I try not to talk about work too much on this thing. When I get home from a trying day--which is most all of them--the last thing I want to talk about is work. But there are some real characters out there that I just have to bring to everyone's attention.
Let's recap on what exactly it is that I do. I sell coats to dipshits. The end.
Sure, I've got to put up with a boatload of totally unnecessary micro-managing and bullshitting just to keep the corporate jackweeds off my back--but apparently that's not too uncommon.
Let's get back to the dipshits.
Now, if you've ever worked a job in the service industry--a job where they really emphasize the term "customer service", then you may get my drift on this bit. If not, please take note so you don't fall into this category of dipshitness.
I'll start with a fairly minor one. This happened today.
Loud, annoying phone-talking guy decides to walk into the store while still on his incredibly important and loud phone call. I make it a point to greet everyone who enters the store while on their phones just so they have to acknowledge me for one second during their cellular conversation. Sometimes it takes more than one greeting to get a reaction, but it's worth the effort because I get satisfaction from interrupting them. Loud, annoying phone-talking guy walks right up to me, puts his index finger out, as to say "Just a sec, chief.". I am in a not-so great mood to begin with--mainly because I hate my job--so I give him a "go to hell" scowl that was more genuine than he, or anyone could have known. He finishes his conversation with an "I'll have to pass this time, big guy, but maybe we can---blah blah blah (he started talking in frat-boy golf lingo that I don't understand).
This champion finally ends his cell phone conversation that he obviously wanted everyone within earshot--and then some--to hear, walks up uncomfortably close to me, and states, "Let's do some shoppin'!" My scowl increases to where no man in his right mind would think that I am even minutely happy at this point. While he stands there smiling, I stand with a look that all but screams, "Are you fucking kidding me? I don't get paid near enough to deal with fucktards like you." That's exactly what my look said...and then my left eye started twitching.
After I stand there, in dipshit-shock, he says, "What's your name?" Then he looks at my nametag ( I hate...once again, I hate...wearing a nametag) "Matt? Craig. I need to buy a casual, but cool jacket that I can wear if I want to learn to ski, but that also looks good with a suit, like if I get off work and meet some clients over at Elway's. Also something that I can run or ride my bike at night while it's snowing. I just moved here from Cali, lost 40lbs since February, and I'm out shopping like a chick!"
No shit. Nice job, Craig. Way to suck at living.
This brings to mind the man-shoppers that I have come in the store. Now, this is not intended to poke fun at gay dudes--that would not be as big of a deal. But I have a substantial amount of seemingly heterosexual men that enjoy spending a Saturday afternoon not playing basketball together...not drinking beer together...not watching baseball together...but shopping for clothes together. Yes, they carry around their little bags from the mall that have Aeropostle--or what the fuck ever that place is called, The Gap, The Navy, The Puma, and all the other mall stores that cater to man-shoppers.
"Hey Vinnie, you got Saturday off? Sweet! Me too! I realize that there's a game on TV, or we could head up to the mountains for a little fishing, or hell, we could even just spend the day in a bar tying one on.......but I'm wondering if you would just like to go to the mall, do some shopping? You know, for clothes and stuff? The two of us. That sound cool?"
Then some crazy lady comes in to the store, wondering if we sell body warmers? I don't know what a body warmer is. There is no such thing, so she's probably confusing it with something else. "Are you talking about hand or foot warmers? You know, those packets that you put in your gloves or socks in cold weather?" I ask.
"No, god no! It's a body warmer! You know, a piece of clothing!" Like I'm the idiot.
"O--kay. Like arm warmers for runners? Sleeves?" I'm at a loss.
"No! It's armless! It's an armless body warmer! C'mon!! I see them everywhere! Don't tell me you don't have them!" She's almost yelling at this point.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry. I have no idea what a sleeveless body warmer is." I say while keeping my cool and appearing completely genuine.
"Here! This! This is what I'm talking about!!" As she grabs a hold of a garment on a rack.
"A vest??" I say in utter amazement.
"Yea, whatever! Vest, bodywarmer...whatever! That's what I need!" still talking like I am a complete moron. My eye: twitching.
One more. Stay with me on this winner.
Guy is looking at luggage. I ask if I can help. He says, "I bought this piece of luggage yesterday, and I'm wondering if it's going to be big enough."
"Okay, I gotcha. What are you planning on packing in it" I reply.
"I've got six reels that I'm traveling with, and that's all I'm taking in this piece of luggage." he states.
"Alright, have you tried packing them in there yet?" giving this yutz the benefit of the doubt thus far.
"Yea, I brought 'em. They're in there." opening the carry-on to show me that all reels fit perfectly.
"Okay, so you bought this yesterday, and decided to bring your reels in to see if they'd fit in this exact same piece that you just bought?" Trying to make sense of it.
"Yea, I'm just not sure that they're gonna fit." he says, revealing that he is still uncertain that his cargo will fit into this piece of luggage that they are, in fact, fitting into right in front of both our eyes.
"Well.......it looks as though they fit in this piece....that you have already bought, pretty well....." I say with a hint of caution, in case I'm dealing with a mentally disabled person, or there is possibly something obvious that I'm overlooking during this conversation.
"Yea, I don't know if they're gonna fit, man."
At this point, I am completely speechless. I throw my hands up, as to say, "Sorry bud, I don't know what to tell you. You bought this same piece of luggage yesterday, but decided to bring your six fishing reels in here to see if they would fit in the display model--which they obviously do, without a hint of doubt, instead of....................." My left eye starts twitching. I walk away.
Please, please, please....stop being so goddamn stupid. Thank you.