The 98% humorous musings of M. Lizabeth Currain

Tag: idiots

Retail Idiot

So, yesterday after my class got out, I decided it was time that I finally bite the bullet and buy some new bras. Ugh, bra shopping is the worst. It’s like no bra is the same and you have to try on fifty thousand, to find one that fits. Bra shopping is a less than pleasant experience, to say the least. I decided not to go to Victoria’s Secret this time because it’s always so crowded and their bras fit weird. For a store that a majority of American women shop at, their bras are not really designed for the average American body type. Which is unfortunate, because their bras are really cute.

These guys deserve cute bras too!

Anyways, I decided to drag my ass to Lane Bryant–even though the store depresses me. It reminds me of when I was much, much fatter and thought that the stuff they sold was cute. I think the problem with “plus size” clothing is that there only seems to be two types of it available. Middle-aged work wear and club wear.  At least that’s how it all looks to me. It’s not really my style. Now I’m less fat, and capitalizing on all the over-sized shirts that are being sold in “regular” stores. I’m getting off-topic. I went to Lane Bryant, ’cause at least their bras come in more colors than beige, black, and white gray (which are the colors I ended up buying. The other colors and prints they had were kind of ugly).

Fifity hours later, I emerged triumphant from the fitting room and headed towards the cashier. I was waiting in line for what felt like FOREVER, because for some reason people can’t ever make decisions about what they are buying before they get to the register. Eventually, I got to pay and then I was outta there. Since Macy’s was near by, I decided to stop in, because I like torturing myself. There’s never really anything good in there and it’s always a mess. I basically walked in one door and out one the other side. Funny thing was, I set the off the sensors at Macy’s on my way in and on my way out. I always stop when I set it off,

Get it?! haha!

even though I know I didn’t steal anything. The security guard didn’t even want to stop me, he just sort of looked at me and was all, “Do you have anything from Macy’s in your bag?” and I said “No” and that was that. So for all you shoplifters out there–it seems as though stealing from Macy’s would be pretty easy.

When I got outside, I looked in my bag and, I saw a security tag on not one of my items…but ALL THREE. Seriously? I would have been less irritated if it had only been one, but all of them? Give me a break. I end up going back to Lane Bryant, where, I guess, their security sensors at the door don’t work very well because they didn’t go off when I had walked out the first time or when I walked back in. I got the tags taken off and that was that.

Now, I try to be understanding to people who work in retail, because hey, I’ve been there. I worked one of the shittiest retail jobs for 2 and a half years, and probably would still be working there if I hadn’t quit to live off of student loans while in grad school. I worked other retail jobs briefly, I get it, it sucks, a lot. You don’t want to be there, the majority of the people you interact with are annoying, the pay isn’t that good, the hours are bad, I understand. That’s why I always try to be nice when I buy something–I try to make up for shitty customers that they might have had.

WHAT MY POINT IS, is that, if you are going to be working in retail for the rest of your life, which clearly you are, you might as well try to be good at it. I mean, you work in a clothing store where 100% of the items have security tags on them! It should be a natural reaction to look for them and take them off! Again, mistakes happen, I get it. I really do. But a mistake would have been one security tag. Not all three. I don’t see that girl going anywhere outside of retail, which is why she might want to start getting good at working behind a cash register. When I worked in the hellhole that is retail, I could at least do my job! In fact, I was way better at my job than I should have been for how much I was getting paid. Get with the fucking program already. It’s retail, it’s not rocket science. I can’t be the only person that feels this way. I mean, you might as well be good at your job while you’re working there right? Or am I completely alone on this?

Either way, my boobs look fantastic.

My So-called Menses

I don’t know how many of my dear readers are female, but if there is one out there, then this will at least be relatable to one person, and that’s all that really matters. Touching one life at a time.

I’m just going to assume if you are a female, that at one time or another, someone you know (or don’t know) has blamed your “attitude” on your (pre)menstrual cycle. I, for one, am bothered by this.

Here’s a clip from “The Office” as an example. You can watch the whole clip on Hulu.com

This might be a little bit of a bad example, because it’s honestly one of the funniest moments on “The Office”; and sweetest! But you understand where I am going with this? Because a woman is crying, she automatically has to be on her period?

Most of the time, at least in my case, the perpetrators are other women. Rarely has a male’s reaction to my attitude been, “you on the rag or something?” Usually they just want me fired (true story)! I feel like women commenting on another woman’s menstrual cycle falls into one of two categories: trying to relate or trying to berate. OH SHIT! I JUST RHYMED! HOLLA!

::ahem:: Both of my examples come from work (of course) which I find both odd and disrespectful. Maybe it’s how I was raised, or maybe I’m just not an idiot, but when I’m at the grocery store and the girl at the checkout is angry, yet again, (maybe it’s a New York thing? I have yet to go to a grocery story where the girls at the check out are in a good mood) I don’t proceed to ask them if they are PMSing and if they would like a Premysn.

So in the first instance, I was at work, at the register, trying to get through a line of people, filling out furniture contracts, answering people’s inane questions about what’s on sale, even though there are a million signs, and some jackson avenue is playing one of the pianos. And we all know how I feel about people playing the piano. I ask one of my coworkers if they can ask the person to stop playing the piano, because I can’t concentrate on what I am trying to do. Then this Chatty Cathy in line starts running her mouth asking why I don’t like the people playing the piano.  I try to explain to her that between the (god awful) music we have playing in the store, the questions I have to answer while I’m trying to ring people up, and someone who thinks they are Beethoven in the back, it’s very hard for me to concentrate on being 100% accurate on the register. I know! Taking my job somewhat seriously?! How dare I!! She then proceeds to ask me, in a somewhat “woman to woman” tone: “Are you sure it’s not just PMS?”


ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Because I want to be able to concentrate on what I am doing, without the added annoyance of  this:

I am suddenly and most definitely PMSing? Also, how is that an appropriate thing to say to someone you don’t know, at their job?I think it was slightly more annoying because of her tone; like she was she was giving me a verbal “nudge, nudge, wink, wink” like we had a secret in common. Listen lady, I don’t know you, stop trying to be all up in my business. Also, she seemed close to retiring to Shady Pines, so I am doubtful she even remembers what PMS is.

On the berating front of this equation, I have this scenario to offer: Again, I am at the register, ringing people up, trying to stay calm while I have a line that is wrapping around the counter; because we were having a huge sale going on; when my line comes to a stand-still. A woman is at the register, UNDECIDED. There is nothing that irks me more, than working behind the register, trying to keep a line moving, and having someone mess up the flow of things. I like people to be prepared, and already know what they want–I really don’t think that I am asking a lot of them. So she has about five items and is trying to decided which one to give up. So she decides to get rid of one that was $10 and keep the one that was $5. Meanwhile, the line is building and my blood pressure is rising and I am having a hard time refraining from yelling at her to hurry it up. So after I finish ringing her up, she decides that she wants the shirt she put back, instead of the one she kept. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but she was already working my last nerve, and plus, I have to cancel everything out and re-ring it, because I am working with a register that looks like this:

Pretty intense and pretty true to life.

So of course when I am finished re-ringing it, her total ends up being more than it was the first time, because the shirt she put back was less expensive than the one she decided to take. Not really rocket science. Here is a play-by-play of what happened next. She is going to be referred to henceforth as “scrubs” because that’s what she was wearing. Also, anything that I said was usually accompanied by a sigh, an eye roll, and an abrupt tone of voice that I save for people I am officially over. One more thing, if what Scrubs is saying is grammatically incorrect, it is intended. I’m all about realness.

Scrubs: Why is it more now?

Me: Because the shirt you put back was $5 and the one you got was $10. ::disgruntled sigh::

I tossed her stuff in a plastic bag because I only fold things for people who don’t irritate me. I started ringing up the next person.

Scrubs: (She started getting high and mighty; you could hear it in her voice) Can I have paper bag? ( I handed her the paper bag) You just toss my stuff in bag like it’s garbage. I paying customer too. You have attitude problem.

So then, some random guy comes up from the basement and she looks at him:

Scrubs: Why aren’t you at register? The men here are so much nicer. All the women here have problem!

At this point, if I hadn’t of said anything, I think my head would have exploded. I also want to commend myself on the fact that I was able to keep ringing people up while in the middle of my outburst against this woman.

Me: (looking right at her) YEAAAAAH, WE ALL GOT PROBLEMS DON’T WE!

Scrubs: You have a attitude problem. I don’t know what your problem is!

Me: I’ll tell you what my problem is. My problem is you.

Scrubs: You need fix your attitude.

Me: It will be once you walk out that door.

Scrubs: You have problem. You must be on period!

What was mildly entertaining about this exchange, was that I was being very pleasant to everyone else that I was ringing up, in the midst of my argument with this woman. Also, when she said the word “period” one of my male supervisors was walking by and got this really confused and grossed out look on his face.

So she finally decides to leave and on her way out she is stopping random male employees/volunteers near the door to tell them how nice they are. So I shouted, “HAVE A NICE DAY!”.

I am sorry, but I think a woman blaming another woman’s disposition on her period is a woman-on-woman crime. It only perpetuates the ancient stereotype of women being raging beasts during their “time of the month”. That’s not something we should be encouraging. I think it partly has to do with the caliber of people that I am dealing with. None of them are emotionally or mentally capable of realizing that my attitude is proportional to their stupidity. It has nothing to do with the fact that I may or may not be menstruating. It’s hard for them to accept. They want to blame my uterus for the poor customer service they are receiving. I take full responsibility for whatever level of customer service I am doling out, PMS has nothing to do with it–I hate you whether I am bleeding or not. Simple as that.

The lesson: My uterus is not to be trifled with.

It’s the little things

At work today, I had the wonderful task of working behind our donations counter, which also serves as our bag check area. I really don’t like working there. Mostly because people donate garbage and I have to sort through it. They are also liars when they are filling out their donor forms for their taxes. Five used bras, a torn book, and a dirty plate do not equal: Five Designer tops, autographed Stephen King Novel (Hardcover), and Tiffany’s Vase; all to be valued at $1800. Assholes. They are all assholes. I hope they get audited. I also don’t like working donations/bag check because I hate having to making people check their bags. Sometimes I don’t want to touch their grimy personal belongings. It’s bad enough I’m sorting through trash, but now I have to guard someone’s dog carrier that has no dog, but a syringe (true story).

However, the main reason I don’t like working donations/bag check is because when someone comes over to the counter with an item I always have to ask, “Checking your bag? Or is it a donation?” Because the fury that would come down on me if I donated their tattered bath and body works bag with a week old newspaper and VHS copy of Kiss Me Guido (sort of true story, details have been changed) is not worth it, trust me. So, I would say that 95% of the time that I ask this question, “Bag check or donation”, I get the response: “Yes”.  I hope the people that are reading this blog, are the kind of people that see something wrong with that answer. They are two. separate. questions. Saying “yes” to both of them, doesn’t specify to me, the person who is working this shit job, what you want me to do with your g.d. items. You either want to donate them, or you want to check them, so I can guard them with my life. All I’m asking is for a little specification, which really isn’t asking all that much. It would take them literally almost no effort at all to say, “Yes, donations” or “Yes, bag check”. NO EFFORT.

I think this is somewhat similar to the the “Paper or Plastic” post, but I wouldn’t need to reiterate this problem, if people weren’t such morons. The assistant manager was at donations a few minutes after this whole ordeal happened for the millionth time, and I brought it up and she said, “You let the little things get to you.”  I don’t. This is not a little thing. This is a major problem facing America; the world, right now. People have stopped f’ing listening. You ask two different questions and they just say “Yes.” The people that I deal with on a daily basis are incredible idiots. INCREDIBLE. “This tag says, ‘not for sale’, does that mean that it’s not for sale?” Really? “It says furniture is 25% off, does that include clothes?” Really? I am not even exaggerating. These stop being little things when it happens every day, countless times a day. It turns in to one giant problem that is not going to be resolved unless these people magically stop being idiots. Which I doubt. Because the world doesn’t work like that. 

I am counting the days until I blow that popsicle stand! Only 3 months left!

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