A Little About Me...

I'm just a 31 year old chick from Rhode Island, married to a Canadian, tattooed, childfree, and a World of Warcraft addict. I fancy myself a photographer, or an artist, but who am I kidding - I count pills and sell drugs to junkies.

Disclaimer

I write about everything. If you don't like it, if it's too personal, if you don't want to hear it, if it offends you, if it's about you, I don't care.

I'm selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control, and at times hard to handle, but if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.

Work and the Drama Queen

I had lesbians kissing at my booth today. I told Eddie this and the first thing he said was “You didn’t get pictures?”

“One of them was very butch,” I tell him. “The other one was hot though.”

“The you should have gotten a picture of them and photoshopped yourself over the butch girl,” he replies, as though I should have been thinking this myself.

I had a total bitch over there in the afternoon. She came up with her son’s cheapass prepaid phone and its charger and started in on me about how it’s only 4 months old and she called the warranty people who did some troubleshooting with her over the weekend and decided that it’s not a phone issue but a problem with either the charger or battery and that she should go to a store and get them to hook her up with a new battery. This is the same woman who chewed me a new one over the phone last weekend because if she called the warranty/replacement people during the weekend and they overnighted her a new phone that she still wouldn’t get her replacement until Tuesday because nothing ships on until Monday. Mind you, the problems with her son’s phone have been happening for 2 weeks and she’s just now calling about it.

So she comes in today and starts in on “You need to give me a battery.” I’m sorry, but if you come in with the attitude that you’re the Queen Shit of the High Turd Mountain, I’m not doing anything for you, even if it’s in my power. I don’t have room in my 3ft by 3ft Cubical of Solitary confinement to store the shit I actually need to have on hand, let alone batteries for a phone so shitty we don’t carry it any longer. We don’t carry batteries for any phone in my kiosk for that matter. Of course, she doesn’t want to hear this, because she’s the Queen Shit and I’m supposed to be the whipping boy of the moment and heaven help me if I decide to tell her majesty she can’t have her way. The last I heard of her, she was storming off proclaiming something along the lines of “I think it’s time to find a new service provider,” and “Your service is awful and I hope you’re fired,” and “She’s the anti-Christ, if you buy something from that girl your eternal soul is doomed to the fiery pits of hell, your children will grow up to be liberal politicians and your grandmothers will be turned into vampires.”

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2 Responses to “Work and the Drama Queen”

  1. Gravatar IconDon Says:

    So, just another day at the office then?

  2. Gravatar IconDon Says:

    So, you think YOU’RE having a bad day? :-)

    http://www.stuff.co.nz/stuff/0,2106,3256101a10,00.html

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