Ever notice how it's the little things in life that amuse us so much? More to the point, ever notice how it's the silly little idiocies in life that amuse us more than anything else? Well, this is not as much ''the little blog that could'' as it is ''the blog that enjoys going up the down escalator in your local mall.'' Will it have anything of real importance? No, probably not. But enjoy the ride never the less!

 
Elucidean Rage

50 boxes of merchandise sent in from the Head Office.
1 small kiosk.
0 places for anything to sit, let alone walk.

I've never been good with math to begin with, and I believer earlier on in this little bit of nowhere I ranted about the restraining order Calculus and I filed against each other at the end of high school. I'm not ashamed to say that math is been victorious over me in a war of wills; I may be strong, but I have not the stamina to figure out what the inverse cosine of (dx) over (dy) is. You'd be lucky if I dared venture an answer like, "Tuesday?"

Subsequently, it would appear that the Head Office is following mathematical logic of another kind. To make a Lovecraftian reference, they probably checked out the specs for Ryleh and thought that our kiosks would conform nicely to the angles and dimensions. If only some sort of Old One would eat them.

Fifty boxes of merchandise (almost all of which are photo albums) cannot simply be stored out in the mall corridor. We tried. The fire marshall begged to disagree with us. The Customer Appreciation Pancake Maker begged to disagree with him. The first officers arriving on the scene begged to disagree with the pancake maker. And in the end I somehow evaded getting charged with anything.

So the result was that 50 boxes of merchandise (mostly photo albums) sat inside the kiosk, which doesn't have a lot of walking room in it to begin with. The boxes were at least stacked about chest-to-shoulder height on top of each other in a long, single row running the length of the kiosk's interior. So at least there was some form of narrow walking space. It still didn't stop one's chest getting crushed between boxes and the cash drawer whenever you made a transaction on the till.

Though I am considering patenting the concept as part of a slim-fast diet, or ab-cruncher exercise machine.

But at least we were able to start receiving all those pesky boxes, and put the merchandise either on display outside the kiosk, or store it amidst the understock inside the kiosk, yes? Well...that would have truly been a smashingly good idea...had the long row of boxes not been blocking access to most of the cupboards we could have used to store the box's contents in.

Not to mention that while roughly 150 odd photo albums are sitting in some, way, shape or form at our kiosk, the kiosk can only hold 70 comfortably at best. All empty space underneath the kiosk has been pretty much used up to store extra albums. We've been resorting to clearing as much space on the kiosk counter behind the displayed items at the front end as possible to make more room.

I left when only 1/3rd of the boxes had been opened, and 9/10ths of available storage were already used up. I'll have to visit the kiosk again tonight to help close it down--the disadvantage of being short-staffed due to college final exams being on, having part-timers who are college students taking said finals, and me being the top banana of the kiosk and having to actually assume some degree of responsibility.

I am going to be quite...irritable if Head Office sends us another 50 boxes of photo albums tomorrow. And my wife is suddenly Puu-ing behind me.

There she goes again: "Puu! Puu!"

So it's perhaps best that I stop ranting, and distract her from channeling the spirit of Mokona any further.

"Puu!"

Too late.

Today's Lesson: Cthulhu was right by eating them all first and not even bothering to sort any of 'em out, period.


posted by Phillip at 6:06 PM