Addendum to my previous post
I realized I forgot to hyperlink to popelizbet's excellently-written diatribe and explanation, so for ease of use, click here because I can't make it clearer than she did. That was the first order of business.
Second order of business: I am feeling somewhat better; I can squeak again today, thankfully. I was really afraid when my throat got to hurting that it might be strep because I get strep throat all the time. People think about strep throat and I catch it. No joke. But I think it was just sinus problems because I never get laryngitis when I get strep throat and I'd be in a lot more pain right now if that was the problem. So thanks for the well-wishes, prayers, and incense sticks - they did their job and I am better! :)
Third order of business - I forgot to post an unawesome conversation I had at work with a complete moron customer.
She walks up to my counter and frowns. "You don't have birthday cards," she says, her voice accusing. "I went through your card display and the only one you have is a belated birthday card and it says I'm a Weenie. I'm offended by that."
I stared at her and said, "We're not Hallmark, you freaking moron. Waddle your butt over to HyVee and buy one of their 99cent cards. And you smell bad. I'm sorry, ma'am. That's all we have."
She set her books down on the table. "And you don't have books about daschunds. You have books on training them, but nothing else."
I thought, What the hell else is there to know about daschunds? They're tube rats with bigger heads!
"I need a gift card," she said, continuing to look sour. I showed her the one I had behind the register and she shook her head. "I want a nice one."
"That display over there has them," I said, and pointed to the stand of gift cards next to which she had been standing for several minutes (question: how can people stand next to the gift card display for five minutes and not even notice it?) while waiting in line. She walked over and frowned at the display.
"You have ones that say To my Dad and To my Mom," she said. "Do you have any that say To My Son?"
"No, ma'am," I replied. "We have generic ones, birthday ones, and a few other decorative ones."
She scanned them. "You don't have Happy Birthday To My Daughter, either."
"No. We have generic ones, and birthday ones."
"But none that say To My Son or To My Daughter."
"No."
"Are these all the ones you have?" she asked.
At that moment I closed my eyes, breathed deep, and fantasized about making an example of her by beating her to within an inch of her life with the wooden fixture. "Yes." I clipped. "Those are all the designs we have."
She looked over and saw the display by one of the other registers. "You have more there," she accused, looking triumphant.
"They're more of the same on that display," I began, but she strode over. By now she's holding up a line so I page for assistance.
"These are the same as those," the woman scowled at me.
"That's what I said, ma'am." "Get your fat butt over here, check out, and waddle away!!!"
She walks back to the counter holding one with a girl on it, a cartoon girl with an umbrella and a rainbow. I raised an eyebrow. I thought she was getting one for her son? Oh, well.
"Too bad you don't have ones like the To My Dad ones," she groused as she got out her member card. I could only stare and think, That's for you to write on your card, dipshite.
Second order of business: I am feeling somewhat better; I can squeak again today, thankfully. I was really afraid when my throat got to hurting that it might be strep because I get strep throat all the time. People think about strep throat and I catch it. No joke. But I think it was just sinus problems because I never get laryngitis when I get strep throat and I'd be in a lot more pain right now if that was the problem. So thanks for the well-wishes, prayers, and incense sticks - they did their job and I am better! :)
Third order of business - I forgot to post an unawesome conversation I had at work with a complete moron customer.
She walks up to my counter and frowns. "You don't have birthday cards," she says, her voice accusing. "I went through your card display and the only one you have is a belated birthday card and it says I'm a Weenie. I'm offended by that."
I stared at her and said, "We're not Hallmark, you freaking moron. Waddle your butt over to HyVee and buy one of their 99cent cards. And you smell bad. I'm sorry, ma'am. That's all we have."
She set her books down on the table. "And you don't have books about daschunds. You have books on training them, but nothing else."
I thought, What the hell else is there to know about daschunds? They're tube rats with bigger heads!
"I need a gift card," she said, continuing to look sour. I showed her the one I had behind the register and she shook her head. "I want a nice one."
"That display over there has them," I said, and pointed to the stand of gift cards next to which she had been standing for several minutes (question: how can people stand next to the gift card display for five minutes and not even notice it?) while waiting in line. She walked over and frowned at the display.
"You have ones that say To my Dad and To my Mom," she said. "Do you have any that say To My Son?"
"No, ma'am," I replied. "We have generic ones, birthday ones, and a few other decorative ones."
She scanned them. "You don't have Happy Birthday To My Daughter, either."
"No. We have generic ones, and birthday ones."
"But none that say To My Son or To My Daughter."
"No."
"Are these all the ones you have?" she asked.
At that moment I closed my eyes, breathed deep, and fantasized about making an example of her by beating her to within an inch of her life with the wooden fixture. "Yes." I clipped. "Those are all the designs we have."
She looked over and saw the display by one of the other registers. "You have more there," she accused, looking triumphant.
"They're more of the same on that display," I began, but she strode over. By now she's holding up a line so I page for assistance.
"These are the same as those," the woman scowled at me.
"That's what I said, ma'am." "Get your fat butt over here, check out, and waddle away!!!"
She walks back to the counter holding one with a girl on it, a cartoon girl with an umbrella and a rainbow. I raised an eyebrow. I thought she was getting one for her son? Oh, well.
"Too bad you don't have ones like the To My Dad ones," she groused as she got out her member card. I could only stare and think, That's for you to write on your card, dipshite.