Warning - I try not to swear in my blog normally but today I'm making a major exception. If you don't like reading curse words do not continue. If you are prone to cursing like a filthy pirate's whore please continue. Also, there is poop in this story...
I work in retail at present until I start teaching. To be more precise, I work in a bookstore. In this bookstore I deal with the magazines, which means I spend a lot of time in a dank back room tearing the covers of magazines and pricing the new ones.*
Yesterday, I rocked up to work, counting down the days until I finish, and wandered out to my little cave. The first thing I notice wasn't that someone had cleaned all the boxes out of my way. Nor was it the fact that it was so cold that I felt like running away. The first thing I noticed was the smell.
I looked at the stock delivery door and swore. Lifting the bar and unlocking the door I pushed it open, hoping for the best but expecting the worse. And there it was...
A big, fucking pile of SHIT. Human Shit. Some arsehole (pun intended) had stumbled round the back of our shop and decided that by our delivery door was the perfect place for a shit. And let me tell you, it was no small mess. I swear, this guy must have been walking fucking sideways if all that came out of his arse. Plus, when I opened the fucking door the shit smeared along the concrete making a perfect fucking shit rainbow on the ground.
What is even more strange was that nestled, almost protectively, around this pile of shit was a pair of jeans!
I really wish I was joking but I had to clean it up. And it gets worse, we don't have any products for cleaning up shit...we're a bookstore, it's not one of our top worries. Paper cuts, yes, but shit... So, about this time yesterday morning I was crouched over a pair of shitty jeans scraping up the larger pieces with two bits of cardboard and some newspaper.
I'm pretty tolerant of most things but I gagged at this. And no, I don't get hazard pay though I think I deserve it.
Until Monday...
P.S. I apologise if you are eating while reading this but it was pretty nasty...
P.P.S - to the guy who actually did this shit - there is a special place in hell for you. I don't even believe in hell but there is a special place just for you.
*So far I don't resemble Gollum but it could happen...being alone in a dank room...
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Friday, 1 July 2011
Friday, 17 June 2011
Quick update 1.0
Something happened today that I can't really talk about right at this moment, needless to say, it was very interesting and very stressful - though stressful in a good way, I think. When I can talk about it freely I will.*
As promised, I have started to blog on a regular schedule and then today comes along and I realise that I have nothing of interest to say and my brain is feeling a little run down from all the early morning starts that I thought I would ramble for an age. Isn't that a nasty little run on sentence.
Plus I, stupidly, over extended at the gym and have damaged my back in the most stupid of ways. So now I am hobbling around the house looking more like Igor and less like the normal awkward person that you might encounter on the street. My dad tells me that the best cure for a sore back is to go for a major dump...my dad is rather charming but I somehow get the feeling that it isn't really a medical cure for bad back.
I am using this as my excuse for why I am currently watching a chick flick. I hate chick flicks because they always give this over the top romantic plot line that is too bloody cheesy and then I find myself getting really into the plot line before having to remind myself that love is just a chemical reaction created in an attempt to remind people of their biological imperative in life...yes I am one of those random people who doesn't really believe in 'love' ... It is a little more complicated than that but I'll leave it at that for the moment.
Anyway, I'm going to take some strong painkillers and then I'm going to curl up and watch some more really cheesy movies while trying to comprehend everything that has happened in the last week. So, that's my Friday night...
Until Monday - when I'll hopefully have a better, more prepared post...have a great weekend you amazing people you!
*Yes I feel like a dirty, dirty tease.
As promised, I have started to blog on a regular schedule and then today comes along and I realise that I have nothing of interest to say and my brain is feeling a little run down from all the early morning starts that I thought I would ramble for an age. Isn't that a nasty little run on sentence.
Plus I, stupidly, over extended at the gym and have damaged my back in the most stupid of ways. So now I am hobbling around the house looking more like Igor and less like the normal awkward person that you might encounter on the street. My dad tells me that the best cure for a sore back is to go for a major dump...my dad is rather charming but I somehow get the feeling that it isn't really a medical cure for bad back.
I am using this as my excuse for why I am currently watching a chick flick. I hate chick flicks because they always give this over the top romantic plot line that is too bloody cheesy and then I find myself getting really into the plot line before having to remind myself that love is just a chemical reaction created in an attempt to remind people of their biological imperative in life...yes I am one of those random people who doesn't really believe in 'love' ... It is a little more complicated than that but I'll leave it at that for the moment.
Anyway, I'm going to take some strong painkillers and then I'm going to curl up and watch some more really cheesy movies while trying to comprehend everything that has happened in the last week. So, that's my Friday night...
Until Monday - when I'll hopefully have a better, more prepared post...have a great weekend you amazing people you!
*Yes I feel like a dirty, dirty tease.
Saturday, 11 June 2011
Working Girl...not that kind though...
My posting may get a little erratic over the next few days as I slowly re-join the world of the employed again. This may or may not be by choice rather than by the huge student loan which is sitting on my shoulder taunting me with the knowledge that I have a BA in English and History - so not really the most employable subjects.
In the meantime I am back at my old job at a bookstore. This is good and bad because I actually really like books and I, honestly, like helping most people. There are, however, some people that I definitely do not like to help so, of course, these people make a beeline for me. I'm starting to wonder if I have a huge neon sign flashing above my head directing these people in my direction. These people being, generally, middle to late aged people who have never worked retail a day in their life. Or, my personal favourite, new mothers.
Before you get on your high horse I will state straight off that 95% of all my customers are lovely, kind and helpful. Then there is the 5% that make me want to repeatedly headbutt a brick wall for twelve hours straight.
There are five types of customers that irk me and I shall list them below.
New Mothers
I like babies as much as the next person - even more so when I don't have to deal with them for longer than a few minutes. Sure your baby is gorgeous and I'm sure that, at 8 weeks he is incredibly advanced for his young age. I'm sure that his first word was discombobulate. But please, don't bring your 4x4 pram into our store and complain loudly that our shelves are too close together. Don't demand to see the manager because we don't have 20 copies of the baby book that you want to gift all your friends. Don't even think of ramming me in the legs with that pram either. Plus, I'm watching your brats to make sure they don't steal anything as they run up and and down the store screaming and pulling books off the shelves...
Too Cool Hipster
I'm so sorry we don't have the latest biography on Che or Noam Chomsky's latest book. Also, we don't have a Starbucks in store. Sorry that our chain bookstore is not 'cool' enough for you. By the way, do you even know who Che is? Do you know that Starbucks is a chain as well? Kinda thought that was the thing you were against?
Middle Aged Women
Oh, you're going to be haughty to me? I'm sorry that I am very much beneath your socio-economic standings. Oh, you want the latest book by Nora Roberts? Sure, if you'll follow me? Oh, sure, you'd rather stay there while I run around like an errand dog? That's fine. I'll bring over every book we have on the art of sushi.
You saw that book on television last week and there was a picture of a dog on it? Do you remember the author? No? All right. Um. Do you remember anything else? No. Sorry, can't help you there. What? You want to speak to my manager. Okay, I'll just get them for you.
Middle Aged Men
Sir, can you please stop staring at my chest. You were after a book? Sir, my eyes are up here. You were after a book about...? Sports? Sir, I'm going to ask one more time, please stop staring at my breasts!
Vague Shoppers
So, you're after that book that was reviewed a month ago by the radio station in the States. No, I'm not aware of it. It's about what? Let me get this straight. You want to know if we have the book about the person who goes to the place where they dance and then they decide to move there? Yeah I'm going to need more to go on. Do you know the author or title? I'm sorry, but our machine does need something a little more precise than that.
These are the five main customers that I rather dislike, though they do make the day interesting and they keep my on my toes. All the while I am smiling like the Cheshire Cat on speed while trying to make a good impression since the company I work for has just been recently taken over, and, although it's just a job, I'd rather not get fired anytime soon.
So, I'm about to relax on my sofa, chuck on a good movie and vege for the rest of the night. Any movie recommendations ?
In the meantime I am back at my old job at a bookstore. This is good and bad because I actually really like books and I, honestly, like helping most people. There are, however, some people that I definitely do not like to help so, of course, these people make a beeline for me. I'm starting to wonder if I have a huge neon sign flashing above my head directing these people in my direction. These people being, generally, middle to late aged people who have never worked retail a day in their life. Or, my personal favourite, new mothers.
Before you get on your high horse I will state straight off that 95% of all my customers are lovely, kind and helpful. Then there is the 5% that make me want to repeatedly headbutt a brick wall for twelve hours straight.
There are five types of customers that irk me and I shall list them below.
New Mothers
I like babies as much as the next person - even more so when I don't have to deal with them for longer than a few minutes. Sure your baby is gorgeous and I'm sure that, at 8 weeks he is incredibly advanced for his young age. I'm sure that his first word was discombobulate. But please, don't bring your 4x4 pram into our store and complain loudly that our shelves are too close together. Don't demand to see the manager because we don't have 20 copies of the baby book that you want to gift all your friends. Don't even think of ramming me in the legs with that pram either. Plus, I'm watching your brats to make sure they don't steal anything as they run up and and down the store screaming and pulling books off the shelves...
Too Cool Hipster
I'm so sorry we don't have the latest biography on Che or Noam Chomsky's latest book. Also, we don't have a Starbucks in store. Sorry that our chain bookstore is not 'cool' enough for you. By the way, do you even know who Che is? Do you know that Starbucks is a chain as well? Kinda thought that was the thing you were against?
Middle Aged Women
Oh, you're going to be haughty to me? I'm sorry that I am very much beneath your socio-economic standings. Oh, you want the latest book by Nora Roberts? Sure, if you'll follow me? Oh, sure, you'd rather stay there while I run around like an errand dog? That's fine. I'll bring over every book we have on the art of sushi.
You saw that book on television last week and there was a picture of a dog on it? Do you remember the author? No? All right. Um. Do you remember anything else? No. Sorry, can't help you there. What? You want to speak to my manager. Okay, I'll just get them for you.
Middle Aged Men
Sir, can you please stop staring at my chest. You were after a book? Sir, my eyes are up here. You were after a book about...? Sports? Sir, I'm going to ask one more time, please stop staring at my breasts!
Vague Shoppers
So, you're after that book that was reviewed a month ago by the radio station in the States. No, I'm not aware of it. It's about what? Let me get this straight. You want to know if we have the book about the person who goes to the place where they dance and then they decide to move there? Yeah I'm going to need more to go on. Do you know the author or title? I'm sorry, but our machine does need something a little more precise than that.
These are the five main customers that I rather dislike, though they do make the day interesting and they keep my on my toes. All the while I am smiling like the Cheshire Cat on speed while trying to make a good impression since the company I work for has just been recently taken over, and, although it's just a job, I'd rather not get fired anytime soon.
So, I'm about to relax on my sofa, chuck on a good movie and vege for the rest of the night. Any movie recommendations ?
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Hot Stuff and dressing like an Addams.
What song do you sing in the shower? Come on, do tell...it seriously can't be any worse than what I just found myself belting out. My songs of choice, today, just happened to be a melding of Donna Summer's Hot Stuff and All That Jazz from the musical Chicago. (For some strange reason I sounded like Rachel Berry - just not the singing talent. More of the 'I-can-rattle-off-seminal-Broadway-classics' Rachel.)
So, what do you find yourself singing in the shower?
Onto different news or non news if you want to view it that way. Although I would love to stay unemployed and writing full time a job has fallen into my lap. It is a job that I left five years ago when I decided that I needed to move overseas. I mentioned it briefly in my last post because it wasn't as much of a certainty as it is now which is why I find myself needing to go into town and hunt for black trousers. My job is at a bookstore but not one of those quaint, independent stores where you can let your inner hipster fly free* and wear whatever anarchistic shirt or whatever. This place is a nationwide company that has been in and out of the news lately and likes their employees to resemble beat poets from the 1960s...basically we have to dress in black.
I know black is supposed to be slimming but I'm a tad on the pale side** so wearing black is more than likely going to make me resemble either a vampire or Uncle Fester - just with more hair.*** I mean, the Addams family are pretty awesome but I don't know if I could pull off their look, you know. Anyway, I'm still of two minds about this job but it does mean that I will have regular money coming in...real money and not imaginary money so I might actually be able to afford something nicer than noodles in a cup...Oh the excitement I can barely contain it. Anyway, I've got to get going - toodle loo...****
*Not that I have an inner hipster - or any hipster for that matter...I'm pretty sure I fall squarely into the geek mold...
** I lie - I'm whiter than a frigging Cullen...damn my English heritage that makes me turn red but not tan.
*** I realise that I should have compared myself to Wednesday Addams rather than Uncle Fester - fail...
**** - I can't believe I wrote toodle loo...sigh...I need to get out more.
So, what do you find yourself singing in the shower?
Onto different news or non news if you want to view it that way. Although I would love to stay unemployed and writing full time a job has fallen into my lap. It is a job that I left five years ago when I decided that I needed to move overseas. I mentioned it briefly in my last post because it wasn't as much of a certainty as it is now which is why I find myself needing to go into town and hunt for black trousers. My job is at a bookstore but not one of those quaint, independent stores where you can let your inner hipster fly free* and wear whatever anarchistic shirt or whatever. This place is a nationwide company that has been in and out of the news lately and likes their employees to resemble beat poets from the 1960s...basically we have to dress in black.
I know black is supposed to be slimming but I'm a tad on the pale side** so wearing black is more than likely going to make me resemble either a vampire or Uncle Fester - just with more hair.*** I mean, the Addams family are pretty awesome but I don't know if I could pull off their look, you know. Anyway, I'm still of two minds about this job but it does mean that I will have regular money coming in...real money and not imaginary money so I might actually be able to afford something nicer than noodles in a cup...Oh the excitement I can barely contain it. Anyway, I've got to get going - toodle loo...****
*Not that I have an inner hipster - or any hipster for that matter...I'm pretty sure I fall squarely into the geek mold...
** I lie - I'm whiter than a frigging Cullen...damn my English heritage that makes me turn red but not tan.
*** I realise that I should have compared myself to Wednesday Addams rather than Uncle Fester - fail...
**** - I can't believe I wrote toodle loo...sigh...I need to get out more.
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