Thursday, September 16, 2010

That's not the right thing to do.

This week seems to have lasted eons.  It's only Wednesday, in case you were wondering.  All day long I thought it was Friday.  Then I would correct myself and say it was Thursday.  When I finally realized it was Wednesday I thought about googling the most efficient way to off myself.  Speaking of, I had to work my stupid second job this evening.  I know I said I was going to stick it out for a month.  But I lied.  I can't stand it.  I hate every second of it.  It's boring and apparently weirdos hang out in bookstores.  Like the dude the was wearing a kilt and walking around juggling his family jewels.  {I'm going to add this to the list of why cajones creep me out}  Then there are the 3 or 4 old delusional old dudes that play some weird game with marbles.  These guys were clearly losers in highschool.  They wear acid washed, pleated jeans without belts.  And they tuck their shirts into these creepy ass jeans.  One was wearing a shirt that had some nerd joke on it and he thought he was smoking hot.  His name is Jeffrey.  I know this because my stupid second job makes me ask people their names.  Jeffrey has a velcro wallet.  Jeffrey wears glasses with the wrong prescription and likes to try to look UNDERNEATH the rims.  Jeffrey isn't like the other fellas in the group.  He clearly just joined because they other dudes have to explain the game to him.  I've tuned these conversations out because I can literally feel myself becoming boring just listening to them.  Anyway, Jeffrey likes to talk.  A lot.  He likes to talk about things I don't know about and things I really and truly don't give a fuck about.  Today, while Jeffrey was taking a dollar out of his sweeeet velcro wallet he started telling me about the living wage in California.  Cool, Jeffrey.  Then he complains about the price of a shot of espresso.  And asks me if there is anything I can do about it.  "No, Jeffrey, there is nothing I can do about it," I tell him.  He laughs maniacally at this.  And I go hide in the back until he disappears.

Today I decided I'm going to quit.  And I flip-flopped back and forth for most of the evening about whether I would actually go through with it.  I don't need a second job. I don't need the money.  I liked the idea of it because I would be working in a bookstore and I could read books and I thought there would be ample eye candy. Wrong.  Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrooooong.  Ok, so there are the hot dads that come in but they are few and far between.  And I don't get to read.  And I work with a bunch of fuddy-duddies.  My decision to quit was practically made for me tonight.  And I will tell you why.  We have to wear these head sets and everyone can/does talk on them.  I work with a lot of people that think they are HIGH-larious.  They aren't.  This one old lady was talking about being too personal with customers and how you need to get them in and get them out.  "That's what she said" is/was the only thing I'd said over these godforsaken head sets and no one appreciated it.  Anyone who can't appreciate the art of a well timed "that's what she said joke" is dead to me.

On a lighter note, I went and saw my father before I went into work this evening.  He told me he would work on getting me some tickets to both the UT/Memphis game AND tickets to see the Colts play.  YESSSSSSAAAAA.  Back to the point:  I swear I think he does drugs.  Ricky-poo was asking me how to do something on this ipod (both of my parents are totally technologically challenged) so, naturally, I told him to google it.  His face dropped and he looked like I just punched him in the throat and he said "Shannon, that's not the right thing to do."  Then he turned around and walked away.  I'm still really confused what he meant by this.  Was he disappointed by my answer?  Surely not because "google it" is my answer to 9 out of every 10 questions.  Even if I know the answer I still will tell you to google it.

Ok.  Time for bed.  Tomorrow's Thursday.  Raise the roof.  Get it.

1 comment:

Preppy Pink Crocodile said...

Oh that bookstore story is hilarious!