There is No Exit Sign

It's always the people you don't want to talk to that linger around the register the longest. And after almost a week of rain, having the weekend off vacationing in heaven (Cleveland) at an amazing Airborne Toxic Event show, where I learned some awesome new dance moves from some cougars, I was not in the mood to deal with customers. You know life is bad when you're longing for Cleveland.

Now, I am sure this woman was a very nice person. She was certainly friendly enough and she like to talk... in the vocal stylings of Fran Drescher with a Pittsburgh accent that brought childhood nightmares of The Nanny. And of course this woman was buying a mountain of clothing and had to comment on every single item and had a stack of coupons she had to read out loud. You know it's bad when you're straining to hear Katy Perry's "California Girls."

Then, in the middle of the transaction as if a very nasal "n'at" acted as a pied piper for the morons, a line of people appeared at the clearly labeled exit sign. A few wandered away before I could interrupt the nasal voiced lady, but the one who remained decided to argue with me that there is no exit sign. Finally, it all made sense. The one Starbucks worker did look a bit like Keanu Reeves... Neo?! Please, please let this actually just be The Matrix. No such luck. I'm still about 97% sure this is reality. Or is it? You know it's bad when you're starting question reality based on the stupidity of others.

Well, I let the customer stay beside "Not the exit sign" and called her over after Fran Drescher's evil cousin left. Well, Trinity walked up with a very nice 2 piece suit and asked if it was appropriate for an interview. You know it's bad when you're jealous of a dummy. (It's ok, I'll have the last laugh when I buy my suit for my next interview... a Robin suit... because I will totally be hired on The Dark Knight Rises.. and if not at least I could pretend to be Robin)