YummY! Down on This

Archive for March, 2010

Fair warning, there will be a racial slur in this post, but this was too much to NOT post.  Names  will be kept to first initials to protect the innocent, and the not so innocent.

So, today we had something happen at work that left all of us who work there with our mouths open in shock.  It was a simple thing really, just something that was said.  No blood was spilled, nobody was fired, nobody was arrested, but if some of us had our way something more dramatic should have happened.  Someone should have had the holy heck slapped out of them.

There was  a woman who came in today with a pair of scissors, and was snipping bits of our ribbon by the yard off on her own.  Not intending to buy them.  She was taking “samples.”

C, one of our newer girls, asked P, “Is she allowed to do that?”

No, she’s not allowed to take free samples of items we SELL, and P went to tell her so.  The lady said that E lets her do it all the time.  E would not do such a thing either.  She’s very against customers stealing from us.

Anyway, long story short, they tell the lady she can’t do it.  She gets mad at P and asks to see a manager.  Well P is a manager, and told the lady, “I AM a manager, and you can’t just come in here and cut pieces off our ribbon.”

Later E is back at her station and the lady came up to her and said, “You know, I like that little red headed girl.  But I don’t like that other one.  She came up and got all NIGGER on me!”

E was aghast.  “I’ll have you know,” she told the customer, “that she is a VERY good friend of mine!”  Which is true.  P and E are very close friends.

The customer gave E a disgusted look and left.

Hopefully she’ll never come back.

E said she was more than ticked off.  She said she was also disgusted that the lady felt like it was OKAY to just call P a nigger to her, just because they were both white.

P said next time the District Manager comes in she should ask him how to properly react when a customer calls her a nigger.

Todays post is brought to you by the number 51 and the letter G.

AT WORK

Last night I had to close at work.  I’m closing 3 nights a week now (except for the weekends I’m off, cause one of my closing nights is Sunday) and I hate closing because so much of it involves cleaning up the crap that has been left behind by hundreds of shoppers in a given day.

One of the first things I had to clean up last night was barrets.  We have recent gotten a barret/hairbow section with our ribbons.  Customers have been asking for such things forever, and now its there.  Of course the first thing they do is trash it.

I counted them.  I often count things when I have to put up lots of them.  It helps ease the tedium….and prove I can count over 10 without using my toes.

Last night I had to pick up 51 packets of barrets/bows and re-hang them.

I don’t know if it was one person who pulled them all off.  A bored child maybe.  Or the work of several customers over the course of the day.  But that was a lot of putting back I had to do!

AT HOME

Do babies come with a warranty?

Do husbands?

Seriously, one or the other of them is going to have to go, because taking care of both of them is starting to make me pull my hair out.

Not really.  I’m not pulling it out, its falling out on its own.  In handfulls.  Its stress related.  It usually only happens around the holidays, when work is killer.

Speaking of the baby…

Parker turned 4 months today.  Okay, he’s probably a little under 4 months seeing as how February is oe of those short ones.  But he was born Nov. 18th, so his month-days are always the 18s for me.

We threw him a surprise party:

And afterward we threw him in a zoo cage full of rabid farm animals.  They have photographic evidence that we’re bad parents, but it was worth it to be on the 6 o’clock news.

PS

In case my subject/title confused you, its in reference to Prince’s song “Raspberry Beret” whose lyrics I’ve always misunderstood.  It’s a funny people, humor me and laugh.

PSS

No farm animals (or babies) were hurt in the process of creating this blog entry.