Bulging packages. Yeah, I said it.

Alright, so work was slow today. Really slow. So slow, that I spent 2 hours detailing the men's sweats. Happily.

Prior to that, however, I asked my boss what she wanted me to do. She told me to fill the men's underwear.

Can I just stop for a moment and dwell on how pervy I feel filling men's underwear? It's not that I feel weird touching the packages that hold the scraps of cloth that will eventually be spending quality time with some stranger's private areas (though now that I'm thinking about it like that, it doesn't make it any better, either), but mostly the problem is this: the packages are covered in men in underwear. And not their faces either, oh no, it's a whole big crotch-shot party in the men's underwear section. Nothing but bulging packages all around me (pun completely and shamelessly intended). I pick up a package of underwear, my hands are all over some dude's crotch.

I do have to say, though, that it make me laugh when I'm stocking underwear and teenage guys come in to the department. Some of them try to mess with me (and I mess with them right back), but most--especially the ones with their mothers--try to avoid whichever aisle I'm currently in, grab the first semi-acceptable thing they can while fastidiously avoiding eye contact, and leave as silently and quickly as possible.

I have to to giggle a little when that happens.

And then there's the guys, like the proceeding one, who think they'll have some fun with me and get the tables turned on them.

I'm stocking t's, which are right next to the underwear.

Dude: "Hey, can I ask you something?"
Me: "Sure. What can I help you with?"
Dude: "Well, I was just wondering, do you think I'd look good in these?"
[Holds up a package of men's thongs.]
[I look him up and down.]
Me: "Oh yeah, you could definitely pull it off."
[said with complete sincerity]

He blushed, stuck the thongs back on their hook, and walked away. Don't mess with me, boys. I have four brothers, and spent 3 of my 4 years of college practically living in my husband's fraternity house. You aren't going to make me blush.

Still, I feel like a perv fondling all the underwear packages of models who are obviously toting an extra sock or two around in their drawers.

Short and unsweet.

Apparently, I look tired. Like, ALL the time.

For the last 4 days, someone had made a comment about how tired I look at work.
Yeah, I'd say I'm tired. For 6 days in a row, I've had to work 7-9 hour shifts of running my disgruntled ass all over your damn store to pick up grumpy people's layaways, restock the entire infant section, go pick up my own shoe freight from receiving and cart it back to my stockroom so I can actually do my job.

"You look tired."

Headaches and carpal tunnel attack today. Incapacitatingly painful heart palpitations for the last 3 days.

Kiss my bum. And then give me a day off. KThxBye.

Reality doesn't accept returns.

Today, some man got pissed at me because I made a mistake ringing up his transaction, which caused him to be delayed (he was "kind of in a hurry") and have to go through a manager to get a correction.

This weekend my Grandpa told me he was ready to die.

Reality handed me a big, fat check. And I lost sympathy for this other guy's slight inconvenience on an idle Wednesday.

Lots of random, with a side of fur.

I honestly thought that working in retail during the holiday season would completely dampen my Christmas spirit and ruin it for me. But thankfully, it hasn't. Granted, I'm a little sick of flannel pj's and thermal underwear, but for the most part, I love all the Christmas-y stuff.

I put up my Christmas lights yesterday. The weather and I are fighting. Two days ago, when I had to work, it was a beautiful day. Warmer, sunny, light breeze. Yesterday, my day off and the designated "put up the damn lights already" day was cold, windy, and to top it off, it began snowing halfway through my endeavors. Grrr.

Also, I was a complete dunce and strung the lights up backwards. So I was left with two female ends when I wanted to plug them in. Dumbass, that's me.

I also got in a fight with the landscaping, and lost miserably. The neighbors probably think I'm special ed.

Oh man, today's little nugget of joy from the 'mart:
(Lame advertisement on the PA about the pharmacy carrying pet medications)
"At the KMart Pharmacy, we're here for every member of your family, even the furry ones."
My head: "EW. Furries."

And then I laughed out loud. The shoppers at Kmart probably think I'm special ed too.

I survived Black Friday! Too bad not everyone escaped unscathed.

Today's entry shall be expressed in limerick:

One day at my boring old store,
Some bitch stole a purse and walked out the door.
But they chased her down
And called the cops around.
And I laughed my ass off when they cuffed her took her away.

The end.