You know your day will start off interesting already when:
Do I LOOK Like I'm On the Clock?
Fair enough if I'm wearing my super high fashionable Aid of Rite polyester smock thing with my name on it; I can see where you would get a bit confused. But I think that if I have my purse and several items to buy in my hand that that's somewhat a sign that I might be leaving? I got swarmed by a few different people on my way out the door, asking for plates, charcoal, and whining about the pharmacy being closed because it's 4th of July Monday. But coming in, when I'm not even wearing said fashionable smock and coming out the doors in the back with keys and boxcutter in hand, ready to go to work, I still get swarmed. WTF?
NOT MY NAME
Yes, my nametag is prominently displayed on my chest. No, my name is not "Shorty". It is also not "<Smalferin>". And I am also not your buddy buddy. You smell. Go away.
A Wild Sunday Lady Appears!
Ah god, I forgot how fun dealing with crazy people are-just listening to her logic brightens my day. It involved the US, the state of NH, she trying to prove herself to people who hold her back, and possibly catfish with catnip. Oh, and unnecessary brain surgery and how people with brain tumors are being lied to and the doctors only do surgery for fun.
Yes, The Pharmacy Is Closed
No, I will not open it for you. No, I am not a trained pharmacist. No I will not get your prescription. I don't even have the key or the faintest clue how to ring up your precious pills. You should've done it yesterday when the pharmacy was open. Oh, wanted to relax with family? Sorry. You still should've done it yesterday.
MY CARD, IT'S MY PRECIOUSSSSSSSS
Dear Lady with the lost EBT card,
Really? You lost it a week ago and didn't think to call until today, Foodstamp Day to ask about it? Also: thanks for just hanging up when I said I didn't have it, just a click in my ear. Next time see if I'm so helpful.
Say it with me kids, all in chorus: "A LACK OF PLANNING ON YOUR PART DOES NOT CONSTITUE AN EMERGENCY ON MINE".
George W. Bush Is A Big Fucking Meanie!
When you're a tranny, there's doing it wrong and doing it right. Let's compare:
Tranny at the beer cooler: Yes! Classily applied makeup, well maintained wig, high heels, doing a damn fine job of imitating a woman's walk, dehairified arms, chest well proportioned (most probably stuffed but done well), matching clothes (can't go wrong with tank top, jeans and jewelry), pleasant and awesome attitude! You're a doll to deal with!
Tranny who this story is about: NO! Looks like a man in women's clothes, talks like a man in women's clothes, walks like a man in women's clothes, wearing men's shoes, a pink and black lacy skirt, two thin camis that don't match said skirt or each other, ugly, tattered headscarf thing, no makeup, don't bother to shave anything (I can see that 5 o'clock shadow and it's ugly) and an attitude like sour milk.
I go through the motions, asking him about the "Healthiness+" card and then somehow me telling him to have a nice day turns into a 5 minute, mumbled diatribe about how Bush is a meanie, people are hypocrites, he's some sort of a Buddhist/Christian/Spiritualist, which makes him more authentic than 90% of the people who live anywhere in the world and everyone judges him and hates him.
"Ok! Have a good night! Next!"
"Mumble mumble I hate everyone mumble mumble" *shuffle off*
Fair enough if you don't like Bush, but I'm not your soundboard, k? Politics are like contagious diseases: best kept to yourself.
Do I LOOK Like I'm On the Clock?
Fair enough if I'm wearing my super high fashionable Aid of Rite polyester smock thing with my name on it; I can see where you would get a bit confused. But I think that if I have my purse and several items to buy in my hand that that's somewhat a sign that I might be leaving? I got swarmed by a few different people on my way out the door, asking for plates, charcoal, and whining about the pharmacy being closed because it's 4th of July Monday. But coming in, when I'm not even wearing said fashionable smock and coming out the doors in the back with keys and boxcutter in hand, ready to go to work, I still get swarmed. WTF?
NOT MY NAME
Yes, my nametag is prominently displayed on my chest. No, my name is not "Shorty". It is also not "<Smalferin>". And I am also not your buddy buddy. You smell. Go away.
A Wild Sunday Lady Appears!
Ah god, I forgot how fun dealing with crazy people are-just listening to her logic brightens my day. It involved the US, the state of NH, she trying to prove herself to people who hold her back, and possibly catfish with catnip. Oh, and unnecessary brain surgery and how people with brain tumors are being lied to and the doctors only do surgery for fun.
Yes, The Pharmacy Is Closed
No, I will not open it for you. No, I am not a trained pharmacist. No I will not get your prescription. I don't even have the key or the faintest clue how to ring up your precious pills. You should've done it yesterday when the pharmacy was open. Oh, wanted to relax with family? Sorry. You still should've done it yesterday.
MY CARD, IT'S MY PRECIOUSSSSSSSS
Dear Lady with the lost EBT card,
Really? You lost it a week ago and didn't think to call until today, Foodstamp Day to ask about it? Also: thanks for just hanging up when I said I didn't have it, just a click in my ear. Next time see if I'm so helpful.
Say it with me kids, all in chorus: "A LACK OF PLANNING ON YOUR PART DOES NOT CONSTITUE AN EMERGENCY ON MINE".
George W. Bush Is A Big Fucking Meanie!
When you're a tranny, there's doing it wrong and doing it right. Let's compare:
Tranny at the beer cooler: Yes! Classily applied makeup, well maintained wig, high heels, doing a damn fine job of imitating a woman's walk, dehairified arms, chest well proportioned (most probably stuffed but done well), matching clothes (can't go wrong with tank top, jeans and jewelry), pleasant and awesome attitude! You're a doll to deal with!
Tranny who this story is about: NO! Looks like a man in women's clothes, talks like a man in women's clothes, walks like a man in women's clothes, wearing men's shoes, a pink and black lacy skirt, two thin camis that don't match said skirt or each other, ugly, tattered headscarf thing, no makeup, don't bother to shave anything (I can see that 5 o'clock shadow and it's ugly) and an attitude like sour milk.
I go through the motions, asking him about the "Healthiness+" card and then somehow me telling him to have a nice day turns into a 5 minute, mumbled diatribe about how Bush is a meanie, people are hypocrites, he's some sort of a Buddhist/Christian/Spiritualist, which makes him more authentic than 90% of the people who live anywhere in the world and everyone judges him and hates him.
"Ok! Have a good night! Next!"
"Mumble mumble I hate everyone mumble mumble" *shuffle off*
Fair enough if you don't like Bush, but I'm not your soundboard, k? Politics are like contagious diseases: best kept to yourself.
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