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!

 


Due to the unique if not wonky schedule of a retail store manager, I have to admit that the days of the week have almost completely lost their “feel” to me. There was a time where Wednesday had a sense to it, with that growing anticipation of the coming weekend off; or Tuesday, which was not as ‘blah’ as Monday, but was definitely no Thursday. Alas, nowadays I tend to think of my days as “working” or “not working.”

It’s sad, I know, but I’d like to think it has helped keep me sane all these years…well, sane as in “not likely to go axe-crazy homicidal today” sane. Considering the stories I’ve written and rantings I’m prone to doing, sanity is a relative term. But I digress.

Today was a Friday, and for once it had a very distinct feel about it. Specifically, it felt like last weekend, where over the span of two days I was about ready to shed the “not likely to go axe-crazy homicidal today” sanity, and all thanks in part to the crowds of strange people and aggravating customers.

The morning proved especially grievous. I should have recognized the ominous portents when our store was suddenly smashed by 40 boxes of stock. From there, I had the displeasure of contending with all sorts of bizarre & annoying customers. There were the people who seemed to think I was some sort of manservant from the 19th century, thusly meant to be bossed around constantly. There were the people who asked questions and blatantly ignored the answers I gave them, forcing me to answer the same question at least four times. And then there was the little old lady who peed on my carpet.

No, you didn’t misread that. And no, I’m not making this up, though I really, really wish I was.

To give you all the set up: an obviously older woman, probably in her 80’s at best, came in with a shopping cart. She looked around at a few things, trying on some hats in the mirror. After double-checking a price with me, she abruptly asked in a very casual voice, “Do you happen to know where the nearest bathroom is?”

I pointed down the hall and told her the foodcourt washrooms were just down there and around the corner.

To which she (again, very casually) replied, “Oh, that’s too far. I’m already peeing.”

At this point I’m sure the expression on my face was quite priceless. You’ve probably made this sort of face yourself every now and again. Your professional smile freezes, almost like a Blue Screen of Death, and you blink a few times as your brain attempts to replay that last sentence you pray you simply misheard.

As I tried to lurch myself out of my BSoD, the little old lady began wheeling her cart out of my store and down the mall corridor. Whereupon I looked down at the floor and realized with bemused terror that she was in fact starting to leave small puddles in her wake.

Now up to this point, our fresh new carpet had been unsullied by anything that could leave a permanent stain. The dirtiest it ever got was due to dust or some random bits of rock salt left behind by winter boots. But not anymore! It’s a hell of a way to christen the new carpet, that’s for damn sure. Then again, our old store carpet was christened in a near identical fashion by a four year-old. In light of this, I cannot help but wonder with morbid curiosity: if I go to work somewhere else, and there’s carpeting on that floor, who or what is going to pee on it this time?






(And yes, I cleaned up the mess as best I could immediately after.)

Labels: In which the little old lady pees on the carpet and I’m left to wonder if she was marking her territory

posted by Phillip at 5:55 AM

 


...with love, of course. Lots of fully automatic, high caliber love.

This past Saturday, there was a disturbance in the Force. And it mostly involved an army of squeeing pubescent girls. Turns out that at the Boathouse store across from us, an up-and-coming Canadian band was doing an autograph signing and acoustic performance: the Stereos. And many of you say, "Yay!"

The rest of you, like me, probably said, "Ya...who?"

I have to admit I'm rather thrilled with my ambivalence to the band, since there is no way in any of the nine levels of hell I would have been able to get up & close to them. I arrived at the mall at 9am; there were already over a dozen girls lined up waiting for the Stereos. Please bear in mind that the band wasn't due to arrive until 1pm. Over the next 4 hours, the line started to grow...and grow...and grow.

By the time noon rolled around, the line was easily three to four people wide, and stretched from Boathouse down the mall corridor, and around the corner. The line stayed like this for a solid 2-3 hours, even as the crowd moved forward to get their autographs. Now to be honest, I think mall security had it worse than me as they attempted to wrangle crowd control. Even then, the noise they generated was incredibly deafening. We had our radio on in the back of the store...and we couldn't hear it over the din. In a word: ...what did you say?

Okay, so that was four words. But the point still stands.

Mel, on the other hand, enjoyed her last day at the jewelry kiosk of unnamable madness. The only reason she took the Saturday shift was out of pity for her manager; had she not volunteered to take the shift, her (now former) manager would have been forced to work it and miss seeing Jersey Boys, which was a gift from her husband.

Naturally, we celebrated the last day of her job with pizza and some sparkling white wine. Now while I needed to work the following Sunday, Mel had the entire day off to enjoy herself. And how did she spend her first day no longer working at the kiosk? By getting called into the kiosk.

Yeah, figure that one out. You're probably making the same expression I did when Mel showed up at the mall shortly after everything opened, and gave me that response to my natural question: "What the hell are you doing here when you could be sleeping in?" Turns out there were 3 people from the kiosk who had keys: the manager (still out of town for the weekend), the new assistant manager (who apparently wasn't called, for some bizarre reason other than the probable fact that the universe likes to torment people) and Mel, who was originally supposed to turn in her keys on Monday.

Thankfully, a friend gave her a quick ride back home, whereupon she was able to curl up in bed with a book and napped for the afternoon. That, and also recovering from slight dehydration from drinking a whole bottle of sparkling white wine the night before.

To summarize: Saturday had far too much squeeing, and Sunday had too much "I'm not even supposed to be here today!" I hold high hopes that next weekend will not be a repeat...unless David Bowie's doing a signing, in which case I'll be out-squeeing the teenage girls. And that may not be too hard, since I fear too few teens know who Bowie is (aside from his crotch stealing the spotlight in Labyrinth).

Labels: the kiosk will never let you go (and watches you when you sleep), the rabid fangirls will kill us all with their squeeing

posted by Phillip at 7:04 PM

 


Last week Mel & I went to see the Chinese dance troupe "Shen Yun." You might have seen them in various malls promoting their shows; it's how we heard about them in the first place. My mother had given us tickets for Christmas, and we were both interested about seeing the show. Surprisingly, the seats were great: we were almost dead centre in the mezzanine, about 3 rows back from the balcony railing, giving us a wide vantage point to see not only the full group(s), but also some of their finer footwork.

The performance was fantastic, with multitudes of dancers doing things with hankerchiefs and fans that certainly boggled my mind. Poor Mel's mind broke down when the opening number started, and after taking one look at their multi-tone green costumers all she could think of was: "Oh look! Earth benders."

Mind you, I could have down without the rather in-your-face message of "Falun Dafa is good and will save the world!" I must admit to being of two minds on the matter. Considering how notorious China is in its persecution of non-conformist ideas & religions, I can see why a troupe consisting primarily of Chinese citizens would want to bring attention to how they're treated for believing in Falun Dafa. On the other hand, there's a fine line between "bringing attention to an issue you feel passionate about" and "bludgeoning your audience to death with your message."

All in all, a good evening was spent with live entertainment. It's been a while since we've been able to get out like that. I would have loved to check out Avenue Q when it was in Kitchener last November, but alas, the cash had to go to Christmas gifts for peoples. Then again we did manage to see Sherlock Holmes over the weekend ("Is it poison, nanny?"), so it's all good!

In other news, I think I have discovered one of the stupidest customers on the planet. Considering the number of years and customers I've encountered, this says something. She was in her late teens at best, and, I kid you not, had a voice like a valley girl and an attitude that was half-condescending half-not-even-there. She strolled into the store, and the following conversation ensued:

Customer: "Do you sell wallets?"

[I point to the bunk directly next to her.]

Me: "Right there."

Customer. "Oh. What kind of wallets do you have?"

[I point to the bunk again.]

Me: "They're all in that bunk."

Customer: "Do you have any nice ones?"

Me: "That depends on your preferences. What are you looking for?"

Customer: "Oh. Do you know where Boathouse is? I hear they have good wallets."

[I point to the store almost directly across from us.]

Me: "It's right behind you."

Customer: "Well...how much is this wallet?"

[She picks up a wallet.]

Me: "It should be inside the wallet. Here, I can check for--"


However, the customer had decided to check the price for herself. Now I need to explain about this wallet: it's a tri-fold wallet, with the front locked into place with a large metal clasp. This clasp turns 90 degrees in order to lock the wallet shut. And it's a very large, very obvious clasp. Well...theoretically it was a large and obvious clasp. No so much for this customer, though; she spent a good 30 seconds vainly attempting to pry the wallet open, not once pausing to consider that maybe, just maybe, she should tinker with the big metal thing sticking out from the front of the wallet.

30 seconds of aggravation later, she she angrily tossed the wallet aside, mumbled something that might have been a good-bye and stormed out. I had to spend the next five minutes eating my fist in an attempt not to laugh as hard as I wanted to. I can only wonder at how she'll survive later on in life, when reality requires her to use that pretty little mind of hers. God help her if she gets a roll of American dimes...

...and our cat is licking the carpet. Um, I should probably look into this. In the meantime, here are Spiderman and his Emo-Friends! (You can find the original art link here: http://worldfamousdesignjunkies.com/djunk/lost-and-found/attachment/emofriends/ )

Labels: customers are sometimes too stupid to even suck, emo friends, falun dafa is good and will save this tag from sucking, Shen Yun

posted by Phillip at 6:48 PM

 


It never fails, does it? You turn your back on the year for just a second, and suddenly it’s gone all 2010 on you. So far I haven’t seen any flying cars yet. This displeases me. (Imagine the sorts of carnage candy I’d get into with one of those babies in a GTA game.)

Normally, I’d be tempted to sit back to ruminate on 2009, weighing in on the best and/or worst moments this past year had to offer. The sad truth is, with a few glorious exceptions (like AN09, visits with friends & family, and seeing my new baby niece), 2009 will go down as being a near-complete psychopathic bitch who should be killed with fire. Lots of fire. And a flying car. This notion pleases both Mel and myself...though she’s shaking her head about the flying car part.

Maybe if the flying car was on fire….

Anyhoo, there was just a lot of aggravation zooming around this past year, and way too many dramallamas for my liking. The end result was a lot of unwanted--and dare I say, undeserved--stress divided evenly between me and Mel, depending on the situation.

But at least 2009 went out with a pleasant bang. Mel & I visited Kevin & Donna for some much-belated “hanging out” time. Gary managed to come in from TO as well, and along with one of Kevin’s friends we all sat back and enjoyed some movies like Zombieland (Twinkies for the win!). And Twilight.

Wait! You there with the pitchfork and torch! Hold on just a minute and let me explain! We saw the “Rifftrax” version of Twilight, not the original “sparklypoo” version. Is it sad when you begin to think that the stuffed armadillo sitting on a shelf in the biology classroom is the best actor of the entire cast?

The next day saw Gabe kicking my ass in Super Mario Wii…in the first world. Yes, I’ll admit with a great deal of chagrin: I was pwned by a 5 year-old. I hang my would-be gamer head in shame. Though the result was Today’s Lesson: don’t randomly jump into pits, thinking they might lead to secret passages. 99% of them will just lead to certain death.

So here’s to 2010: may the new year and new decade be a much happier one. OR ELSE. (Not that I really have any idea how to retaliate against the Gregorian calendar, other than the usual “no pants” threat, but I’m not entirely sure calendars fear a lack of pants on me…or anyone else for that matter.)

Though if there was anything resembling a resolution I wanted to make, it would have to be: settle back into a writing routine. I miss my writing and I miss my stories. Even the ones that involve this:



“On the other hand,” Chaos said, “this gives me some fresh material to add to my latest songfic: Arcadia of my Sonic Youth!”

Pesti-chan stared blankly at him before finally stating the obvious: “You’re an idiot.”

“But it’s Harlock, Pesti!” Chaos insisted. “And now he’s traveling aboard the Arcadia across the sea of stars with Sonic Youth. Sonic Youth!”

“Do you even know who Sonic Youth are?” asked Sarcasm.

Given the particularly caustic tone of her voice, Chaos paused and considered her question. “Aren’t they that tribute band for Sonic the Hedgehog?”

Labels: it's a little after the fact but this blog contains really bad puns

posted by Phillip at 4:29 PM