Robots Vs. Zombies

George Romero must have worked in retail. Everyday I see more and more where he got his inspiration for mall-people to become mindless zombies in Dawn of the Dead. Customers really do stumble aroundwith glazed over eyes that aren't focused on anything until they see something shiny or some colorful shirt, aka their "Braaaains." Now, us associates on the other hand are more accustomed to repeating the same mindless task over and over and over again, much like robots. Thus the epic battle begins...

Sometimes the zombies bring their creepy-crawlies along. I've heard horror stories before, but I believed them as much as I believed mixing Pop Rocks and soda is fatal... fatally delicious, maybe. Anyway, these stories of terror are about creatures with eight long legs that tag along with their undead companions, hiding in the bag the zombie is about to return to some poor, unsuspecting robot. I don't know if these people are hoarders, arachnologists or just looking to scare the bejeezus out of someone . But it finally happened to me. I had a close encounter of the arachnid kind.

A customer wanted to return something and to protect myself from the insects and bodily fluid that are routinely found in return bags, I just flip it over ad shake the contents onto the counter. Unfortunately, this doesn't work so well when your other hand is on the counter and the itsy bitsy spider comes tumbling out of the bag and onto your hadn. Now, I am by no means one of those girls who is petrified of every thing that creeps and crawls... well, besides babies. I just hate surprises and being startled. Seriously, throw me a surprise party and you're liable to be punched in the face. So I jumped uncharacteristically high for the the little white girl I am and shook the poor creature off my hand. Meanwhile, the customer stared at me like it was MY fault there was a spider in the bag along with a glare of "How dare you?" So I guess the zombies win this time. Unless the spider was radioactive and bit me...as long as I don't start singing U2 songs, I should be OK.

Live every day like it's St. Patrick's Day.

You're supposed to pinch people who aren't wearing green on St. Patrick's Day. Change the 'i' to a 'u' and I'd be the happiest lass this side of the Emerald Isle. I thought people were supposed to be drinking or something on this beloved holiday.

All through high school and sometimes even now, I aspire to be like Patsy and/or Edina from Ab Fab. So it's a bit British and a bit retro now, but would anyone really be surprised if I just showed up everywhere with a cigarette and a bottle of Stoli? Well, yes. They might wonder how I could afford the Stoli. Now I am starting to rethink my dream after realizing that two of the regular customers are the slightly more obese American versions of my two favorite drunks. I'm not sure how I never realized that before, the one slightly taller, slightly rounder, slightly blonder one is the less drunk, less funny, and less endearing version of Patsy, darling. Which leaves the smaller one with curly, frizztastic hair as Eddie. The scary thing is one of these women has children that they bring into the store. Don't worry, the children are always made up properly...meaning they're wearing make up. At about 5 or 6 years old. Since they are the Americanized version of my favorite British broads, they are just as into fashion as their British counterparts, but they're more into getting good bargains. Most of what they bought today though were for their future streetwalker children, except for the accessories. These two ladies walked up to the counter with a bunch of children's clothing and then a few hair accessories with brightly colored flowers glued to headbands and bobby pins. I bagged the kids clothes and put the accessories in a smaller bag and asked the kids if they wanted to carry their own bag (usually they do). That's when the "Patsy" stopped me and said "Oh, no. These are our's" and proceeded to take one of the headbands with a giant hot pink flower out of the bag and put it in her hair. Well, maybe they're going to San Francisco. I think my favorite part of the transaction though is when something from the children's department didn't have a tag. I tried calling back, but it was taking forever. So I offered to run back and try to find a duplicate of the top and asked where exactly it was. "Patsy" got frustrated and said she would go back and get it. I thanked her and thought that was the end of it. Apparently, it was very difficult and so frustrating for her to go back there because she came back in a huff. Oh, and said to "Eddie" as she was walking away that next time I could walk my fat ass back there. Maybe they were drinking this St. Patty's.... or they're just living everyday like it is St. Patrick's Day.

When Irish eyes are smiling...they aren't stuck in retail hell.

On this hallowed weekend of St. Patty's when my fellow Irishmen can roam the streets free of sobriety, I was stuck in the hellhole all freaking Saturday. I suppose you could say I still upheld some of the traditions still since I was positively green with envy at those drunken bastards. Unfortunately, I was stuck waiting on angry little leprechauns who wanted to keep every speck of gold.

A customer walked up to my register on Saturday with one of the survey coupons that cannot be combined with any other coupon anymore. We also had coupons that were $15 off you spent $75. She could have split her purchase up into two different transactions, but wanted to know which would be the better deal. I informed her that it was a twenty cent difference, but if she wanted to use the survey coupon then it would at least be on one receipt. She agreed to this, but when I finished she looked at her receipt and asked if I used both coupons. To which I responded that I already told her I couldn't. Then she said that she would have saved more money had she split them up into two transactions. Yes, she would have saved a whole 20 cents. So she made me return everything and ring it up again. I hope she enjoys all that cash money she got back. You can't even buy a bowl of Lucky Charms with that kind of change.

Then around 8:00, the drunks must have gotten a second wind and decided to come to the mall. Or at least one woman dressed like the a lady leprechaun working on the corner for a special kind of pot of gold. She walked up to my register and threw a bag on the counter and said she needed to return some things. Well, there was only one shirt in the bag and this was just devastating. She almost had a breakdown because she forgot the other shirt she needed to bring back. I had no sympathy because I'm pretty sure there's bigger problems in the world right now than an ill-fitting shirt sitting alone on a kitchen counter. And I think she needed the money for more booze anyway...

I suppose there's always the "real" St. Patrick's day to celebrate, but men in skirts playing bagpipes only march around once...well, maybe twice....maybe a few times a year. What? Yinzers like parades.

The Easter Bunny would be ashamed...

Being the good little ex-Catholic school girl I am, I usually try to give something up for Lent so the Easter bunny will hide eggs all over my house Easter morning . This year, I decided I was going to give up sarcasm and be nice to customers. Well, I made it through Ash Wednesday...because they called me Tuesday and said my hours were cut on Wednesday (like it was a bad thing!) Then I realized when I came in on Thursday that it would have been easier to give up breathing.

As soon as I came in, I had to deal with the mannequin who thought it was still Mardi Gras and couldn't keep her clothes on. I hate changing the mannequins to begin with, but I hate the immature, dirty old men who seem to flock to the store when they hear the sounds of disassembling and disrobing the plastic women of their dreams. Honestly, you would think they were the boys from Porky's looking through a peep hole... into a mannequin factory? So hot and steamy.

Now, there are also the lady customers who must have had a little bit too much, forgot to "just dance" and somehow forgot how to use her telephone... her-her-her telephone. Either that or they bought a cellphone that is far beyond their technical knowledge. Twice today I had to show women how to text with their own phone. (We have coupons that are sent via text message) And I just love the awkward moments when they just stand there, staring at you, waiting for the coupon that never comes.

So, God, Jesus, the Easter Bunny, I'm sorry I failed miserably on my Lenten sacrifice and gave into the evil, evil sarcastic little demon on my shoulder... in one day. I'll try to do better next year... especially since I'll probably be in jail for stalking up The Dark Knight Rises set. Joseph Gordon-Levitt, here I come!

Call now for your psychic reading!

Move over, Miss Cleo, I'm about to join the Psychic Friends clubhouse. For realsies. I have not developed super observational skills like Shawn Spencer or that far too dramatic copy starring that smug Australian. (Really? Did you think that just because the clues don't glow means viewers won't recognize it's pretty much a carbon copy?)

You may remember a few weeks ago when my car decided that the train conducted by Denzel Washington and baby Captain Kirk wasn't going to be the only unstoppable vehicle in the Burgh. Well, the night before my car's brakes failed, I had a dream that I had to ride my bike to work because I didn't have a car. PREMONITION!

Well, the day after I had a dream that Danny Devito and Rhea Perlman tried to carjack me (in Pittsburgh... and a post apocalyptic one at that), but then a truck pulled up behind me and the big truck must have been mighty scary for these tiny people and they ran away. When I went to thank my saviors I discovered they were actually Cillian Murphy and Joseph Gordon-Levitt. An odd combination all around. I couldn't figure out the correlation between these people. Then I realized that both Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Cillian Murphy are both in the Christopher Nolan Batman trilogy. THEN it was rumored that Pittsburgh may be a shooting location for The Dark Knight Rises. PREMONITION?! Let's hope so.

The PA film tax credit has been renewed so let's see how this goes. I will give the soul of my future accidental baby to work on this film. I'd give my own, but I fear it may not be worth much any more and MC Nickels pretty much owns most of it anyway. I haven't gotten to work on any of the films that have been shot here yet, but who needs Russell Crowe throwing a phone at you anyway? Christian Bale, however, if he feels the need to toss a light or two around, I would be happy to be a target.... I was always good at dodgeball in elementary school. Clearly, it's meant to be. So I need to get my conniving little brain into overdrive and figure out how to weasel my way onto this set. I will Jean Claude Van Damme repel my way into it if I I have to. I am a woman nerd. Hear me roar. I will not be silenced until I can be the one to hand Christian Bale a cough drop after a take.

My God, It Even Has a Watermark

Now, I don't have business cards. Big surprise. What would they say?

But I'm considering getting them. Just imagine it. The subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. My God, it'd even have a watermark. All it would say is:

Why do I need this ridiculously flashy business card? Well, since "Pineapple" is the new, hip thing, it also has its own music. Which just happens to be the same music in the make up counter right beside the misses counter. A customer walked up to me the other day and said "I don't know how you can stand three different songs playing." I was rather confused since I usually only hear two (the make up/ Pineapple stuff and the normal store music). She must have noticed the look on my face and continued on with "You know, the make up, that one (pointing at "Pineapple") and the stuff in the rest of the store." At this point I was somewhat sick of this lady. I'm sure she was a perfectly nice person, but we just hear stuff like that all day. It wears on you a bit after awhile. So I explained to her that they were actually the same song. The sound system in the "Pineapple" area is actually a lot better than the make up counter's and the bass is set at different levels. Also, the ceiling being lowered in the make up department, along with the walls around it (it's a "store within a store") makes the reverb a little different. All of these factors make it sound like it's two different songs, but if you listen closely, it's actually the same one. The customer just stared at me wordlessly... and that is why I need my business cards. That would have been the perfect moment to just hand the customer a card and it would have explained everything. Hopefully they would also figure out that I'm rather disgruntled in the job and stop asking stupid question or saying stupid things... but that's giving the customers too much credit.

I am on a drug. It's called Charlie Sheen.

Thank you, Charlie Sheen. I don't know if you've been my muse or what the hell is going on, but I have been in a crazy writing mood lately. Mayhaps part of the reason is I want to dish out as many posts as I can so I can link to them on facebook using Charlie Sheen quotes to entice people to read them before they get buried in the pop culture graveyard (as long as old Charlie boy doesn't go with them). Usually when I work so many days straight, I go into a bottomless void of depression and do incredibly stupid things. But now over the past couple days, I sit down in front of my laptop and type my little heart out. And the only thing that seems to correlate with this new-found inspiration is Charlie Sheen's mental breakdown/ drug binge/ media circus/ being a total, bitchin' rockstar from Mars. So maybe I am still a little bit disconnected from people... and reality, but you can't understand my mind. And you never will. So, thank you, sir, for being who you are... with your tiger blood and adonis DNA

So, here are a few of my favorite WINNING things:

http://mediumlarge.wordpress.com/2011/02/24/cats-quote-charlie-sheen/

http://www.livethesheendream.com/

http://a1135.g.akamai.net/f/1135/18227/1h/cchannel.download.akamai.com/18227/podcast/PITTSBURGH-PA/WDVE-FM/Charlie%20Sheen_Winning%20Song.mp3

Fruit Wars Episode 2: Attack of the Cougars

God might have gotten to rest on the 7th day of creation, but I was still stuck in my own personal hell. On the last day of my seven day stretch, I can't hide how aggravated I am with people anymore or how depressed I am that I'm still stuck in that horrible place. Drinking before work doesn't help a lot and I fear if I continue, the thing filter between what I think and what I say will finally collapse. And that would not be a good thing... although I might be able to collect unemployment that way. Duh. Winning.

I even had to miss my senior citizen movie time due to being stuck in the hellhole. It's not even like I could be scheduled late so I could see the latest moving picture with some of the original hipsters at the early bird special. But, no. I had to spend the day with the angry old biddies. Like the one that came up to me questioning me about the $2.97 items vs. the $4.97 items. It's easy. Shirts are $2.97, pants and suit jackets are $4.97. A whole $2 more that a lot of people don't want to pay. Then she told me about how other stores had their coats at $20, but ours were still $30 or more. I'm glad that she toured the other hellhole department stores in the area, but I can't do anything about the prices in mine.

An update on the "Pineapple" line, which was supposed to bring the young hip cats into the store- or at least the America's Next Top Model (skinny edition) rejects. But the only people who seem to be interested in the clothes are our usual customers- the middle age, slightly overweight "fashionistas" who wear clashing patterns, shoes that would make Lady Gaga grimace and enough make up to make you question if she was actually born female. Now, there's a lady who is organizing a fashion show for "Pineapple" and had to exchange a size 2 pants for a size 6. The model who was supposed to wear them wore a size 2 in Express and New York & Co. I can't wait to see these wannabe cougars squeezing themselves into these clothes.

I'm like the kid in the Volkswagen commercial!

I spoke to my father after the idiotic exploits of yesterday and how the store seems to be a magnet for the morons and the crazies. His response? "The snow melted, the idiots can find their way out of their houses and through the village now." Thanks, dad for not only passing on your narcissism, but your sarcasm as well. Oh well, I'm still winning... at least according to Charlie Sheen.

I can't afford to hide this anymore. I've tried not to say anything about her until now. When I started this, I said I wouldn't talk about any associate or manager, unless it was a good thing or just a brief mention. But there is one associate that I seem to work with all the time who I can absolutely not stand. There's always one and I just seem to get stuck "working" with her most of my shifts. I can't point out exactly what it is I don't like about her, so let's just say that it's a clash of personalities. Everyday it seems like she has a different ailment- a lot of the time it goes back to menopause, which I really don't want to hear about. Today's complaint was she felt like something was choking her. It was then I realized that I have harnessed the power of the Force!

Since I'm at least a Jedi in training, I decided to try the Jedi mind trick on a few customers. The cheapskates that shop at that store rejoice during the $1.97-$2.97 time.... which just happens to be right now. They bring piles of junk and ugly clothing up to the register exclaiming what a bargain they found. As you can imagine, this gets old very quickly- it's even worse when their eyes are glued to the signature pad, checking the prices. None of the stuff rings up to be $1.97 because the computer only recognizes it as 80% off so we have to manually change it. You can explain to the customer once that you have to change it at the end and they'll still point out everything that rang up too much- as if I would try and make the store more money. So I decided to try my power using the Jedi mind trick. Every time they said something wasn't $2.97, I would look directly in their eyes, move my hands slightly and say "It is $2.97." And everyone stopped questioning me. Found a new trick I have. To control customers it makes it easy, hmmmm...

May the Force be with you.

Jeepers Creepers!

I thought Halloween was over and I would be able to hunt leprechauns now... or at least capture a little person from the wild and tame them. Unfortunately, few ghouls from All Hallow's Eve seem to have slipped through the cracks...

Jeepers creepers! This person was a peeper... of the tom variety. I knew it was going to be a weird day when I looked in my rearview mirror and saw that the person behind me was taking a picture of my car's rear end. I suppose that it could have been worse, but it was still odd. And it just got worse...

Jeepers, creepers! These customers want my peepers. Two women walked up to the register with piles of stuff. It's always the people you don't want to talk to that have piles of stuff. I rang up two or three items when out of nowhere the one woman says "I'm getting plastic surgery done." I had no idea how to respond to that random statement so I just said "Oh. Wow. That's scary. Errr...wait, any surgery scares me." The customer continued on with "I'm going to have your eyes." Not "eyes like yours." No, "YOUR eyes." It began quietly at first, but then the song just crescendoes in my head, "Jeepers, creepers... where'd you get those peepers?" Images of this customer waiting for me in the parking lot ready to scoop my eyeballs out flashed through my mind. So the only response I had was "Your eyes are brown." I thought it couldn't get any worse, but then she responded with "I can get contacts. I've always wanted big blue eyes and I'm going to get them." Luckily, I made it home with my peepers intact and still inside my head. If I see her again, I am locking myself in a fitting room with a butcher knife.

Jeepers Creepers! I can't think of anything else that rhymes... The next round of ghouls were right out of a Dickens novel. They entered the store with the intent of finding something for a relative to be laid out in. One of the associates suggested pajamas, which they didn't like and beelined straight to the $2.97 rack. The poor associate who was helping them spent over an hour with people who probably believe they are total bitchin' rock stars from Mars. Then they proceeded to my register with piles of clothes. It's always the people you don't want to talk to who have piles of clothes. Then, like the looters at the end of A Christmas Carol, they started talking about the will and who was going to get what. And do they really have to pay for the wake? Why do they need an open casket? She looks horrible. Oh, and the funeral was on the one girl's birthday, which is horrible... but she was upset because she couldn't go out after. I only hope that she is planning on drinking her sorrows. I don't care if grandma was the female version of Ebenezer Scrooge, have some respect. And to the girl, who appeared a few years older than me- you should count yourself lucky you had a grandparent around so long.

In honor of the month of St. Patty's day, I will be drinking before work tomorrow. Hopefully it will attract a leprechaun... or at least the crazy (sometimes drunken) Polish lady to come back downstairs and dance.