Yar. Here we go.
Alright. Closed last night. It was... interesting. It was Sunday, so we were supposed to get out at nine. Didn't happen. We ended up there until eleven thirty, which I guess is, you know, okay. I got home before midnight, and that was nice. Actually, it was closer to eleven. Not eleven thirty. Yeah.
I was in toys again. I must be doing something right over there, because it was my fourth time out of five shifts in that blasted department.
Actually I kind of like it. Toys was next to Electronics at 1934, so if I wasn't in electronics I'd vie for toys, because it was like, you know, right there. So even though it's NOT right there at 1354, it still kind of reminds me of home. In a frantic, Hispanic-Children-Everywhere sort of way. Hm.
Can't get on Myspace.
I hate the store less now. I'm still not looking forward to going in, exactly, but I guess I'd dreading it less. I'm on a first name basis with a couple people, and I think even a, "say hi in passing" basis. I dunno what it is, but that, you know, new-guy nervousness is becoming less of an issue, more time goes by. Could just be because I was tired and irate last night, and didn't care, but I had no qualms about saying near about whatever popped into my head. Well, I mean, not all of it. But a fair amount, I think. Maybe? I don't know. My point is.... I don't have one.
This kid came up to me last night, and he'd fashioned for himself a mock Target name badge out of cardboard. Allow me to elaborate.
I was rushing around trying to get two full carts of Gobacks done, when the aforementioned child(not EXACTLY a child, probably closer to 13 or 14) starts pointing towards me and trying to get his mom's attention. So she comes up to be and asks if we have, what, size 16 jeans for boys? I wanted to say, "How in piss should I know?" But instead I informed her that if we did they'd be in such and such a place blah blah blah, but you could also try over by the men's department yar blah woog. The whole time the kid is like, staring at me. It was a strange expression. It was like he thought I was a bunch of toys, or maybe some sort of dangerous animal. Maybe something right in between the two. So I finished my explanation and headed off on my way.
About fifteen minutes later the same kid approaches me, and he's got the cardboard name badge. The first thing I thought was, "Our name tags aren't made of cardboard." I really wasn't quite sure how to react to it. You know? He seemed so proud of it. Like, really proud. Like he'd found the cure for the common cold or something. Or scored a touchdown. I don't know. But either way, he made continuous eye contact with me while he nodded and patted the thing, making absolutely sure that I knew what it was. I nodded, tried to smile, and said,
"Oh, yeah, that's great. Awesome. Good job.
... Alright then." And then went back to zoning.
It then hit me that the kid was probably mentally challenged. I've never been good with people with mental challenges. I mean, I know there's nothing wrong with them, they're usually great people, but I'm horrible when it comes to engaging them. Horrible. This kid was the deceptive kind of mentally challenged, too. Where you can't tell from looking at him. He walked and spoke pretty much like any other person you'd expect to meet, except he had really strange things to say and did some really weird stuff to go along with it.
So then he starts asking me if I have a pin or anything like that that he can use to affix the identification effigy to his jacket. I told him I didn't. He starts asking where I got mine. I told him the store gave it to me. He asks again if I have one he can use. I told him no, but that he may be able to find one in the office supplies if he wants to buy one. So after having to repeat this three times, he wanders off, makes it about five aisles down and says, "I take it you don't have it." He hadn't even gotten close to the office supplies. So I sent him down towards them again, and ten minutes later he comes back and repeats his question concerning my having one he could use. And he wasn't joking. He was serious. This was a big, important deal. He HAD to get this thing pinned to himself, somehow.
I think I have a lot of respect for people who raise kids like that.
That was probably a boring story.
I had this other lady the other day come up to me and ask me to take out a plastic bin for her that was sitting on a shelf, stacked with a bunch of other plastic bins. She wanted me to take the thing down and set in on the floor for her. My first impulse was to say, "I'm busy, why can't you do it? You look able." but I did it, because she already looked irritated and I didn't feel like explaining myself to an LOD. Then she goes, "Do you think the rabbit will jump out of that?"
"... huh?" Then I realize she's holding a rabbit. A real life rabbit. She went to set the thing in the box, and it started squirming and all this stuff, and she's like, "The rabbit, do you think he'll jump out?"
"... I'm... I'm not sure, ma'am. I don't have any rabbits."
... Who brings a rabbit into Target?
People are weird.
I think that the Chinese language sounds like music when it's spoken fluently. It's just so smooth and controlled, but still jarred and all over the place. Spanish sounds like chickens. And German sounds like anger. Unless it's some stupid white kid using German profanity to make them self sound cool. Then it's chickens again. Oh, and Japanese is like, musical intelligence. I'm serious. English, English sounds like talking. And sometimes chickens.
I think that's all I've got. Apparently I needed a good ramble.
-AJ
I was in toys again. I must be doing something right over there, because it was my fourth time out of five shifts in that blasted department.
Actually I kind of like it. Toys was next to Electronics at 1934, so if I wasn't in electronics I'd vie for toys, because it was like, you know, right there. So even though it's NOT right there at 1354, it still kind of reminds me of home. In a frantic, Hispanic-Children-Everywhere sort of way. Hm.
Can't get on Myspace.
I hate the store less now. I'm still not looking forward to going in, exactly, but I guess I'd dreading it less. I'm on a first name basis with a couple people, and I think even a, "say hi in passing" basis. I dunno what it is, but that, you know, new-guy nervousness is becoming less of an issue, more time goes by. Could just be because I was tired and irate last night, and didn't care, but I had no qualms about saying near about whatever popped into my head. Well, I mean, not all of it. But a fair amount, I think. Maybe? I don't know. My point is.... I don't have one.
This kid came up to me last night, and he'd fashioned for himself a mock Target name badge out of cardboard. Allow me to elaborate.
I was rushing around trying to get two full carts of Gobacks done, when the aforementioned child(not EXACTLY a child, probably closer to 13 or 14) starts pointing towards me and trying to get his mom's attention. So she comes up to be and asks if we have, what, size 16 jeans for boys? I wanted to say, "How in piss should I know?" But instead I informed her that if we did they'd be in such and such a place blah blah blah, but you could also try over by the men's department yar blah woog. The whole time the kid is like, staring at me. It was a strange expression. It was like he thought I was a bunch of toys, or maybe some sort of dangerous animal. Maybe something right in between the two. So I finished my explanation and headed off on my way.
About fifteen minutes later the same kid approaches me, and he's got the cardboard name badge. The first thing I thought was, "Our name tags aren't made of cardboard." I really wasn't quite sure how to react to it. You know? He seemed so proud of it. Like, really proud. Like he'd found the cure for the common cold or something. Or scored a touchdown. I don't know. But either way, he made continuous eye contact with me while he nodded and patted the thing, making absolutely sure that I knew what it was. I nodded, tried to smile, and said,
"Oh, yeah, that's great. Awesome. Good job.
... Alright then." And then went back to zoning.
It then hit me that the kid was probably mentally challenged. I've never been good with people with mental challenges. I mean, I know there's nothing wrong with them, they're usually great people, but I'm horrible when it comes to engaging them. Horrible. This kid was the deceptive kind of mentally challenged, too. Where you can't tell from looking at him. He walked and spoke pretty much like any other person you'd expect to meet, except he had really strange things to say and did some really weird stuff to go along with it.
So then he starts asking me if I have a pin or anything like that that he can use to affix the identification effigy to his jacket. I told him I didn't. He starts asking where I got mine. I told him the store gave it to me. He asks again if I have one he can use. I told him no, but that he may be able to find one in the office supplies if he wants to buy one. So after having to repeat this three times, he wanders off, makes it about five aisles down and says, "I take it you don't have it." He hadn't even gotten close to the office supplies. So I sent him down towards them again, and ten minutes later he comes back and repeats his question concerning my having one he could use. And he wasn't joking. He was serious. This was a big, important deal. He HAD to get this thing pinned to himself, somehow.
I think I have a lot of respect for people who raise kids like that.
That was probably a boring story.
I had this other lady the other day come up to me and ask me to take out a plastic bin for her that was sitting on a shelf, stacked with a bunch of other plastic bins. She wanted me to take the thing down and set in on the floor for her. My first impulse was to say, "I'm busy, why can't you do it? You look able." but I did it, because she already looked irritated and I didn't feel like explaining myself to an LOD. Then she goes, "Do you think the rabbit will jump out of that?"
"... huh?" Then I realize she's holding a rabbit. A real life rabbit. She went to set the thing in the box, and it started squirming and all this stuff, and she's like, "The rabbit, do you think he'll jump out?"
"... I'm... I'm not sure, ma'am. I don't have any rabbits."
... Who brings a rabbit into Target?
People are weird.
I think that the Chinese language sounds like music when it's spoken fluently. It's just so smooth and controlled, but still jarred and all over the place. Spanish sounds like chickens. And German sounds like anger. Unless it's some stupid white kid using German profanity to make them self sound cool. Then it's chickens again. Oh, and Japanese is like, musical intelligence. I'm serious. English, English sounds like talking. And sometimes chickens.
I think that's all I've got. Apparently I needed a good ramble.
-AJ