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MAYBE I SHOULD HAVE A KID TOO :V
BECAUSE THEN I MIGHT GET TO LEAVE EARLY FROM WORK LIKE EVERYONE ELSE :VVVVV
I'm not bitter, no. I am, sincerely, very happy that I got to leave work at my scheduled time today. It was not a good day. And I need to learn how to say the three magic words: "not my problem." Apparently, three years of retail has drilled it in my head that I should never refuse a request no matter how asinine or how much it might inconvenience me. :/
I opened, and was set to go until five. Mike was on the schedule, but apparently, he wasn't working? So I was by myself and I didn't realize it. And there were a few carts FULL of junk that needed to go back on the shelves. Some of the junk I recognized from Thursday, so, what? Did people not put anything away last night?
I did it. I started running back and forth carts and carts of nonsense. Every time I was done with one, two more would pop up in its place (or one would just have more shit dumped on top of it). Four hours, I did this.
Around one-thirty, I was called back to my counter for the umpteenth time, undoubtedly to answer someone's dumbass question that had NOTHING TO DO WITH FRAMING. No, I was pleasantly mistaken, but only for a moment. I spent the next TWO HOURS with the customer ("two hours" is the obscenely short version of the story. I don't even know how that happened). And I'm really glad that she decided to run out to the ATM to get money to pay for her crap because two more seconds and I wouldn't have had a job anymore. I would have either punched her in the face or cursed her out.
After the entire order went through -- after the two hours of measuring and color-matching and picking out shit -- she decided she wanted to CHANGE part of it. It's a good thing it turned out to be more expensive, or she would have made me do it, too.
AND THIS WAS AFTER I WAS ASKED TO CLOSE. For some reason, half the scheduled people called out -- and one said she couldn't stay because her mother wanted her home to watch her own kid (I actually yelled at her for that) -- and Sandy's kids were left home by themselves. Rosie was trying to make Sandy go home, and asked me if I could stay. I would get to have Monday off completely instead, but.... I don't know why I agreed. Maybe it was to have the two consecutive days off.
Hey, read this if you don't want to be my friend anymore! Children annoy me. They're as loud and obnoxious and ignorant as adults, but the kicker is that people make excuses for them because THEY DON'T KNOW BETTER. Not true? How many times have you heard, "Aw, he/she's just a kid!" Parents make me uneasy because they're associated WITH children; I can't talk to them because there's never a conversation where THEIR LITTLE ANGELS aren't mentioned. People who like children but don't have any don't even fucking deserve my attention. I have better things to bullshit about than DEMONSPAWN BRATS. And you know what else, everyone? SHUT THE FUCK UP. YOUR KID IS NOT CUTE AND YOUR KID IS NOT SMART, ESPECIALLY IF IT'S YOURS. FUCKING DEAL WITH IT.
So now you're probably angry at me -- or at least mildly irked -- for my cruelty, but you know what? It's true. I hate kids. I'd hate them more than cats, but I'm allergic to cats (or rather, there's no test to prove that I'm not allergic to children). Also, you can't blame me, since I blanked this shit out, and put a warning! You just don't want to be my friend anymore, I see how it is. T^T
*ahem* Chances are I wouldn't see Phill anyway, so I don't know who I was trying to kid.
It's a good thing I remembered that I have to open tomorrow. A double and an open, LOL. No. So I agreed to stay until seven. Around a quarter to five, Sandy told me she'd found a sitter (when?) and that I could leave when I was supposed to. Score.
YET I WAS STILL CONCERNED ABOUT WHY I COULD LEAVE WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO. WTF IS WRONG WITH ME.
On top of that, the less-than-wonderful side of my family is visiting -- no one told me this was going to happen! -- and it doesn't look like it'll be a short visit, either.
I'm FUCKING STARVING (this is gross, don't read it: my mom's not the greatest cook in the world -- which is half the reason I don't know how to cook -- but apparently, my sister is worse. My mom's spaghetti is edible, if overcooked, but my sister's! I just looked in the pot of noodles and there is a WHITE GEL sitting on top of it! When I asked her what had CONGEALED upon the noodles, she casually answered, "Oh, that's just the water." WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T SHE DRAIN IT. AND WHY DID IT CONGEAL?!?! I wanna fucking throw UP. Ungross: my soda needs more Irish/Puerto Rican in it). The internet was out when I came home. My party is level 67 and they still can't kill shit!
Batting a fucking thousand, seriously.
I'm not bitter, no. I am, sincerely, very happy that I got to leave work at my scheduled time today. It was not a good day. And I need to learn how to say the three magic words: "not my problem." Apparently, three years of retail has drilled it in my head that I should never refuse a request no matter how asinine or how much it might inconvenience me. :/
I opened, and was set to go until five. Mike was on the schedule, but apparently, he wasn't working? So I was by myself and I didn't realize it. And there were a few carts FULL of junk that needed to go back on the shelves. Some of the junk I recognized from Thursday, so, what? Did people not put anything away last night?
I did it. I started running back and forth carts and carts of nonsense. Every time I was done with one, two more would pop up in its place (or one would just have more shit dumped on top of it). Four hours, I did this.
Around one-thirty, I was called back to my counter for the umpteenth time, undoubtedly to answer someone's dumbass question that had NOTHING TO DO WITH FRAMING. No, I was pleasantly mistaken, but only for a moment. I spent the next TWO HOURS with the customer ("two hours" is the obscenely short version of the story. I don't even know how that happened). And I'm really glad that she decided to run out to the ATM to get money to pay for her crap because two more seconds and I wouldn't have had a job anymore. I would have either punched her in the face or cursed her out.
After the entire order went through -- after the two hours of measuring and color-matching and picking out shit -- she decided she wanted to CHANGE part of it. It's a good thing it turned out to be more expensive, or she would have made me do it, too.
AND THIS WAS AFTER I WAS ASKED TO CLOSE. For some reason, half the scheduled people called out -- and one said she couldn't stay because her mother wanted her home to watch her own kid (I actually yelled at her for that) -- and Sandy's kids were left home by themselves. Rosie was trying to make Sandy go home, and asked me if I could stay. I would get to have Monday off completely instead, but.... I don't know why I agreed. Maybe it was to have the two consecutive days off.
Hey, read this if you don't want to be my friend anymore! Children annoy me. They're as loud and obnoxious and ignorant as adults, but the kicker is that people make excuses for them because THEY DON'T KNOW BETTER. Not true? How many times have you heard, "Aw, he/she's just a kid!" Parents make me uneasy because they're associated WITH children; I can't talk to them because there's never a conversation where THEIR LITTLE ANGELS aren't mentioned. People who like children but don't have any don't even fucking deserve my attention. I have better things to bullshit about than DEMONSPAWN BRATS. And you know what else, everyone? SHUT THE FUCK UP. YOUR KID IS NOT CUTE AND YOUR KID IS NOT SMART, ESPECIALLY IF IT'S YOURS. FUCKING DEAL WITH IT.
So now you're probably angry at me -- or at least mildly irked -- for my cruelty, but you know what? It's true. I hate kids. I'd hate them more than cats, but I'm allergic to cats (or rather, there's no test to prove that I'm not allergic to children). Also, you can't blame me, since I blanked this shit out, and put a warning! You just don't want to be my friend anymore, I see how it is. T^T
*ahem* Chances are I wouldn't see Phill anyway, so I don't know who I was trying to kid.
It's a good thing I remembered that I have to open tomorrow. A double and an open, LOL. No. So I agreed to stay until seven. Around a quarter to five, Sandy told me she'd found a sitter (when?) and that I could leave when I was supposed to. Score.
YET I WAS STILL CONCERNED ABOUT WHY I COULD LEAVE WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO. WTF IS WRONG WITH ME.
On top of that, the less-than-wonderful side of my family is visiting -- no one told me this was going to happen! -- and it doesn't look like it'll be a short visit, either.
I'm FUCKING STARVING (this is gross, don't read it: my mom's not the greatest cook in the world -- which is half the reason I don't know how to cook -- but apparently, my sister is worse. My mom's spaghetti is edible, if overcooked, but my sister's! I just looked in the pot of noodles and there is a WHITE GEL sitting on top of it! When I asked her what had CONGEALED upon the noodles, she casually answered, "Oh, that's just the water." WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T SHE DRAIN IT. AND WHY DID IT CONGEAL?!?! I wanna fucking throw UP. Ungross: my soda needs more Irish/Puerto Rican in it). The internet was out when I came home. My party is level 67 and they still can't kill shit!
Batting a fucking thousand, seriously.
no subject
Okay, here's the story, and I'm gonna try to keep it as short as possible (because I have to go to work soon). She had these two prints that she wanted re-framed because the formica on her old frames was chipping. No problem, we can pick out frames, and she can get them to fit her old matting and glass, etc. Oh, but it was too expensive. Okay, well, she could get a frame off the floor, and then we could fit the matting to that one. How big would the frame be? I don't know, because I don't know how big the print is (it's still in the frame). Can't I open it? Well, of course, but if she decided to buy nothing, it would have been more cumbersome to carry all those pieces home, especially the glass, which I didn't know was plexi.
BUT I WOUND UP TAKING IT APART ANYWAY and the staples in the frame were being annoying and they didn't want to come out and I spent a good five minutes just coaxing them. So the print was about 18x24, which is a common size, so I suggested the 18x24 frame, and she picked TWO out. Of course, they were on the highest shelf, and *I* had to get them, which meant I had to first look for a ladder to get them. And then when I brought them over she was like "No, not these."
She was wrong; it was those. By then, I was convinced that she was just one of those disagreeable people, and that it was going to be a very LONG day.
So it looked like it fit in the frame, and she was happy. Next was the matter of picking out matting, and this is where I'm very appreciative of your and the rest of the Pratt kiddies' frienship! Her original matting was a patterned gray, and the print was of three black women in... uh... various shades of black. XD Like you, me, and someone who blends into the night. XD So I decided to go with a grayish sort of orange (trust, it worked), but there were a few options I gave because nothing I found immediately worked *exactly* right. And then she sat there picking and choosing.
OH I should probably mention she had two friends with her. They undoubtedly extended this little hen party very much past its expected life span. So they were all excited over the stupid mats.
Eventually, I found the right one, and we decided to go with it. And that was just ONE PRINT. One print that she just needed matting for. She needed a frame for the second, but the price became a big deal because the frame was expensive and glass is ALWAYS expensive and the print was bigger than the other but not a common size and BLAH BLAH BLAH FUCKING BLAH. In the end, she wound up buying the frame but KEEPING HER OLD JUNKY PLEXIGLASS.
And when all this shit comes in, we have to put it together for her. :/ I know there are good people from the area, but let me summarize thusly: I wasn't at all surprised when she gave me her address and told me she was from the Bronx. :////
Meanwhile, about five other customers stopped by to pick up their artwork, and since I was the only one in the frame shop, I had to interrupt and help them (not that it took very long). And then other people came over asking me other ridiculous questions -- some that had to do with framing, some that didn't (which always pisses me the fuck off), and some not in English -- just eating up more time. Three o'clock came and went and my relief was supposed to show up -- I was doubly cranky because I hadn't eaten! -- but when she did, I stopped what I was doing and gave her a hug. Four different people started attacking me with questions all at once, while I'm TRYING to understand what this stupid woman wants done with her ugly prints. So I was like "Help him. Help him. Help her." to poor Sandy every time she finished with someone. IT WAS AWFUL.
AND THEN I WAS ASKED TO STAY UNTIL CLOSING BY MYSELF AND THEN I WENT IN THE BACK ROOM AND CRIED BECAUSE I CAN'T MULTITASK AND I WISH SOMEONE WOULD FIGURE THAT OUT ALREADY. :D
...This comment is probably way too long.