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Omg omg omg omg.... I'm thinking about it and I'm feeling all tight in my chest.
I let a lot of things go. A LOT. I let mister 2breads touch my hands and shoulders. I let Oscar the Grouch LIVE. I let the store manager talk baby-talk to me.
I just ask for ONE thing. ONE.
DO NOT ENTER THE BAKERY WORKSTATION.
If you're not on my schedule, OR if you don't have a store uniform on, GTFO. Seriously. It makes me physically ill to see you and your germ filled hands walk your dandy ol self inside my workstation and MOLEST MY STUFF!!! I could get FINED because of YOUR stupidity and self-centered-ness!!!
*breathes*
Onto the story.
Her: Grocery Manager's girlfriend who seems touched in the head, in the dropped on the head as a child in hopes to kill her way. RUDE, Nombrilist, your normal SC basically.
Me: Diminutive cartoonist who doesn't want to see another apple pie for the rest of her life.
Her: *barges in the "customer-safe zone" of the bakery* Yeah, you got any baguettes? Got them? I want one. Got them made? Where are they? Baguettes? Hello? the ones in the white bags.
Me: Which ones, the "Tasty" brand or the "salty" brand?
Her: The white bag, you know, what are those? *points at oven*
Me: Those are "Tasty" Brand, they come in a white bag.
Her: Yeah, that's what I want, get me one of those. What's "salty" brand? is "salty" brand what I want?
Me: I didn't have time to make "salty" brand today, because of the pies. These ones will be ready in about...
Her: When will they be ready? will they be ready in 5 minutes? *points at timer* Then I'll go muck around then. I'll be right back.
Everything is pretty much verbatim, albeit translated from french.
Then it all goes downhill.
*5 minutes later* (Jeopardy doo doo doo)
Her: Wow I'm so well timed! They're ready! Hahahaha!
Me: *pulls out the baguettes... and STARE as that BIATCH walks straight INSIDE the employees only workstation and starts pulling out EVERY BAG from their cubbys!*
X infinity
Her: It's this one! *tugs wrong bag* no, this one! *tugs another wrong bag* It's THIS one, then! *same color bag, but still wrong bag* See? This one!
Me: *seething* Okay, listen....
Her: It looks like the right one, but it's too short!!
Me: *SNAP!* HEY! First of all, I do NOT like having you barge in my workstation!
Her: But I wanted...!
Me: Second of all, I do NOT like having you barge in my workstation and them PAW at my bags! get out!
Her: I wanted to show you what bread...
Me: When you get a job here and a uniform to match, then you can waltz in here, but since you don't, GET. OUT.
Her: Aw come on, you know me!
Me: *starts shoving her out* I don't care if you're *grocery manager*'s girlfriend or Mother Theresa, you are a customer, you don't work here, you don't have a uniform on, you have NO BUSINESS IN MY BAKERY! Now STAND THERE and I'll get you your baguette!
Her: *standing where I told her to, all offended." But I wanted to make sure you knew what I wanted! Come ooooooon! (french version of whiney Valley girl accent)
Me: I know what you want, stay put! *prepares baguette, gives it to her politely*
Her: Thanx.
Me: Have a lovely afternoon. *shit-eating grin*
Her: Oh, you too~!
I was SHAKING after that. Mostly rage, but also a bit of panic attack for having my personal space violated so suddenly. Not just that, like stated earlier, if a hygiene inspector would have come in just then, I would have been HEAVILY fined!
Oh, and if she complains to her precious bf about how I treated her?
His in-store nickname is Shrimp.
Me? I EAT seafood.
Enough said.
I let a lot of things go. A LOT. I let mister 2breads touch my hands and shoulders. I let Oscar the Grouch LIVE. I let the store manager talk baby-talk to me.
I just ask for ONE thing. ONE.
DO NOT ENTER THE BAKERY WORKSTATION.
If you're not on my schedule, OR if you don't have a store uniform on, GTFO. Seriously. It makes me physically ill to see you and your germ filled hands walk your dandy ol self inside my workstation and MOLEST MY STUFF!!! I could get FINED because of YOUR stupidity and self-centered-ness!!!
*breathes*
Onto the story.
Her: Grocery Manager's girlfriend who seems touched in the head, in the dropped on the head as a child in hopes to kill her way. RUDE, Nombrilist, your normal SC basically.
Me: Diminutive cartoonist who doesn't want to see another apple pie for the rest of her life.
Her: *barges in the "customer-safe zone" of the bakery* Yeah, you got any baguettes? Got them? I want one. Got them made? Where are they? Baguettes? Hello? the ones in the white bags.
Me: Which ones, the "Tasty" brand or the "salty" brand?
Her: The white bag, you know, what are those? *points at oven*
Me: Those are "Tasty" Brand, they come in a white bag.
Her: Yeah, that's what I want, get me one of those. What's "salty" brand? is "salty" brand what I want?
Me: I didn't have time to make "salty" brand today, because of the pies. These ones will be ready in about...
Her: When will they be ready? will they be ready in 5 minutes? *points at timer* Then I'll go muck around then. I'll be right back.
Everything is pretty much verbatim, albeit translated from french.
Then it all goes downhill.
*5 minutes later* (Jeopardy doo doo doo)
Her: Wow I'm so well timed! They're ready! Hahahaha!
Me: *pulls out the baguettes... and STARE as that BIATCH walks straight INSIDE the employees only workstation and starts pulling out EVERY BAG from their cubbys!*
X infinityHer: It's this one! *tugs wrong bag* no, this one! *tugs another wrong bag* It's THIS one, then! *same color bag, but still wrong bag* See? This one!
Me: *seething* Okay, listen....
Her: It looks like the right one, but it's too short!!
Me: *SNAP!* HEY! First of all, I do NOT like having you barge in my workstation!
Her: But I wanted...!
Me: Second of all, I do NOT like having you barge in my workstation and them PAW at my bags! get out!
Her: I wanted to show you what bread...
Me: When you get a job here and a uniform to match, then you can waltz in here, but since you don't, GET. OUT.
Her: Aw come on, you know me!
Me: *starts shoving her out* I don't care if you're *grocery manager*'s girlfriend or Mother Theresa, you are a customer, you don't work here, you don't have a uniform on, you have NO BUSINESS IN MY BAKERY! Now STAND THERE and I'll get you your baguette!
Her: *standing where I told her to, all offended." But I wanted to make sure you knew what I wanted! Come ooooooon! (french version of whiney Valley girl accent)
Me: I know what you want, stay put! *prepares baguette, gives it to her politely*
Her: Thanx.
Me: Have a lovely afternoon. *shit-eating grin*
Her: Oh, you too~!
I was SHAKING after that. Mostly rage, but also a bit of panic attack for having my personal space violated so suddenly. Not just that, like stated earlier, if a hygiene inspector would have come in just then, I would have been HEAVILY fined!
Oh, and if she complains to her precious bf about how I treated her?
His in-store nickname is Shrimp.
Me? I EAT seafood.
Enough said.
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