I find this disturbing.
While I am so inclined to kill you with my made-from-scratch-baked-goods they manage to THANK me. I want to eat their faces. Perhaps if they weren’t so fucking mongoloid there wouldn’t be a problem.
CUSTOMERS: When I look at you like your fucking stupid, there is a valid reason!
-Like when you owe me $30 and you hand me a $20 bill. Right. Let me just cover that $10 deficit because I have money justa falling outta my ass!
-I especially love how you think that just because I’m working at a liquor store I am scum. The dirt for you to tread upon. As though I have no plans in my life but to remain here and serve you. Newsflash fuckwad: you are not the center of my universe.
-I also enjoy those fucks who act as though it’s my job to serve them only. So when I’m cleaning the windows they don’t let me know they’re ready - they just huff their disdain loud as a freight train. Fuck your Nazi couch. I have other things that must get done – and no, I did not have eyes installed in the back of my head to serve you.
-These are generally the same fucks that will push their money towards me, as though I’m a prostitute they’re finished with. God forbid they might actually touch me if they handed me the cash. *gasp* they might get my human germs on them. Truly unforgivable.
-These little treasure troves of bullshit are also the ones who will look at the EFT machine to their right. Observe that it is the proper place to slide their debit/credit card and push the card across the counter to me. Apparently I have SLAVE carved upon my forehead.
-Don’t get me wrong, I do not mind if you hand me your card because you overlooked it. You are just fine. It’s the ones who expect me to: slide their card, select the payment type [apparently I have publicly known about ESP], and approve the amount. Sure I’ll approve the amount, for an extra $50 dollars fuckface.
-I also love the genetically deprived cluster of fuckups who come in to shoplift. From me. Especially the old man who steals BOXES of Glenlivet. Sure, that bulging square beneath your coat is natural….right. When I catch you I’m taking your balls cocklick!!
-And you – you mutant-corn-gobbling-zombie-jack-ass – the person who comes in to make my life a living hell. How could I do my job without you!?! This special ray of sunshine whose parents should have settled on masturbation is the “guy” who will come in and berate my prices, my selection – and buy something anyway – so he can berate me.
-Let us not forget that special man! The one who knows you think he’s sexy. Yes that scrawny-missing-teeth-hasn’t-bathed-in-a-year-thinks-milk-is-heavy stud muffin. Boy. You are scrumdiddelyumptious. Let me tell you.
And you wonder why I cringe and swear like a sailor with Tourette’s whenever that bell rings…
