Blah Blah Black Friday.

I would be amiss if I didn't write a post about the infamous Black Friday, but to be honest nothing too eventful happened. Besides kharma finally catching up to me in the form of an evil candle, which sliced my finger the whole way open...my middle finger. OK, maybe this is a good thing. Honestly. I didn't have very mean customers. I had a few idiots who decided to call every five minutes to see if we had a certain shirt or pair of pants... but even that was rather amusing, I got to practice my different accents. It was indeed a small world at the good ol' MCN.

I survived Thanksgiving with my loving family with only a few beat downs of what a waste of life I am, a lot less than I usually receive, in fact. It was a night of good food and good times... especially finding out I'll be going to a certain outdoor hockey game on January 1st. The traffic was the only thing that annoyed the hell out of me the past few days. On may way home, I wasn't sure if it was people driving home for the holidays or fleeing a zombie apocalypse. My heart skipped a beat since I had left me weapon of choice, a Razor scooter, at home. (A mode of transportation/ kinda sorta quick getaway AND a pretty good bludgeoning weapon) Unfortunately it was Thanksgiving traffic with not a zombie in sight... not even a zombie turkey. I don't handle traffic well, in any form. But this time I made a friend. Well, not really, but I totally would have if we were stopped long enough. A car merged in front of me, which does annoy me sometimes because I just want to get the hell out of there and it's just one more person in my way. This time was different though. This time the car was actually a hearse with the license plate "6 FT DWN." Whoever you are, you are now my hero. Unfortunately, I lost sight of him when we approached the tunnel and everyone decided to start merging and braking to make sure that it was a real tunnel and Wile E Coyote did not paint it on the side of the mountain to trick the Road Runner and unsuspecting Pittsburgh drivers.

Oh well, tomorrow's another day... sometimes I actually hope for the assholes, at least they make it interesting.

All I want for Christmas is for this girl to put on some pants.

So the real children of the corn have only made personal appearances in the store a few times this holiday season... mostly they're just over the speaker system- like the disembodied whispers on Lost... except much creepier. I suppose the threat of a fat man in a red suit handing out coal instead of toys is enough for any child to be good for at least one month. Except I was just terrified that a strange man was breaking into my house and leaving toys. There had to be some sort of catch. I always wanted to roofie the cookies and milk so I could ask him what his deal was, but my mom would never let me. My theory was that each Christmas he would steal a piece of the children's souls, which is what caused them to grow up. Then I realized that not every religion believes in Santa Claus and life just sucks. I once again wondered why I could not have been born Jewish and been saved from the Christmas intruder (And I would be in the film industry already). I find the Krampus much more reassuring- at least he doesn't put on a cheery facade while being filled with an evil chocolatey nougat on the inside.

(Now THAT is some Christmas spirit)

Anyway, most of the normally evil midget minions of the Dark Side are peculiarly well behaved... except for the children who were trying to molest a mannequin last night right before close, but I blame the parents for that one- have the damn kids home before 9:00. The upcoming Christmas holiday is for the children- they are still innocent enough to enjoy it and don't realize that they're parents had to knock someone out to get them the toys underneath the tree. That's why I was so aghast when a young mother looked at her baby (who was probably celebrating his first Christmas) and said "God, Taylor, they're playing Christmas music, let's shoot ourselves." Granted, he probably didn't understand what she said and the cheery melodies were being sung by Satan's children... in the beginning of November. But shouldn't she be excited for this milestone in her baby's life? And most mothers that I know (including my own) would never dream of saying the word "shoot" around their children, except in substitution of "shit," let alone direct it at them. That's one of the few times that I could have actually hit a customer who didn't say something directed at me...

Speaking of hitting, one of the first customers I've had was hitting the all you can eat buffet a little too hard. (Awesome segue, right?) As soon as we opened, a rather irate rotund girl in a tunic shirt and no pants or leggings (NO PANTS. NOTHING TO COVER UP THE COTTAGE CHEESE LEGS) waddled up to the counter. OK, maybe not that big, but she was no ballet dancer... unless she was an understudy for the dancing hippos in Fantasia. That may sound harsh, but she was a bitch and a dumbass. Normally I love fat people, I even like to consider myself one of them. Skinny people scare me. I don't like skeletons, we have skin and fat for a reason- cover up your damn bones. Like I was saying, the girl was a bitch and she gave me attitude when she asked for the location of leggings, which she clearly needed. Then, in about five minutes she walked back up to the counter, threw them down in a huff and basically said she went to work in the morning and got told to go buy pants or leggings because her dress was too short. No shit, Sherlock, it was actually a shirt. A shirt that skinny people shouldn't even try to get away with as a dress. My rule is if it jiggles, cover it up and the girl was a whole new kind of Jello Jiggler herself. She bought the leggings and left her giant ass (how fitting) Starbucks cup tipped over in the fitting room when she changed into them and then basically ran back out to the mall... it was probably the most exercise she had in awhile.

I'm dreaming of some white gift boxes... oh wait, they're upstairs? &%@$!!!!

So the aforementioned Satan's holly jolly Christmas tunes seem to stir something in otherwise normal good hearted people who enter the store. They become monsters. Or it's quite possible that they were monsters to begin with and it has nothing to do with the Christmas jukebox not even Arthur Fonzarelli's powerful fist would be able to fix. For some reason the season of peace and goodwill seems to bring out the opposite in shoppers as I have learned over the five most unfortunate years of my life. I've encountered a few prime examples of these folks the past couple of days...

The first lady I had today walked up to my register, smiled, and placed her items ever so gently on the counter and immediately proclaimed "I'd like boxes for these." She seemed pleasant enough so I smiled back and nicely replied, "They're available upstairs in catalog." Her expression immed

iately changed and she threw (yes, threw) shirts at me, muttered something about not wanting these and stormed away. The other customers being waited on where aghast at her behavior, but agreed that boxes should readily be available. Because once again, I have the power to change store policy. It's not like it's the managers who don't want a mountain of boxes behind the already cluttered register area, they're all for it. I'm the one who put my extremely powerful foot down. I don't know what's gotten into me, but now I almost hope for the angry customers just so I can laugh at how ridiculous they act. Never have I completely flipped out on someone I've known for about

5 seconds, but for some reason these customers think it's completely acceptable. There's nothing else to do but laugh. And that's exactly what I did to the lady who threw shirts at me over free boxes that are located up the escalator and a few steps away, but I held in my laughter until she was out of earshot...almost

Another sales associate (seriously) asked me if I

offered to run upstairs and get boxes for her. I laughed even harder at this suggestion. The woman had two legs that worked. I could tell from the brisk pace she kept while angrily storming out of the store. Sometimes I do feel bad for the (sweet) elderly people who just seem exhausted even just thinking of going upstairs and having to wait in another line. But that's about it. Everyone else can suck it up and realize it's a pretty busy time for retail stores. If they truly weren't expecting it, then I offer them a big welcome to America- land of greed and home of the brave (meaning they're brave enough to punch you out for the year's biggest Christmas toy). Everyone else- start shopping in July.

I don't know if I've lost so much respect for myself that I don't care how demeaning people are towards me or if I can laugh it off and truly not give two shits what these imbeciles think of me because I for some reason put myself on a ped

estal as the untouchable sales clerk. All I know is I hope that I have a somewhat broader view of the world that I never throw a hissy fit over something as trivial as boxes. Not to sound preachy, but there are so many people out there who have a lot less than I do and as much as my life sucks- it could be a lot worse. Isn't now the time we should be thinking of them instead of beating people (mostly the sales associates)to a pulp in order to get the cheapest price or another sweater that the giftee doesn't need and will probably be take to Goodwill next year anyway? I guess that's why it's the season of pieces and Goodwill.

Oh what fun it is to ride and sing a slaying song tonight...

No. I did not spell "sleighing" incorrectly, that is what the music at my unfortunate place of employment sounds like...a merry band of children with axes and machetes off to slay their next victim. That's right, they began playing Christmas music in the beginning of November... hooray. Even customers are complaining about it. Well, one customer. And she pretty much blamed me like I have control over their choice of tunes and for some reason I would choose the rejects from American Idol duetting with Satan's minions. It's a sad day when I get excited to hear the soothing sounds of Justin Timberlake, Lance Bass, JC, Chris Kirkpatrick, and Joey Fatones wishing me "Merry Christmas (merry Christmas) and happy holidays." A wonderful feeling from the floor to the ceiling, indeed.

I have several new interpretations of "Baby It's Cold Outside." In one version I'm pretty sure the man roofied her. I've always been creeped out by the line, "Say! What's in this drink?" and the MCN version makes it all the creepier since the female seems genuinely concerned for her safety and the man sounds like he just stopped by because he had to inform her that he moved into the neighborhood. Then all of this gets turned around in the next version of this song that plays on loop over and over and over and over (I'm sure it gets played at least 10 times). In this version, I'm pretty sure the female is ready to tie the man up outside or in a freezer and have him freeze to death. The lyrics are the same, but the girl sounds like she's actually a Satanic doll brought to life around Christmas time to terrorize the man of the house. I guess this can all be chalked up to a girl power version of the song. Oh, what those crazy Spice Girls have done to society.

Then they decide to play "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas " over and over and over again. As if working in retail wasn't depressing enough, they decide to play the most depressing Christmas song ever. The only good thing about this song was that it was played in the episode of The X-Files, "How the Ghosts Stole Christmas." No wonder the holiday season is also suicide season, a lot of it probably has to do with this song. And, oh yes, the version that they play at MCN does include the opening line "Have yourself a merry little Christmas, it may be your last." What a nice thought. Thank you for telling me I might die within the next year and reminding me in a happy little Christmas tune... which is about being away from the ones you

love. But now it just reminds me of being stuck in retail.

Luckily, they are only starting to mix in the Christmas tunes. So I still have a few songs that can be my saving grace during the hard work day. Until then, I'll just have to sit and wait that they work in my favorite version of Jingle Bells... you know, the one about Batman.

I got the best of both worlds... the idiots AND the morons

So I have been doing projects at work for the past few days. Taking off my name tag, being incognito. Flying under the radar. Hoping the village idiots don't all take the caravan to the mall all at once. And for the past few days it worked. Until today. Not only did the village idiot come visit, but she brought her friend, the half wit.

Now, you know your life is sad when the highlights of your day consist of finding a Hannah Montana keychain and getting to use a magic eraser at work. Whatever. All the hep cats like my girl Miley and magic erasers are well... Magical. It's thoroughly life changing. All the cleaning solutions are in the sponge- all you need is a small amount of water. Which makes the first scenario I encountered today all the more idiotic. I was scrubbing down fixtures with the mystical sponge when a woman walked up beside me and claimed I left the bucket of bleach I was using in the middle of the aisle and she got it all over her pants. One- the container was in the center of a slightly raised platform that was nearly impossible to walk on...unless she was the incredible shrinking woman. Which brings me to point two- it was a gladware container. So this woman must not only possess a shrink ray, but is also a direct descendant of Jesus and hasn't quite gotten the whole water into wine thing down and turns it into bleach instead.


Then after this woman left I felt another tap on my shoulder. This time I turned around and found a little lady in a baseball cap and (I kid you not) a fanny pack. After all my 90s timetraveller theories went through my head and I choked back the urge to quote Bill and/or Ted I asked if I could be of any assistance to her. She paused and then asked me "What would happen if I made an announcement and made every single person here not purchase anything unless it was made in America?" Yup, this is what I need to celebrate the end of those goddamn election commercials. "Well," I said, "it would be counterproducrive because people would stop buying stuff then you would be putting a lot of Americans out of a job. Not a good one, but it would be better than the sweatshops that the illegal immigrants would enjoy working at if these clothes were made in America. Oh and the clothes would be a lot more expensive. So rant about Americans getting their dream factory job, but it's not goigng to happen. Ps. I didn't vote because politicians are mean and if they can't say something nice they shouldn't say anything at all..." so maybe it wasn't all that and more like "uh huh" and a "hmmm " noise, but I did listen to her rant with my people's eyebrow proudly raised until she finally shut up and I said if I ever ran for office I'd take this into consideration.

Now, I understand and respect people's opinions....no I don't, but please don't say your opinion to someone who truly does not give a shit and cannot change anything you are bitching about. It will force me to make fun of you. Look at that, maybe I could be a politician. My running mate will be Hannah Montana (which will be me in a blonde wig, of course)

PS. Not to get political and have to reiterate what I have been saying for DAYS, but... If you say anything on here about me not voting, I will mock you. It is my right to vote and it is also my right to refuse it. If I really don't like any of the candidates, I don't think I should have to choose the lesser of two evils. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a limo out front and the hottest styles, every shoe, every color so I gots to go rock out the show.

Love and 1990s John Stamos' Mullet,

Jen