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Well... another week has gone by at the 9-13 and seen some fail. let's just get this over with.
I don't need no stinkin' ID
Had a couple ID fails this week.
First was a pair of youths... both were probably over 18... but damn...
First guy comes in, asks for a swisher, and *sighs* and just tears out of there when I ask for ID and he doesn't have it, next guy did, and got his blunty-goodness...
me: the bunny-what-suffers.
SC: where is we again?
thoughs: in italics
me: have a great afternoon.
SC: you know there's some (race) guys who wouldn't be so nice.
and your point is... oh I see, the gangsta's gonna come down on me... on the busiest street in town, where the cops come by every minute, ok, yeah.
second ID fail.
me: bunny who sometimes has a hard time guessing age.
C: guy who gave me a virtual slap upside the head.
Little background, this past Tuesday seemed to be a huge beer/smokes sale day.
so I got used to asking for ID.
me: can I see some ID please? *looks up and thinks oh dammit!)
C: just how old do you think I am? *hands over ID* I understand just doing your job.
me:
*guy was born druning WWII* was great to have someone understand it though.
but why?
So guy cam in, in one one of those $90 t-shirts by some artist/band/band member who also has a clothing line shirts... luckily I didn't have to deal with him.
FCC: Fals Caring Customer.
TGWTM: The Guy WHat Trains Me.
FCC: You could just give that (referring to some of our wasted product) to the homeless
TGWTM: Well we can't, health code regulations.
FCC: YEah just hide behind that
me (doing shift close duties):
FCC: Have a good one *SARCASM AT CRITICAL LEVELS*
TGWTM: (after he left) yeah maybe if you didn't spend $90 on a shirt, you could actually do something.
Yes, sucks we can't give out our waste product, but well, go volunteer in a kitchen, donate some of YOUR food to one of the many shelters in the area, or you know quit being an armchair activist.
The horror... the horror...
and then we come to today, and one of the few things that make me go
at this job... squishies... in particular how as TGWTM describes as savages...
now the squishies are slightly messy if you don't know what you're doing, so for kids under 9 I'm meh about having to clean up...
however after that damn you should have some idea, you HAVE hand-eye coordi...oh I see cell phone...... talking to friends... trancing out for no reason.... attaining samsara... anything but actually paying attention.
and even worse... oh this isn't what I want (half full XL squishie cup.)
and then today I saw the worst... first thing... second thing aaaaaaaand.... mess all over machine area... just a few errant drops of squishie... but damn people, there's a trash 2 feet from you, and you seem to have the manipulation skills of a mentally challenged amputee with Parkinson's who is blind... actually i shouldn't be so insulting, they have way more coordination, and no this wasn't a huge ammount of people... but three whole people... yes three... one being a rgular is good, the other handed me their wrapper.... so I doubt it was them.... probably you mr. 10 squishies which you purchased after getting me started then going back and forth to get 90 other things (ok slight exaggeration, was more like 5 squishies in the special higher priced cups, plus a bag of ice a large bag of chips (both of these at the other end of the store from the counter) aaaand finally $5 in mega millions (the powerball-ish washington lotto game)
so yes here's to you, please go home, and sodomize yourself with a rusty railroad spike... BTW nice example for your kids, "oh don't worry, THEY can clean up after you... yes we can, but we should HAVE to.
aaaaaaand jalapeno & cream cheese takeetoe time...
I don't need no stinkin' ID
Had a couple ID fails this week.
First was a pair of youths... both were probably over 18... but damn...
First guy comes in, asks for a swisher, and *sighs* and just tears out of there when I ask for ID and he doesn't have it, next guy did, and got his blunty-goodness...
me: the bunny-what-suffers.
SC: where is we again?
thoughs: in italics
me: have a great afternoon.
SC: you know there's some (race) guys who wouldn't be so nice.
and your point is... oh I see, the gangsta's gonna come down on me... on the busiest street in town, where the cops come by every minute, ok, yeah.
second ID fail.
me: bunny who sometimes has a hard time guessing age.
C: guy who gave me a virtual slap upside the head.
Little background, this past Tuesday seemed to be a huge beer/smokes sale day.
so I got used to asking for ID.
me: can I see some ID please? *looks up and thinks oh dammit!)
C: just how old do you think I am? *hands over ID* I understand just doing your job.
me:
*guy was born druning WWII* was great to have someone understand it though.but why?
So guy cam in, in one one of those $90 t-shirts by some artist/band/band member who also has a clothing line shirts... luckily I didn't have to deal with him.
FCC: Fals Caring Customer.
TGWTM: The Guy WHat Trains Me.
FCC: You could just give that (referring to some of our wasted product) to the homeless
TGWTM: Well we can't, health code regulations.
FCC: YEah just hide behind that
me (doing shift close duties):
FCC: Have a good one *SARCASM AT CRITICAL LEVELS*
TGWTM: (after he left) yeah maybe if you didn't spend $90 on a shirt, you could actually do something.
Yes, sucks we can't give out our waste product, but well, go volunteer in a kitchen, donate some of YOUR food to one of the many shelters in the area, or you know quit being an armchair activist.
The horror... the horror...
and then we come to today, and one of the few things that make me go
at this job... squishies... in particular how as TGWTM describes as savages...now the squishies are slightly messy if you don't know what you're doing, so for kids under 9 I'm meh about having to clean up...
however after that damn you should have some idea, you HAVE hand-eye coordi...oh I see cell phone...... talking to friends... trancing out for no reason.... attaining samsara... anything but actually paying attention.
and even worse... oh this isn't what I want (half full XL squishie cup.)
and then today I saw the worst... first thing... second thing aaaaaaaand.... mess all over machine area... just a few errant drops of squishie... but damn people, there's a trash 2 feet from you, and you seem to have the manipulation skills of a mentally challenged amputee with Parkinson's who is blind... actually i shouldn't be so insulting, they have way more coordination, and no this wasn't a huge ammount of people... but three whole people... yes three... one being a rgular is good, the other handed me their wrapper.... so I doubt it was them.... probably you mr. 10 squishies which you purchased after getting me started then going back and forth to get 90 other things (ok slight exaggeration, was more like 5 squishies in the special higher priced cups, plus a bag of ice a large bag of chips (both of these at the other end of the store from the counter) aaaand finally $5 in mega millions (the powerball-ish washington lotto game)
so yes here's to you, please go home, and sodomize yourself with a rusty railroad spike... BTW nice example for your kids, "oh don't worry, THEY can clean up after you... yes we can, but we should HAVE to.
aaaaaaand jalapeno & cream cheese takeetoe time...
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