What was that about judging books by their covers?
I got a phone call at 12:14 this afternoon from the DM, asking if I was terribly busy. Well, aside from me planning on taking my lunch at 12:15, no, not really. Note to self: Always say yes. Otherwise you get suckered into calling every store in the district--thirty stores stretching from Green Bay to Peoria. Great. I spent approximately one minute per store on the phone. That meant I finally took my lunch around the time I should have gotten back. Harrumph.
I tended to ask for the keyholder on duty, as in my experience they're the ones who know what's going on; non-keyholders tend to be clueless. I was calling the stores regarding our Chicken Soup sale (3 for 2! Wow! Not really), and sure enough, the non-keyholders would automatically pass me on if for some reason I didn't ask for keyholders. (By the end, I was just trying to finish them up and figured I'd just talk to whomever answered the phone.)
Okay, there is a point to this. When I called our next-closest store, I got a voice that was unfamiliar; she wasn't a keyholder, but passed me on to someone who was. It happened to be a guy who's been there about a year; he helped out at our store right after he started, when K was on medical leave. I always like talking to him for the simple fact that he looks like Brad Pitt, and I have warm, fuzzy memories of spending the day knowing that Brad Pitt was in the mall.
After K got in this afternoon, I related the DM's call and subsequent project to her, and told her about pseudo-Pitt. Now, you know your love life is pretty sad when your coworker who is kind of like a surrogate mom starts getting all excited when she hears you talking about a boy. She immediately went, oh, is this something we should be looking into? Do we need to make arrangements with that mall? Um, no. Sadly, while pseudo-Pitt is very pretty, he seemed, well, dumb as a post. Granted, a good portion of that could have been because he'd *just* started, but still. Who wears flip-flops to a job that does not involve a beach? That killed any hope right there. Still...I was a little disturbed at how excited she got when I mentioned a boy. She keeps trying to set me up with her son. Um, no. Not that there's anything wrong with him, but no. Trust me, I'm perfectly capable of finding a boy on my own.
(This also makes me think of the nurse from camp. She gets all concerned about me being single, too. She once said, my nephew would be perfect for you, except he went crazy and killed his mother. Um...WHAT???!? Turns out she wasn't kidding--about a week after she told me this, I saw an article about his trial. The kid went nuts, beheaded his mom, then put her head on the front porch. And this guy would be perfect for me? What the hell sort of vibes do I give off? I think I'll stay single, thanks. Kris, if you've never talked to Lisa about her, email me and I'll fill you in.)
I tended to ask for the keyholder on duty, as in my experience they're the ones who know what's going on; non-keyholders tend to be clueless. I was calling the stores regarding our Chicken Soup sale (3 for 2! Wow! Not really), and sure enough, the non-keyholders would automatically pass me on if for some reason I didn't ask for keyholders. (By the end, I was just trying to finish them up and figured I'd just talk to whomever answered the phone.)
Okay, there is a point to this. When I called our next-closest store, I got a voice that was unfamiliar; she wasn't a keyholder, but passed me on to someone who was. It happened to be a guy who's been there about a year; he helped out at our store right after he started, when K was on medical leave. I always like talking to him for the simple fact that he looks like Brad Pitt, and I have warm, fuzzy memories of spending the day knowing that Brad Pitt was in the mall.
After K got in this afternoon, I related the DM's call and subsequent project to her, and told her about pseudo-Pitt. Now, you know your love life is pretty sad when your coworker who is kind of like a surrogate mom starts getting all excited when she hears you talking about a boy. She immediately went, oh, is this something we should be looking into? Do we need to make arrangements with that mall? Um, no. Sadly, while pseudo-Pitt is very pretty, he seemed, well, dumb as a post. Granted, a good portion of that could have been because he'd *just* started, but still. Who wears flip-flops to a job that does not involve a beach? That killed any hope right there. Still...I was a little disturbed at how excited she got when I mentioned a boy. She keeps trying to set me up with her son. Um, no. Not that there's anything wrong with him, but no. Trust me, I'm perfectly capable of finding a boy on my own.
(This also makes me think of the nurse from camp. She gets all concerned about me being single, too. She once said, my nephew would be perfect for you, except he went crazy and killed his mother. Um...WHAT???!? Turns out she wasn't kidding--about a week after she told me this, I saw an article about his trial. The kid went nuts, beheaded his mom, then put her head on the front porch. And this guy would be perfect for me? What the hell sort of vibes do I give off? I think I'll stay single, thanks. Kris, if you've never talked to Lisa about her, email me and I'll fill you in.)