Life is a highway? My life is a bad comedy.

I always wanted my life to be like a movie. Mayhaps that is why I became a cinema major. Sometimes I even hear a rather epic score in my head or try to jump-start a montage if I'm having a particularly boring day. Over the past few days, it seems that situations from films have been jumping right off the silver screen and intwining themselves in my life. Unfortunately, it wasn't the Gregory Peck showing up on a Vespa and taking me to Rome that I imagined...

You know those horrible comedies where a rather large woman is mistaken for being pregnant? And an awkward situation ensues? (but not a lot of laughter) Guess who that rotund lady was? Me. Now, I am not the smallest chick in the Easter basket, but I like to think that I'm just a little curvy and in no need of being airlifted out of my house...yet. I was picking up clothes in the maternity department, when I heard a voice beside me say "It's so hard to find clothes at that stage." I looked around and noticed I was the only other person nearby so I assumed that she was talking to me (about what, I had no idea) so I responded with "Huh?" The woman looked at me and said "Well, being so early on, just a few months on..." That got another "Huh?" and then I realized that she was implying that I was with child (what kind of child I still have no idea). My usual quick-wit was even startled by this one so I just told her that I work in the store and was not shopping. Then anger consumed my wit and I was just pissed off the whole day. Now that I've had time to think about it, I came up with a few better responses:

"I just need stretchy pants for the food baby I get after eating endless soup, salad, and breadsticks at the Olive Garden"

"Yeah, I go on Maury next month to find out who the father is."

"Did you know you could get impregnated by a gorilla?"

"I just got back from my a-bduction. I think them there aliens did something to me."

"Between you and me, it's the second coming. The end is near."

Then today, action movies decided to take a stab at ruining my life (or at least day). You know that one where the bus can't stop? Well, I think my little Cavy idolized that bus and decided he wanted to grow up to be just like it. I was actually prepared to go to work and running on time when I stopped to go onto a highway and my car started moving forward. I really thought that I had my foot on the brake and then I realized that my foot was still on the brake, it was just touching the floor. When I panic, I start flailing about so I inadvertently started pumping the brake... and that still didn't stop me. So I just decided to go for it and propelled my car onto the road. Another thing I do when I panic is call my parents because I am a big baby. This time I made the mistake of calling when I was still driving (at about 15 miles an hour with my hazards on). The last stage of panicking is my father yelling at me to calm down. Because angry screaming is what every person who can barely breathe wants to hear. He did snap me out of it though because it forced me to yell something along the lines of "I'm not Keanu Reeves, I don't know what to do in this situation!" Unfortunately, Keanu Reeves did not jump into my car to help me. Sandra Bullock did not offer to drive. And the whole ordeal was probably not as exciting. But luckily, my car did not explode and I like to think that my life has a little stronger of a plot.

The weather outside may be frightful, but retail is even moreso

So it's been awhile and I've felt that I've been in a rather creative slump. But then I realized that I've just been pouring my creativity into other things that are not at all productive... like making a rubber band ball at work. Then, I decided that wasn't enough so I stole the "Caution! Wet Floor" sign and set it up as a goal... I truly don't care if people fall, it might make the day more eventful and it would feel just like I was in a Charlie Chaplin picture. But then I couldn't talk and I would just move my mouth, then hold up a sign of what I just said. Hey! That's an idea... But, anyway, back to the magical evening I was just describing... I found one of those yard sticks that fold down and made it into a golf club/ hockey stick. And just like that, Register Hockey Golf was born.

You might ask yourself, where were the customers when this innovative game was conceived? Well, I imagine they were tucked safely away in their own homes while the fearless retail associates risked their lives to be of service in case anyone decided to brave the Pittsburghian tundra to get a new top. That's right. There was a giant ass blizzard. And not the good kind from the Dairy Queen. Did we close early? No. Were there people shopping? Yes. But they were Russian- this was like summertime to these folks and they really didn't make an appearance till the end of the night. There was a 3 hour lull where I just sat and watched the tumbleweeds go by... or the dbous (dust bunnies of unusual size... if that sounds slightly familiar- the rouses were rodents of unusual size in the Princess Bride. I feel the need to explain my slightly obscure references). And these people didn't buy anything. The store probably only made about $200 from the time it started snowing. I knew it was snowing because EVERY CUSTOMER HAD TO TELL ME. I had to come up with some response better than "Yup. It's winter" or "Yup. They said it was going to."

So I came up with:

"Drats! Da Heat Meiser's plan haz been foiled again!"

"Oops! I guess I didn't use enough aerosol hairspray this morning! Workin' on that hole in the ozone layer"

"Oh no! 2012 is coming! The end of times is at hand. Oh. It's January in Pennsylvania. Snow is normal"

"At least it's not dead birds"

"I'll be concerned when it's fireballs"

"And you came to the mall why?"

Just singing "Let it snow" until they run away

"If you are planning on building a snowman, we just sold our last magic hat to make it come to life. Try Macy's."

"If only it was raining men."

Need I go on? Unfortunately, my quick wit needed an oil change and by the time I finally got frustrated enough to use one of these quips, all of the customers were gone. And only the associates remained. It was like a horror movie where snow was the axe wielding murderer. But instead of an axe, it just made your commute home shittastic. Even though we didn't close that night, we did close Sunday for something that was even more nerve wracking... the AFC championship game. Go Stillers.

What else can I say but "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious"

Some young hooligans rebel by getting things pierced or dying their hair crazy colors or listening to loud music. I rebelled by watching Mary Poppins. To this day, it remains one of my favorite movies... and the one that my father wants to disappear off the face of this earth and burn in hell. I'm not sure if it's because I realized that I could annoy the heck out of him by watching it constantly or I actually liked it that much. Nonetheless, I still sing the praises of Supercalifraglisticexpialidocious loud and proud. When asked to list our top 10 favorite films in one of my film classes, you can bet your spoonful of sugar that I listed Mary Poppins in the top 5... and only got a little bit of slack for it. My dad won't admit why he hates the movie so much. I suppose I would be more concerned if he actually liked it, but he doesn't need to do the cold, demon eyes every time he hears about the nanny who shall not speak its name.

When I heard the touring show of Mary Poppins was coming into town, I had to go. Even if I was the creepy person who went by myself. I asked my mom if she wanted to go and of course she said yes. And somehow coerced my dad into going as well. I'm pretty sure she either beat him over the head or drugged him. Then, things got slightly worse. Our team, the Steelers, made it to the playoffs... and their first playoff game just happened to be scheduled for today right in the middle of the afternoon performance. So I had one disgruntled little Steeler fan on my hands. Luckily, as soon as we sat down he made a friend with one of the other dads that was there. It wasn't at all humiliating that the conversation started with:

Other Dad: ...We decided to take my son, he's six. How old's your's?

My loving father: (long pause, glare in my direction) 23

Thankfully, this is the classy town of Pittsburgh, so it was pretty obvious what Steeler fans were there against their will. Steeler jerseys are now appropriate to wear to the theater and I even saw a few with the Terrible Towel. I am actually rather disappointed no one waved it. So he made friends with those folks that were sitting around us. At least he didn't sneak in a radio like he was going to.

We had him blocked in at least so he couldn't leave until intermission. I actually didn't think he would come back, but he did, looking rather depressed. At first I thought that maybe he was looking for a tv or radio or at least a game update. However, it turns out he found out that Mary Poppins does fly over the audience and he was "looking for a weapon in case she flies our way." Apparently he has dreams of hitting Mary Poppins out of the sky with a baseball bat. And somehow disgruntled remarks just got worse from there...

Daddy Dearest: Think if I go up onto the roof, I can see the game?

Me: Maybe you can go ask Mary to borrow her umbrella.

Daddy Dearest: If I got a hold of her umbrella, you know where I'd shove it.

He actually sat through the rest of the performance with only a few more negative comments. And I did get him to admit that it was pretty impressive. He apparently just doesn't like the storyline. I told him that he should pay attention to it or at least the father's story arc. And, boom, bitch. I won that argument and he was silent during the long exit out of the theater. Until I made my mom snap this gem...

It's going to take more than just a spoonful of sugar to get him to speak to me again.

Braaaains... oh, wait, they don't have any.

It finally happened. I got my wish. Well, one of them. And it certainly wasn't my first choice. Today the mall was empty enough that one could successfully reenact scenes from Dawn of the Dead. Well, sort of. I did want to shoot myself in the face a-la my former professor who did just that in the original movie. But, unfortunately, the store wasn't completely a ghost town since a few survivors of the zombie outbreak decided to flock to the mall... because that worked so well the first time. And in the remake. And by zombie apocalypse, I mean snow storm. And not really even a bad snow storm, just a light dusting in comparison to yesterday and snowmageddon of last year. Still, if I didn't have to go out in it, I certainly would not. I'm still partial to the notion that everything should just hibernate over the winter. However, a few people did feel the need to seek shelter in the comforting fluorescent lights and bad 90s music. Either that or the grocery store was completely wiped out and they began foraging in the mall for basic provisions. I'm pretty sure they were the hill people who had their own dog sled team. At least that's how they acted...

Last night, a woman was so confused because she got a text message sent to her phone and it gave her a coupon. Now, we do have the mobile barcodes, but they are much different than the codes that can only be used online. The one that she showed me was clearly an online one (because I have those memorized... God help me)... plus, she showed me a website. I tried to tell her, but she acted like I have no idea what I'm talking about... it's not like I'm stuck in that hellhole for most of my life or anything. Or have ever used a computer before. Turns out she was sent an email... not a text message. Big shocker.

Out of the handful of customers that I actually helped the past 2 days, about half of them asked for an extra 15% off. I guess they're giving out coupons for being a dumbass and going out during a winter weather advisory. I gave the coupons to a few who looked like they climbed right out of the movie Deliverance. For one I didn't want to squeal like a pig. And for another thing I thought maybe they did have an actual sled dog team and could possibly train my Siberian husky to pull me around on a lid to a garbage bin. Sadly, this was not the case and I think they just owned one of the many 4 wheel drive trucks in the parking lot. Not fair. I drive a '99 Cavy who is like a fat kid during the "extreme" weather conditions. I guess my car just takes after me. I'm considering pouring a cup of hot cocoa into the engine during the winter and dangling an ice cream cone in front of it over the summer. Maybe then he'll actually want to go up hills

What a lovely forecast. It is going to be snowing and in case you couldn't tell from the temperatures, "still cold." That means I get to come up with all kinds of activities to do while bored out of my mind and not doing anything remotely related to my job.... I will be looking for people to pretend to be zombies.

When you're alone and it's getting kinda snowy, well good luck getting... Dahntahn.

You'd think us yinzers ain't used to da snah in dahntahn Picksburgh (Google translator- You would think the people in the city of Pittsburgh are not accustomed to the snow... in January, I might add)

That's right. It's snowing. In January. In Pittsburgh. Is anyone surprised by this? Apparently, yes, they are so shocked that they all had heart attacks at the wheel and decided to curl up and die on the parkway. Oh, wait, no, we moved at about 5 miles an hour. Unfortunately, the road crews are once again completely caught off guard (they've only been predicting this for about 3 days) and while they could have attempted to prep the roads in advance, they decided panicking during rush hour is better. Sometimes I really love Pittsburgh (a "Where's Dahnny Iris" (Donny Iris) chant introduced The Clarks at the Winter Classic), but I simply cannot even begin to like it just a little whenever it snows. (Speaking of snow, the two days that we wanted it to be cold and snowing, it decided to be relatively mild and raining... take that, NHL, see if you ever want to shove that Winter Classic into our city again)

So Pittsburgh is located on the northern part of the east coast... that basically spells snow and ice and sleet for at least 4 months of the year (if we're lucky). Last year, we went through the terrifying experience of Snowpacolypse... let's review the photos, shall we?

This is the street where I live. Notice the snow. Notice the like 2 freaking feet of snow. However, still not as bad as some places get it. Yet we have no places to put it, even though I would have volunteered my yard. And throwing into the river is apparently out of the question, even though we have three of them.

Now, we as 'Burghers tend to panic at the first flake and stock up on bread and toilet paper. When word was out that billions of flakes were about to fall and take over the world Pinky and the Brain style, the supermarkets were the first casualty...

...or maybe it was just a really good sale?

Based on how yinzers stock up on supplies for a little snowstorm, we're going to be the only ones left during the zombie apocalypse. Plus, perhaps we'll be able to create a barricade out of the lawn chairs that we set out to reserve parking spaces... or prime spots during parades. We like parades.

I hate the snow. Most of my friends hate the snow. But now, I would like to introduce the only one I know who is happy whenever it snows....

Isn't she a cutie?

These folks are such birdbrains!... if only they were to come crashing to the ground in mass

One of my teachers in my small hick town high school was a fan of the comedian Bill Engvall. Big surprise. Whenever one of his students would ask a silly question, he would stare at us and just say "here's your sign." Apparently this is the redneck equivalent of a dunce cap. I would like to present these signs to my customers... or they could just read the ones we have posted. Particularly the "Exit/ Line forms on the other side" and "Bathroom that-a-way" signs. It would save me a lot of aggravation and I would not have to grace the customers with allowing them to hear my precious words and sarcastic answers when they wait 10 minutes at the other side of the queue line and then get angry when I tell them to walk around. I would understand if maybe the sign was on the floor or written on the ceiling, but it is at eye level with most people. They might even glance at it, stare blankly for a bit and continue to be a rebel and stand in the wrong spot. I am also sick of answering the question "Where are the escalators?" when the customer is staring directly at the people magically floating above the sign that says "Jewelry." Or "Where's the mall?"... Why, it couldn't be the giant hole in the wall over there this walkway leads to! No, that must be an alternate dimension of the magical land of Oz and we must follow the beige linoleum road!

Maybe the decline of human intellect is a sign of the apocalypse. Or "aflockalypse" as the Washington Post is calling it due to the mass bird death that is apparently plaguing the world. My first thought from my geektastic brain on hearing about these suicidal birds is "We're going to have a Flash Forward!" Then I heard about the mass fish suicide... or whatever it was and became actually concerned. Then I figured it out before CNN, The Washington Post, or my top source for American news- BBC.... The Mega Millions numbers featured 4 of the numbers from the dearly departed ABC series Lost (which I am obsessed with). I was wrong. It's not the prematurely cancelled Flash Forward that is coming to life- it's Lost. Someone on that island forgot to push the button and it set off a burst of electromagnetism that caused the bird deaths and the fish to go belly up. And I suspect that it was Walt since the series clearly established that he has a thing against birds... now if only he could strike down my customers too.

Don't Hoveround Here No More...

Tom Cruise makes it seems so easy for the slightly more aged folk among us to maneuver in motorized wheelchairs. What Mr. Jerry Maguire didn't think of is that these elderly speed racers really put the pedal to the metal instead of doing fancy choreographed turns in wide open spaces. These geriatric speed demons must think their in a Nascar race to the grave... or the early bird special... or, my favorite, they just like to play mall walker bowling. Several times we have had senior citizens race through the store on these motorized wheelchairs of doom... and we need to set up a speed trap to catch these senior speeders. The other day (I unfortunately did not witness this) a woman came racing through the store on her motorized scooter, of course, made the corner a little too wide and knocked over a mannequin that was SITTING ON A PLATFORM. The little speed demon didn't even flinch as she raced away from the scene of the crime. We can not let hit and runs like this happen anymore. Innocent mannequins are being taken out one by one because they do not have to take a driver's test to use the hoveround. Once they are able to do fancy synchronized... er, hovering? then they can have the key to their little race car.

There was another incident over the summer when Gretchen Wilson was signing autographs in front of the store. A rather flamboyantly dressed lady came through sporting a visor, a brightly colored shirt and reflective pants just in case she decided to take the scooter out on the road at night. Oh, and a fanny pack and a small dog in a dress to complete the ensemble. A dog. In a dress. In the mall. I felt very bad for the dog not only because it was wearing a dress, but because he had to run to keep up with Speed Racer. I'm actually quite surprised that he didn't get run over.

Speaking of dogs and clothing- they can also help you decide which sweater to buy. Or at least Paris Hilton could. The nonhuman Paris Hilton. Well, the dog Paris Hilton... I suppose I should be more specific- the one who can't speak.... I guess that describes the person-ish one too, but the Paris Hilton I met looked more like this:

Complete with sweater. And, once again, this dog was in the mall. Being held by its owner, who was asking what it thought about sweaters. I really wish we can have just one camera at the register to take pictures of some of the people that come through that store. Like the man on the segway. Or the woman that walks through with her dogs in a baby carriage. Or the elderly speed demons... but we'd need a pretty good camera to be able to get a clear photo of them.