Okay, so I work for the Met Store. It’s a pretty cool job. Minus the bitchy old ladies who think that they have earned to be a bitch, with “time and experience.” Then there are those who that just because a person is in a retail position they deserve to be talked down to. But I’m not one of those people.
So on Saturday, which will go down in my life’s story as “The Day From Hell,” was pretty self-explanatory to say the least. The big guy came to visit our store, which has not been doing so hot, so we were all pretty nervous. Then one of the girls called in sick, so it was just the manager and myself. She had to meet with the big guy, so I had to work the Saturday floor by myself, which was one of the busiest days we’ve had since I’ve been there. Yay.
This women came in wanting to match a necklace with some earrings.
And then she snaps in this weird scolding rich lady way, “I don’t want to look like a goddamn christmas tree, get those away from me!’
It’s stuff like that that pisses me off.