It’s A Broom, Not Rocket Science


So tonight I had one of those moments that reminds me that I’m really kind of not a great person.  I took the push broom out to my co-worker and told her what sections she needed to sweep and which sections I would sweep.  She looked at me uncertainly, looked at the broom, then back at me before saying, “I’ve never used one of these before.”  My first instinct was to say, “Dude, it’s a broom, not rocket science.  Seriously?”  But then I mentally scolded myself for being snarky, and just told her to push the broom around and that there wasn’t much more to it than that.  See?  I am pretty much a big ol’ jerk.  Why couldn’t I just be all understanding and kind and such without having to force myself?  I am truly just not very good at the whole ‘people’ thing.  When a customer asks me a question that strikes me as unforgivably ludicrous, my first instinct is to snark at them for their stupidity.  It is only through acts of monumental self-restraint that I am able to stop myself from saying the things I am thinking.  No one is safe from my snarkiness.  I had a boss once who kept putting a sign up in our break room about cleaning out the fridge or some such thing, only she insisted on spelling it frig.  It drove me bat-shit.  I kept surreptitiously correcting the signs, which she would then take down in order to put up a new sign with the stupid frig spelling.  It’s like people just want to drive me crazy.  Siiiigh.

Okay folks, I am, once again, going to snark about some of the delights of working retail.  As I have mentioned before, mopping sucks.  I have never known anyone who found it even remotely enjoyable to mop the floors at work.  It’s a shitty job.  And then there are those despicable douche-bag customers that insist on traipsing through areas that have just been mopped.  Fine, whatever.  However, the people I truly despise, are those complete shitheads that not only walk through the freshly mopped areas, they have to do it over and over and over again.  They even watch you mop up after them, removing their muddy footprints, then they walk right through the same exact areas.  3 times.  The couple tonight did this 3 frickin’ times.  I wanted to punch them right in the throat.  And who the hell thinks it is acceptable to clean out their car and through the bag of nasty crap next to our building?  Who thinks it’s acceptable to tear open numerous packages and leave the contents scattered all over the damn place?  Seriously, what the hell is wrong with people??

Daily randomosity:  So looking forward to 2 days off.  So not looking forward to 4 days of no ibuprofen, which means 4 days of misery, more or less.  We had customers checking out until, like, 5 or 10 minutes after we closed tonight.  They were very nice ladies but damn people, what the hell?  Wow, this episode of Lockup just showed two dudes beating the tar out of each other because one of them was apparently doing the inmate equivalent of the ‘I’m not touching your food’ game.  Like, this dude was annoying the other dude by almost touching his food tray or something like that.  Oh boy, now they’re hollering at each other from their (more or less) time-out cells.  Just wow.  Face tattoos–just say no y’all.  Geesh this guy is freaky.  He has a bunch of neck and face tattoos, including one under each eye, one all along his hair line, one between his eyes, etc etc etc.  And he has, like, weird teeth that, honest to God, look like they are brass or some shit.  Aaaaand he just said that beating the crap out of people gets him all, well, you know, excited.  Yeah…he seems like the kind of fella you would cross the street to avoid.  Hell, I’d cross town to avoid him!  I hope Elise likes her belated bday present/dorm warming gift.  Why hasn’t science made a Dodo bird yet?  They made a clone of a sheep, why haven’t they dug up some Dodo bird DNA and made a Dodo?  It’d be cool to have your very own Dodo bird.  I am soooo tired and sore and such.  

My thoughts exactly...

My thoughts exactly…




2 thoughts on “It’s A Broom, Not Rocket Science

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