It was a dark and (snow) stormy day. I petulantly stand around the register dealing with the swarm of last minute shoppers who enjoy to insult me at every chance they get. I suppose my clearly overinflated ego could use a bashing every now and then, but I would prefer if it were not from someone who just likes to deliver the low blows and not actually participate in a battle of wits. Just calling me an idiot or a bitch isn't cutting it anymore. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me... I'll use them to hurt you. Anyway, the phone rings and while I am usually rather hesitant to answer, it was the lesser of two evils today...
"Hello, MCN misses department"
"Hi. I'm calling from inside your store and I can't find the catalog department. I had a few questions..."
I recoiled in fear... and astonishment. The call was coming from inside the store! I wish it was a deranged serial killer with mommy and daddy issues (as long as it wasn't Jack Shepard or Kate Austen). What scared me even more was that someone took the time to look up the phone number for the store and listen to all the recording to push our extension instead of just walking up and asking someone or, God forbid, look at the signs. The customer then continued on to complain about how she is not receiving coupons at her house. I can say though, I was very sympathetic towards her as I transferred her to another extension and hung up on her.
A whole slew of monsters enjoy parading through the store these days. My favorites are still the zombies. Both in monster movies (and now TV!) and real life. And by real life zombies I mean my dearly beloved customers who gather together to stagger around mindlessly grabbing whatever sweater that looks most like braaaains and get a gift receipt because that ugly ass thing is getting returned the day after Christmas. I gave up asking if they need gift receipts and just hit the button anyway. They'll thank me for it later. If only I had my weapon of choice, a razor scooter so I could bludgeon them and scoot away.
Ghosts are rather similar to the zombies, but they have really given up and surrendered to the despair of the holiday. They wander around lifelessly with a look of anguish, hoping to find the one item that will bring them peace... Of course they never find it.
The vampires are the ones who are angry because the store has been sucked dry of decent looking clothes... and it is clearly my fault. I am the one who bought every single sweater they could possibly want in every store in the district.
Frankenstein/ Frankenstein's monster is pretty sweet. I've only had a few of those where they lumber about throwing together a mishmash of things that create a glorious hodgepodge of gifts that somehow come...alive.
I have only a few more days left to defeat these monsters. I'll be like the horror movie heroine.... except I will be sure to not trip and fall in the middle of the big chase scene. I'll have my razor scooter to get away.
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