I did something I don't normally do- I actually did work at the hell hole... and violated a bunch of mannequins while I was at it. No, really, I'm pretty sure I've become a registered mannequin offender so I have to go store to store to inform other clerks I'm in the mall.

For the past glorious month, I've been away from the register and away from customers, but unfortunately not away from stupidity. One lady looked me in the eye and told me she didn't know how to use an iron. I guess you can't have it all. In exchange for this escape, I basically had to do manual labor. Thanks to the new head honcho, a giant change was implemented in every store where we had to move everything around...including changing the mannequins- which somehow became my job. I shouldn't say "change the mannequins" because that would imply they were already clothed, but not these ones. Oh, no, they were all going commando. I walked in to work the one day to a whole army of plastic naked people. Women were appalled and began screaming at the sight. Children were covering their eyes and crying. Men were... well, the men kind of liked it. Especially when I had to dress the voluptuous plaster ladies and always ended up touching them inappropriately. But I'll get to that later. Customers were complaining for the two days of our little still life striptease... especially since we have a few mannequins who are slightly more anatomically correct than others. I began telling them it was a political statement and/or an art project.

These mannequins were my friends for two long, oh so sexy nights. I didn't even get a chance to buy them dinner before spreading their legs and...well, putting pants on them. I wish I did so then maybe I wouldn't have had to touch an inanimate nude human form till after the store closed. But, no, I had to start at the very front of the store... right in front of the men on the benches waiting for their wives. Boy, were they friendly. And, boy, did they not understand the concept of personal space... or at least mannequin changing space. See, the mannequins have magnetized limbs that can sometimes be difficult to take apart in order to dress them. My old man friend who decided to walk up and ask a bunch of silly questions could not comprehend this... so a mannequin arm came within inches of his face. This finally caused him to turn tail and head back to his bench...w here he still continued to watch intently. Well, at least the mannequin wasn't Kim Cattrall...