning the newly-remodeled men's bathroom (due to said remodeling, the men's has been temporarily turned into a unisex bathroom, complete with locking door for privacy - the same thing was done with the women's when that was still available and the men's bathroom was being redone) into a squalid teeming mass of disgusting repulsive filth.
Then I would like to forcibly cram all the NASTY refuse (which included a freshly bloodied tampon and a turdpile in one bowl that someone had so thoughtfully neglected to flush) down that person's or persons' throat(s) and make them die choking on it.
Following that, I will drink a fresh cold strawberry margarita. Because nothing says "I PWN j00 ALL" like an asskicking and a victory margarita.
--
Two (dozen) bitchslaps down going out to 1) the smartass who thought it was funny to crack some stupid joke at me ("I'd like to report a 'lost and found'" - "Ok" - "I found the 25 lbs she lost" (points at magazine cover announcing some dumbo star's weight loss) - "...." ) when it was patently obvious I was NOT feeling well and in a lot of pain (goddamn 8+ hour shift on the feet) and generally wishing I could run amok in my store with a fully functioning badassed chainsaw -
And, 2) to the bitch who whined about her precious $10 coupon (GOD HOW I HATE THESE @#%#@!$^%#!$%!#$%ING 10-DOLLAR COUPONS WITH THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND SUNS) when the damn thing CLEARLY said on it you have to spend $50 or more, NOT counting alcohol, tobacco, lottery tickets, and the like, and La Bitchella only had $47. What do we do? Go and whine to any one of our spineless managers, they'll give you what you want (while stomping on us lowly cashier types who aren't special enough to have the keys and override codes, of course)!
I hate you people so bad. Please go and play golf during a Cat 5 hurricane, kthnxbai.
--
This one goes out to a cow-irker: Sweetie, if you think you're going to ban us from keeping our water bottles at the registers (said bottles are kept away from the actual register itself), you've got another thought coming. I dehydrate easily. If I don't do the drinking/occasional snacking thing (because your fellow manager types are just SO good about giving us our scheduled breaks /sarcasm), I stop doing the standing and talking thing. Got it?
--
Actually, while I'm thinking of it, here's two words for management and corporate who are helping to make life just a little more miserable each day. Hint: They rhyme with "puck" and "dew"!
Thus goeth my bitchery for this evening. We now return you to your regularly scheduled customer sucktardery.
Then I would like to forcibly cram all the NASTY refuse (which included a freshly bloodied tampon and a turdpile in one bowl that someone had so thoughtfully neglected to flush) down that person's or persons' throat(s) and make them die choking on it.
Following that, I will drink a fresh cold strawberry margarita. Because nothing says "I PWN j00 ALL" like an asskicking and a victory margarita.
--
Two (dozen) bitchslaps down going out to 1) the smartass who thought it was funny to crack some stupid joke at me ("I'd like to report a 'lost and found'" - "Ok" - "I found the 25 lbs she lost" (points at magazine cover announcing some dumbo star's weight loss) - "...." ) when it was patently obvious I was NOT feeling well and in a lot of pain (goddamn 8+ hour shift on the feet) and generally wishing I could run amok in my store with a fully functioning badassed chainsaw -
And, 2) to the bitch who whined about her precious $10 coupon (GOD HOW I HATE THESE @#%#@!$^%#!$%!#$%ING 10-DOLLAR COUPONS WITH THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND SUNS) when the damn thing CLEARLY said on it you have to spend $50 or more, NOT counting alcohol, tobacco, lottery tickets, and the like, and La Bitchella only had $47. What do we do? Go and whine to any one of our spineless managers, they'll give you what you want (while stomping on us lowly cashier types who aren't special enough to have the keys and override codes, of course)!
I hate you people so bad. Please go and play golf during a Cat 5 hurricane, kthnxbai.
--
This one goes out to a cow-irker: Sweetie, if you think you're going to ban us from keeping our water bottles at the registers (said bottles are kept away from the actual register itself), you've got another thought coming. I dehydrate easily. If I don't do the drinking/occasional snacking thing (because your fellow manager types are just SO good about giving us our scheduled breaks /sarcasm), I stop doing the standing and talking thing. Got it?
--
Actually, while I'm thinking of it, here's two words for management and corporate who are helping to make life just a little more miserable each day. Hint: They rhyme with "puck" and "dew"!
Thus goeth my bitchery for this evening. We now return you to your regularly scheduled customer sucktardery.
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