Fun With Morons!

I'm sure everyone knows someone like this: A person who is so convinced that 'animals love them', who tries SO hard to pet dogs that are terrified of them or are aggressive towards them? We have a customer just like this. I call him "The Dog Terrorizer". He is obsessed about petting our shop dogs (we all bring our pets to work.) He will even come behind our counter (!!!) to pursue a dog that wants nothing to do with him, even when said dog(s) are snarling and growling at him! It's amazing how stupid this asshat is. He's been told repeatedly that the dog(s) do not want any contact, yet he pursues any dogs that happen to be outdoors taking potty breaks if they are out when he arrives. He will pursue them inside the shop as well. He whistles at them, bangs the counter, snaps his fingers, barks at them, makes 'kissing' sounds at them, calls them 'Bad dog", etc. He's a LUNATIC!

About two months ago, he was in our store past closing. My dog knows when it is closing time, and follows me out from behind the counter to watch people out the windows and bark at them. It gives her joy to bark at 'trespassers'! Well, I'm trying to get this moron out of the store, but he sees my dog coming out from behind the counter and goes after her. She's barking and snarling and backing away from him, while also trying to protect me from this retard. DT, being the moron he is, keeps pursuing her despite every signal a dog can give that he's not welcome near her. I told him a couple of times that the door was open, let's go, but he ignored me. Finally I yelled at him, "GO! JUST GO!" And like an obedient dog, he went. If only that was his last visit. (A person of normal intelligence would most likely have been insulted at being yelled at and not come back. If only.)

He's been in several times since then, and normally I move to lock the dogs in the office if I see him come in. This jerk is beyond stupid, he will not take hints or direct requests to knock it off, it's like he thinks that the dogs staring him down and growling at him with upraised hackles are greeting him warmly! The fact that I've had to physically push him out from our restricted area behind the counter is also a factor. Last week I did not realize he was in the store until I heard my dog growling and heard him say, "Bad dog" to her. Since direct comments to this man don't faze him, I told him, "Those words are NOT allowed in this store." So he did shut up, I was surprised. However he did keep bothering my dog; she eventually layed down on her bed and ignored him (good dog!). To him though, a dog that is ignoring him is a reason to increase his use of noise to get a reaction. My brother and I were laughing about what to tell him in case he asked what her name is (as he always does to the dogs; why give him THAT tool?). My brother suggested "Fukmi" (Fookmee), so we laughed in the office at the thought of him saying that.

The moron did not disappoint!

"Is that a boy dog?" Obviously the lack of a penis and the wearing of a bright pink camo collar escaped this moron's keen observation skills! I said why yes, it is a he!
"What's his name?" (ohmygosh could it be, the opportunity, so early?)
"Fukmi" said I.
"Fookmee? What's that?"
"F-U-K-M-E" (I mispelled it to him dangit! I was trying not to laugh!) "It's Japanese I think!"
"Oh ok, hey Fukmi! FUKMi! Come here, Fukmi!"
I was doing ok not laughing, until my brother walked by and I looked at his face, as he was trying not to laugh; laughter snorted right out my nose and it couldn't be contained.
DT did not notice, he was too busy trying to exhort my dog Fukmi to come to him.
"Hey he recognizes his name!" (more suppressed laughter, it's killing me.....!)
The guy spent, I kid you not, short of ten minutes calling for Fukmi. We had a counter full of customers and this MORON kept calling for the dog! He even tried to come behind my counter again; I told him to move his butt because "Fukmi doesn't like people on his side of the counter!"

"FUKMI!! HERE, Fukmi! Look at me, Fukmi!!"
"Fukmi! COME, FUKMI!"
"Hey, FUKMI! Can you hear me, Fukmi? Yeah you know your name don't you, Fukmi?"

Every time I looked over at my brother out on the sales floor, his face red as he tried not to laugh, I had to try with all my might to suppress my own desire to laugh until I peed my pants! The fact that the guy was not only a dolt but was yelling 'FUKMI' in front of about 15 other people was almost more than I could take. When he left, we laughed and laughed.

We have two other dogs that come into the shop. I think their names are going to be Likmi and..... hmmm.... we'll have to work on the other. We know DT will be back soon!

Billie Bitch Ass

I like elderly folks for the most part, I really do! But we have one customer who takes the cake. Her name is Billie and she's in her 80's. And man oh man does she have people fooled! She comes in once a month to do a loan; and she gets downright mean as a snake when I tell her she needs to have the entire amount of the loan and not just the interest. The law states she has to be able to pay off the loan before she can write another; so I'm not just being mean. I'm not wanting a $5,000 fine, thankyewverymuch! She has been told twice before that she must have the entire amount, and each time she's been a bitch (to me, not to the men.) Yesterday she came in and tried to avoid me; she pretended she could not hear me and walked past me, in the hopes that the man at the counter would help her. Wrongo, old bat! You get the mean lady again, oh noes! While I'm doing her paperwork, she asks, "Where can I find a little dog? Do you know anyone giving one away?" I didn't, but know there are lots of little dogs at the Humane Society right now so told her about there. She said, "No I don't want to PAY for a dog. I want a free dog." The other clerk and I told her, there ain't no such thing as a free dog. I asked her, "What happens when it needs to go to the vet?" She glared at me icily and said, "THANK YOU for your advice." (meaning, she won't take an animal to the vet, it costs too much, it can just be sick and die, you bitch!) I walked over to collect the loan payment and saw it was only $40, not the $335 she needed to have. Here we go again! I told her, I need the rest of the loan amount to process your loan. She glared at me and said, "I don't have it. Someone stole $310 from me so I don't have it." (Last month, someone 'stole' $400 from her and she didnt' have it. Sigh.) I told her I could not rewrite her loan unless she had the entire amount; she set her mouth in a tight line and said she only had the $40. I went and got the owner and let HIM tell her. The minute he said anything to her she started to 'cry', only there were no tears. "Boo hoo someone stole $310 from me and I don't have it, boo hoo". He told her it's the law, and she 'cried' some more. He told her we'll do it for her this time but next time she had to have it. (This is what we told her twice before but they won't stick to it!) As soon as his back was turned, she glared icily at me some more and it was like night and day with her personality. She has my dad and the others fooled that she's just some 'sweet old lady', I sure wish we had her acting on tape. NOT A TEAR, yet she was 'crying' just minutes before? What a hag. I went ahead and took the interest, processed the paperwork, and took it to her. I told her, next time we can make your loan for $100 instead of $300 if you are having trouble paying it each time, that will make it easier on you. "What? You'll what?" I repeated it. She snarled at me something about how she won't be able to pay off her loan for months and months and how ridiculous that sounded to her. I just smiled at her. Then I pointed where she needed to initial, sign, and date. She said hatefully, "THANK YOU FOR YOUR ADVICE." She signed her name and threw down the pen. "Anything else?" I said yes, just initial and date here. She said, "I KNOW! THANK YOU FOR YOUR ADVICE!" and just initialed, then threw down her pen again. I pointed and said, "Just need the date here." She said again, "I KNOW!" and then wrote just the month and hesitated on the day, I could not help but be a pest and said, "Today's the third, believe it or not! How time flies!" She glared at me some more, her mouth pinched and bitter, and said, "THANK YOU FOR YOUR ADVICE!" again. Then she again threw the pen on the counter. She was an 80 year old temper-tantrum throwing baby, and I'd had enough of her rudeness the other two times she was in. So just to piss her off some more, I circled the amount due at her next loan, BIG circles, and said, "Just be sure to bring this in next time!" really sweet like I'm the nicest person there is. She went batshit! 'I know that! Thank you for your advice!" I said, "Well we've had this problem twice before so I wanted to make sure we don't have it again. Since I told you two times already I figured one more can't hurt, ok? Have a nice afternoon Billie." Yeah that was rude. I think this ol' bitch needs to be in a nursing home or on medications, she's positively crappy with attitude...and only to women. She's the innocent, victimized elderly lady to any man who is behind the counter; the switch is just unreal. She was so mad when she left, I had to put a note on her account so the next person could be warned about her fake tears and how many times she's been told. Why anyone let her have a loan that size when she's on Social Security is beyond me anyway; she should never have been given such a large loan. Next month she is due on a day I am off; if she comes in the day before then I'll make sure to wait on her again since she hates my stinking guts anyway! I'll just put her loan back in the file and tell her we will hold it a couple of days until she can come in with the full amount. I'm sure she'll have a complete meltdown, and one of the men will step in and tell her, "Well we'll do it THIS TIME (time number how many???)", which she's used to. She'll probably pretend to cry to them because it works for her. That's some racket she has going! She makes more on Social Security than I do working for a living!

"But I Only Opened My Phone!"

We have a theater chain here that has instituted a severe "NO CELL PHONE" policy during a movie. No games, no texting, do NOT turn on your phone during the movie, period. If they catch you, you are removed from the movie, no exceptions, no refunds, no kidding. We were so glad when they first announced this policy, because really, seeing all the phones on during a movie is very distracting and annoying. We always sit in the back row, so allllll those phones in front of us add up.

Tonight we had an opportunity to test the new policy! We were watching "Lakeview Terrace" and two rows in front of us, some dumb twaddle opens up her phone and it looks like she is playing games on it; all the different flashing screens were hard for me to ignore. After a few minutes it was clears he was not going to stop, so I snapped my fingers at her (like the dog she is) and said loudly, "Please turn that off, THANK YOU!" But she ignored me. That's ok, I got up and went to get an usher, who brought another one with her. They camped out at both doors and waited to catch her. When she saw them she turned it off, but they waited for ten minutes. Eventually she had to get her cell phone fix and she tried to hide it in her ample lap as she opened it up...and busted she was! The two ushers had to argue with her to get her to get up and leave, and she kept trying to sneak back in, but they did finally manage to impress upon her the fact that she was banned from the movie, so she stayed out in the hallway.

I had to get up and go to the ladies' room, and passed her in the hallway. She GLARED at me hatefully when I came out of the theater, so I was sure she knew I was the one who 'tattled'. I just smiled sweetly at her. I was kind of taken aback, in the darkness she just looked like an elderly blob, but in the light of harsh flourescents she was a sight. She was about five foot tall and five foot wide; probably in her 50's but looking older; she had on so much black eye makeup that it looked like someone had punched her in the eyes. She had short teased bleached blonde hair (obviously done at home and overprocessed) and the gaudiest Pepto Bismol Pink sweater I've ever seen. She had about four feet of bosoms stretching that sweater to it's limit. She was SO angry that her mouth was all pinched up, and it looked like her mouth was trying to eat her face. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that she probably uses that look a LOT in her life. Apparently she was really mad that her boyfriend got to stay inside the movie. (Why wasn't he a gentleman and come join her in the hallway? The movie was ONLY half over! har har!)

When I came back, she glared at me some more, so I smiled at her some more. When when the movie was over, we were among the first out since we always sit in the back; as we exited the theater she was there glaring at me some more, so I smiled sweetly at her yet again. I was certain she knew who I was, and thought she was just trying to make herself feel better so I just smiled at her. She was positively FUMING.

Hubby and the kid had to do some boy business, so I took the car keys and went out to get the car. A few minutes later my son opened the car door and said breathlessly, "MOM! MOM! That lady is looking for you and she's so mad! She's stomping back and forth by the ticket taker and she's cussing and asking,'where is she? Where is she? Is she gone? I only opened my phone, that was uncalled for!'" He said she had a big boyfriend who was pissed right along with her and they looked like they were wanting to go after whoever tattled on them. I could SWEAR I've seen her on an episode of "Jerry Springer"! She's so obviously accustomed to acting like a White Trash Moron.

Skinheads...at least they are *WHITE* Trash!

Skinheads. Neo-Nazis. White Supremists. Whatever term is popular at the moment, they are some of the most repugnant of the White Trash Morons. (But hey at least they are white, and 'white is right' ya know!) Yes, I had to swallow some vomit to type that.

We have some World War II flags (along with other wars and other countries) and some knives from that era. Some are replica SS knives and the like; let us not forget that no matter how one might feel about the Nazis, Hitler, Germany, it is a part of our history. I get very annoyed when dumbass customers come in and say, "OH that stuff is racist! That's Nazi stuff, you shoudn't sell it!" These same people see the Confederate flag and the Mexican flag and do the same, "That's racist!" routine. Do they NOT know history? No of course not. If someone can really see a Confederate flag and say, "That means slavery!", they are missing the entire history boat and they can just simmer in their ignorance. I got so tired of rednecks making disparaging comments about the Mexican flag (including my uncle's dumb cunny former-stripper ex-wife!) that I started saying, "What, you don't recognize the first Texas flag?" The comment goes totally over their heads, but what do you expect from white trash morons?

Anyway, apparently the WWII memorabilia (as it pertains to Germany) apparently DOES attract some die hard skinheads. I don't care what race you are; to embrace total hate against someone else STRICTLY because of their race makes you the ultimate WHITE TRASH MORON. The same goes for the Black Panthers and La Rasa. But skinheads really chap my ass, because they are always among the poorest representations of what white folks are. I mean really, do you think that botched shave job and all those tattoos make you look smart? Do you think dropping the 'n' word makes you look brilliant? Do you really think that claiming the police arrested you only because of your tattoos makes you SO DIFFERENT from the people who say they were arrested only because they were non-white? Do you not see how repulsive and idiotic you are?

The guy who orders all our items for 'that side' of the store only seems to see the money angle in whatever he orders. He orders marijuana leaf ashtrays and then bitches because they all walk out. Hello! People who SMOKE pot aren't going to BUY them, they are going to STEAL them, are you surprised? He was taking special orders for these moron skinheads, and the rest of us were having to deal with them when they came in to buy the stuff. I'm sorry but I can do totally without skin heads and gangbangers in our store! The employee was told NOT to order any more items that would attract skinheads; but he refused to listen. The last batch that arrived, were tossed directly into the trash. (Hoping he got the hint as it came out of his share.) Still, we have this one particularly dumb and irritating skinhead named Brandon. Yes that's his name; I figure if he doesn't mind having swastikas plastered all over his neck and arms for everyone to see, he can't possibly care that people know his name. "Brandon" bought a brass knuckle handled knife from us (decorative, not legal to carry!) and was stupid enough to keep it in his car. (No one has ever accused white supremists of being SMART!) Apparently he was innocently driving along DOING NOTHING, and he was stopped by police. He just innocently PICKED UP THE KNIFE TO SHOW THEM and he was arrested for threatening an officer. They ONLY arrested him because of his tattoos. (Can you feel the sarcasm dripping here?) He's a real tool, just being in his presence makes my lip curl and I can barely be civil to him. He repeats his story every time he comes in, as if us selling him the knife somehow makes it our fault that he can't obey the law. I would like to think his bad karma is finally at work.

Every time Brandon comes into the store he wants to order more Nazi items. I always tell him we are not carrying any more since they don't sell; but he insists, "The knife guy always orders it for me." This time I finally told him, "Yeah we threw it in the trash, the owner does not want that stuff being ordered any more. We have to all but give it away on clearance to get rid of it and I don't like the attention it brings." (Hint hint!) He glared and said, "I'll just talk to the knife guy when I'm in next." Yeah I'll bet you will. I almost told him our knife guy is Jewish just to see if he'd still want to talk to him. Nah, he'd probably just set fire to our place or burn a cross in the courtyard. Bed Bath and Beyond had a nice display of white sheets last week, I ALMOST told Brandon he could get a really good deal on some, just to be a snarky bitch.

I sure hope that when Brandon is in an accident, the first responder at the scene isn't someone of another race. I'd sure hate to be rescued by someone who WASN'T WHITE! GASP! Whatta moron.

The Audacity of...White Trash Morons!

I wake up this morning to find out that I'm going to have a *really fun day* with all the white trash morons who have been coming into the shop the last few weeks and waxing poetic about their choice of candidate. (I'll let you read between the lines and decide which candidate will most favor giving hard-working-taxpayers' money to people who are not hard working.)

My husband works for a certain government institution. One of his co-workers, who also happens to be interested in getting into management, was convicted of a felony involving great bodily harm upon a guy of a different (non minority) race; but of course that's not a race hate crime. He put the guy into the hospital. He has made threatening comments to my husband, including, "Keep my name out'cho' mouf!"...but that's ok because at this government installation, you just call the union to save your bacon if anyone tries to discipline you. It is, after all, 'disparate treatment', because of course it's not your actions that caused the problem, it's because everyone is racist. (Got it?) This morning husband reported to me that after the announcement of the election results, one of these esteemed co-workers approached his (white) supervisor and said, "Now that we got one'a our own in there, you gonna have to treat us different!" The supervisor was puzzled and said, "Why would I do that? I'm going to treat you like I've always treated you. I'm not a racist." Yeah, Obama does NOT identify with you, dumbass! He wouldn't give you the time of day, you are too ghet-to for his schmoozy self.

And today, the morons flowed into work. We had a police officer in visiting, and one very low-IQ white trash moron came in to talk about his loans. He can't hold a job to save his life, and he's a real idiot. He's fertile though; he has the energy to keep fathering children he can't afford, with his VERY NICE but equally slow wife. He was at the counter and said, "What you think about Bama winning?" (Can't even get his name right?) The officer said, "He's going to give you a job!" One of our employees said, sarcastically, "No, he's going to give you a CHECK!" You should have seen this moron light up like the Christmas Tree in Times Square! "Oh man that's great, I need me a check, that would come in handy for Christmas! They gonna give us another check like this year?" We were KIDDING but he believed wholeheartedly that Saint Obama was gonna give him a check. I told him, "Sorry that was courtesy of the Republicans, you aren't going to get another stimulus check anytime in the next four years." Then the employee told him, "Why don't you go get a job? It works for me!" That was rather rude, yes, but this guy thinks money should just come to him as he sits on his ass. He's also impossible to offend, he's that dense. He went on about how he 'can't' find a job. There are thousands of jobs unfilled here, go apply for one, that's how you get one! Oh yeah and show up, and bathe, and do your work!

The cherry on the cake of the day: Sloth and his monkey children came into the store. I detest even having to see them, they are so annoying, their voices are like nails on a chalkboard, I can see DEVOLUTION happening before my eyes! They came in waving little flags they got at school today (the SCHOOL was celebrating the appointment of a candidate who would support their teacher's union demands, big surprise!). They came up to the counter and asked the employee, "Aren't you glad Obama won?" He looked at them like they were eating their own boogers and said flatly, "No." They were chattering on and on saying how he's going to do this and do that (all the stuff the school tells them), and he just told them they didn't know what they were talking about and walked away! I had to laugh. They looked like he just told them to go die somewhere.

We have another white trash moron family; the mom was a stripper until she doubled her body mass to impossible proportions; the dad is just an idiot for continuing to have babies with her. (Her sister is the one who claims she only gets into fights at school because she's half Asian.) They kept having babies, they are on welfare and proud of it. The mom got fired from a nursing home for hitting a resident; her hand was even in a cast but of course, they were just 'making sh_t up" about her. Now she's trying to sue the place and get money for her hand. She has one little darling who does not listen and willfully ignores anyone who tells her not to touch stuff, or to get off the ladder, etc. Every time she comes in she opens her mouth and licks/slobbers all over the glass display cases, and I have to clean this up! I've squirt her with a water sprayer before, but that only lasted a visit or two. (Does it not disturb her mom that even DOGS and CATS would remember that sprayer and not do it again?) Today, she did it again and I told her she could not come in any more if she did that again. They paid another visit in the afternoon, and sure enough the little monkey started slobbering long streams all over my glass display case. I'm sure that by putting my hand on the front of her grimy little face and pushing her head OFF my glass, that is considered battery in some states; so be it. Her little fanny needs some blisters and maybe that would get through to her! But the little brat went back for another round of slobbers, after glaring at me. So I handed her mom the glass cleaner and a rag and told her, "It's your turn to clean it up, I cleaned up after her this morning and I'm done." It worked! She sprayed the cleaner on the glass and the monkey-child actually WIPED IT OFF. I almost fell over! I told her, "Thanks (brat's name). You can come back and visit me again, your mom won't have to leave you outside." (ha, ha.)

Man, where's my check? I need battle pay for putting up with these dummies. I need to quit working, stop paying my mortgage and car payments, and get my damned check!

Nickeldicks

Nickeldicks...gotta love 'em. They are the same people who will return things to WalMart after they use it, and get their money back. They wouldn't dream of taking a pay cut, but by garsh you need to give them a better price!

Larry; he's a full time alcoholic with a girlfriend who pops pills. (More about her later) He's barely functioning, he's a jerk, he doesn't know how to talk to women without being a rude pig. He wrote us a bad check and never fully paid it off; yet he STILL has the balls to bitch about our prices. We price items half or less of new; plus they are cleaned up before being put out on the floor. Most shops can't say the same. And, most shops overprice the items in the expectation that you will want 10 to 20 percent off. We have NO HAGGLE signs all over the store, but I daresay the only thing Larry has really read in his life is the liquor store operating hours.

Today a guy came in and was really hostile to me when I told him to let me know if he needed help with anything. He was very brusque when talking to the other employee as well. We had a $30 item marked $6 on clearance; yet he still insisted that we just take $6 on the item and eat the tax. He was told, we don't charge tax, we just collect it (with a smile). He said he did not want the item then, and left. He came back half an hour later to buy it anyway. You know he spent more than the 32 cents of tax on gas by leaving and coming back. What a smart man.

We have an Australian guy come in regularly and he's such a tool (no pun intended). At first I loved to listen to him talking, until he started to be a Prick From Down Under. Just seeing him come in gives me gas. He pretty much avoids me now, because the last time he said, "(>>>) has this item brand new for less!" I told him well you better go get that there then, that's a great deal and you shouldn't pass it up! I said it like I was genuinely concerned that he get the best deal, however since we both knew he was bullshitting, he was not amused.

Lam Van Tran; thank heavens he no longer shops with us. But for years, what a pain in the rice cake! He would stand at the counter, we would be busy...and he's BANG on the counter with his fist, demanding someone drop what they were doing and help him NOW. Nevermind that other people had been in line long before he got there. During a mad rush one day, all of us were busy, people were lined up...he pushed to the front of the line and started slamming his hand on the glass jewelry case. I was startled, and turned from what I was doing. He shouted at me, "I need help NOWWW. I'm een a houury! NOW! NOW!" (What the hell?) He started slamming the glass again and I said, "Don't slam my glass or you'll break it. There are other people who were in line first so you'll have to get to the back of the line, sorry.' He started to slam the glass again and I snapped my fingers at him and pointed towards the back of the line; can you believe he actually WENT??? Then he liked to bring up tools and pretend he could not read the price tags. Whatever you told him the tag said, he'd name some number about 90% less. I got so sick of it, so when he'd say, "How much this?" I'd name a number many, many times higher. It didn't take him long to stop that. Then he'd say, "You take (number)!" Not, "Would you take?" but insisting, 'You take'. So I'd say, "I'll take 100 dollars for it!" He'd get upset, "Price say 59.95!" I said, Ok I'll take 59.95 plus tax." "No you take thirty!" So I'd say, "NO I'll take $150!" Every time he'd name a different number, I'd make it bigger and would say it like I was dead serious. Eventually he got over his problem, but no one else wanted to wait on him so I had to help him every time. It was tedious and I dreaded working with him. He did let it slip that other shops had told him never to come back. (I wonder WHY?)

Charles: There are no words for this rude spoomaster! He wants us to order metal signs for him and give him a lower price than we even pay. He had said, "Well I can find these at (someplace) for (some ridiculously low price). " My dad told him hey, that's a great deal, maybe we should buy from them because that's less than we pay now! Charles hemmed and hawed and couldn't come up with any real contact information for the place. Probably because they only exist in the skidmark-stained recesses of his underwear. We did give him price breaks on the signs but he had to buy at least ten to get the deal. I guess he saw me working alone one day and thought he'd try to pull a fast one. He brought up three signs and when I rang them up, told me no that is not what he had to pay for them. I consulted a list that was conveniently posted near the register JUST IN CASE he tried to pull that (since he's known as being a bullshit artist) and he was not happy. He walked away from the counter and left these signs up there. I called out to him, "Hey could you put this back over there on your way out?" He ignored me and kept on walking. I called after him again, twice, and he ignored me all the way to the door. Ever since that day, I refuse to help him. I won't get anything for him, I won't look up anything for him, and if he asks me what new signs we got, I ignore him. Once he even said, "I guess you think you're ignoring me huh?" I turned around and said, "YEP!" Now, he has to wait until one of the guys is not busy, or else he doesn't get waited on. He doesn't BUY much of anything; he'd rather stand there for an hour and tell lies. He's one of these guys that has a nasty wife, women don't like him, men don't like him, but to hear him tell it he's fighting women off day and night. He's told a million stories about going to strip clubs and having all the women wanting him. (Not saying much even if it WAS true.) He came in today and I said, "You're here on the wrong day, Dickhead Discount Day is Sunday!" Man, that felt good. His wife came in to pay on some loans and said, "Do you know what my husband's name is?" I said yes, I have him under Dickhead. She laughed so hard and said, "Oh so you know him then?" Yeah, you aren't much better...but I can stand you a little bit more.

Old guy and his wife come in every couple of months. They never buy ANYTHING, but they always say they'd buy this or that if only we'd price it at >>>. (Which is usually less than we paid for it.) Either they are stuck in pricing of the 1930's or they frequent garage sales, or what. I'm not sure what their problem is. They NEVER buy anything; I suspect that even if we did say yeah sure I'll take that, they still would not buy it. All the while they brag about their motor home and all this stuff they sell, and they expect to pay less than 1/3 of what we have stuff priced. After the third time of hearing about this guy's dog "Julie" as he's been yakking for 45 minutes while I'm trying to get some work done, I grew tired of it and had my cell phone call the shop so I could pretend to talk to a customer. It works if I stay on the phone for quite awhile; otherwise he stands there STILL talking to me like I'm not even on the phone. He needs to get a hobby.

Even a Moron Should Know...when someone is busy!

Things even a moron should know!

When someone is busy, it's not ok to ask them to show you something. It's not ok to snap your fingers at them. EVER. It's never ok to make "psssssssssttttt!" sounds at them like they are a dog ignoring you. It's not ok to step in front of the person they are helping and try to take over. It's never ok to say "Hey you!" or 'YO!" at someone who is busy helping someone else.

Yes, when I have a pen/paper or phone in my hand, I'm busy.

Yes, there are other customers in the store. So, no, it's not okay to try to get three different employees to do things for you all at the same time. Stick with the one who is helping you and try not to be an impatient prick.

Yes, that phone on my ear means there is a person on the other end being helped, it does mean I am busy. I'm not just standing there talking to myself, buttmunch. You may be talking to your 'boo' while I'm trying to help you, but I'm not rude like that.

Yes, when I'm typing on the computer, I'm busy.

Yes, when I'm actually talking to another person and doing a transaction for them, I'm BUSY!

Yes, when I'm talking to you, I'm going to ignore your RUDE child who keeps saying, "HEY YOU" at me. Teach your little monkey some manners or take him back to the zoo.

Yes, that other person REALLY WAS there before you, and trying to step in front of them and shove them out of the way isn't working for you. I did see them first, therefore you can wait. I know you are used to being a jerk and getting your way, but I've been in line with people like you and I'd rather help the people who were there FIRST. Just because you had to wait for HUD to get your housing money approved, doesn't mean you are now free from waiting ever again.

Yes, I did see that the white lady was at the counter many minutes before you even came into the store. (Yes, I did notice when you came in, we have a bell on the door. I also greeted you so I saw you come in.) I'm not waiting on her first because she's white, it's because she happened to be at the counter before you. Claiming that I'm only waiting on her first because she's white makes YOU look like a total idiot. Please just shut up before you confirm it.

Thank God They Don't Really Vote

I have met the Obama supporters.
They are my customers.
They are on various forms of government assistance, are in various stages of bill dodging, various degrees of financial irresponsibility.
They are the nonbathers, the mouth breathers, the unfailingly fertile.
The ignorant, the uneducated.
They are barefoot and in shorts in 50 degree weather.
They have meth scabs all over their faces and arms.
They think Obama's gunna give them sum money! Gonna make gas cheaper! Gunna make them rich folks PAY FINALLY!

Thank god they are too lazy to actually register to vote. I daresay most of them are unable to due to various felonies, or can't tear themselves away from Tyra, Jerry Springer, or Maury Povich.
Maybe they will miss the voting time because they are desperately searching for their meth pipe in the sofa cushions, not knowing that the baby has found it and crawled away with it and has it in her mouth while her older siblings are raiding mommy and daddy's pot stash.

Help, I'm surrounded by dumbasses and I can't get up!

"Hello, I can't hear you when you are an ass!"

Guy calls up today. We'll call him Kevin.
Kevin has been a loan customer for several years; mostly off but sometimes on. Today he calls to check on a loan, but he says, "I don't know if I have a loan there or not, if so I need to check and see, and what it is." Usually when people say this, they are fishing for information and they are not the person in question. He was rather annoyed when I asked for some personal identifying information (hey buddy, YOU called ME!) but gave it grudgingly. I found no loans open for the guy.

I told him I could not find anything but to hold on a second and I would look in the file to see what happened, since I could see the screen said he had lost a loan (we owned it). He started bitching right away. I came back onto the phone and informed him that his items had been pulled a month before, as they had been here over 90 days with no payments made on them. Law says we can pull them at 90 days, we waited 95 days, and he never showed up so they became ours to do with as we wished.

Kevin: WHAT? you WHAT???
Me: They were pulled last month, we gave you an extra week on top of the due date and never heard from you so we pulled them.
Kevin: What's that mean, you pulled them? You sold them? What? What the f-ck?
Me: Yes, we had them over three months and no payments were made on them so we pulled them.
Kevin: (getting irate and starting to yell at me) You what? You pulled them? (cursing and bitching and gnashing of teeth!)
Me: Please don't raise your voice to me, I can't hear you when you yell.
Kevin: What happened to my stuff? What did you do with it? I've had other things in there for five years and you never pulled it!
Me: Yes, but you PAID on those, that's why we didn't pull them.
Kevin: (yelling at me into the phone, cursewords of glorious proportions) That's such bullshit! (more name calling)
Me: Hello?? HELLO? HELLO? (bang phone on counter a few times for effect) HELLO? Are you there? I can't hear you....? Hello?
Kevin: (in a lower voice) HELLO! Yeah! You pulled my stuff! What the f-ck!!!
Me: Yes, like I said, we had no payments from you and didn't hear from you, we even gave you another week. In fact we pulled it over a month ago so you are calling four months after the loan date so we would have been holding onto it with no payments for even longer.
Kevin: So where is it????
Me: They have been sold, I'm sorry.
Kevin: (starts to raise his voice and be a total window licker!)
Me: Sir, I have no desire to argue with you on the phone. When you yell, I can't hear you. If you want to yell please come down in person and yell at me.
Kevin: (going on and on about how he can't believe we pulled it, what jerks we are, what a good customer he has been even though he really hasn't been...and he's doing this at full volume)
Me: Hello? HEllllllooooooooooooo?? Hey I can't hear him, is he still there...?? HELLO? Hello Kevin are you there??
Kevin: YOU G*DDAMNED C*CKSUCKERS YOU STOLE MY (item)!
As he's yelling, I'm saying louder and louder, "HELLO!! HELLO! Is anyone there?" It's just pissing him off more but frankly, if someone is going to have a tantrum like that and call names, I just don't care.
Finally he calmed down enough (I had said "Hell0" uncountable times by now) and said, "I want to talk to a manager!"
I told him I could help him. "No, I want the OWNER!"
Owner: How can I help you?
Kevin: repeats his same rant about losing his loan items.
Owner: Yes, but here are the terms (repeats them to him) and this is now day 120-something and the loan was due for pull at day 90 if you didn't pay, which you didn't. We waited an extra week and you are still calling over a month later?
Kevin proceeds to be just as rude to the owner, ending with "You've just lost a customer!" (Uh. well where have you been going the last five years, dildo head? Not with us! We aren't losing much if you don't pay for your loans right?)
Owner says, "Thanks for calling!" and hangs up.

Owner was waiting for Kevin to start the cocksucker rant with him, as he was going to tell him, "I'm sorry, your mom doesn't work here."
I bet the cursing would have been loud and proud after that! So, now, Kevin has a nice note on his file that will pop up if he comes in to do any business with us. It says, "Kevin thinks you are a g*ddamned C*cksucker, no more loans for him!"
Do you think he'll be back? I sure hope so. I can't wait to chant, "Hello? HELLO?" if he starts in with verbal abuse. That, and I think the Sheriff's department will get an 'intoxicated motorist' call after he leaves. He DOES smoke meth, all 6 foot tall and 150 pounds of him. "Yeah officer c*cksucker, this is my pipe!"
AHHH the joys of dealing with asswipe white trash morons!

You can pick your nose but not your relatives!

My husband's daughter is two years younger than me. Now, we almost all go through the spell where we pick the wrong guy at least once. We might even marry one. But twice? I adore my daughter in law, but her husband is the most obnoxious piece of work there is. It's too bad she had to marry him, her first husband was really a scumbag but I'm having a hard time seeing how this second one is any better.

You know it's truly sad when, even when you AGREE with the person, you still find them an unbearable boor! Even at regular discussion level in a restaurant, he's so loud that other patrons stare at us. We had decided five years ago that we would never, ever eat out with them again. All of us had gone to a steak house near where they live. While we were waiting for our food, this moron made comments like, "What's taking so long, are they GROWING the cow to kill it for our lunch?" "Are they GROWING the wheat to make the bread?" Real gems like that. Now, apparently this dumbass doesn't care if he then gets spit on his food! But I do! Oh and to make it worse, every time our poor waitress came within 20 feet of our table, he'd make some of the most unbelievably impatient, rude comments ever. I was THIS close to just getting up and leaving, when our food came. He and my daughter in law proceeded to eat about half of it, and then.....they started to complain about how it wasn't right, it was bad, etc. (It was FINE. We had the same things!) I think they wanted free food...but that can't be completely accurate because they expected that WE were paying for it! Needless to say I was mortified. But on another occasion they came to our house, and we went to IHOP. Not the classiest location but people are humans wherever you go, and there is never an excuse to treat waitstaff like they are the lowliest creature you've ever set eyes upon! (I've been there myself!) Again, they ordered food, bitched endlessly about how long it took, how poor the service was, etc. They also, again, ate half and then expected the manager to make them entirely new meals (different meals on top of that, not even more of the same meal they'd just consumed half of!) That night, hubby and I decided we would never eat with them in public again, ever. EVER.

Well, we did it again last week. ALL I am going to say is that the guy is so loud, so rude, so obnoxious, so inconsiderate, and so IGNORANT. He went on about the candidate he is voting for despite me telling him time and again, "We don't discuss politics, I'm sorry." That is a big fat hint, buddy boy, that your guest is not on the same page as you! Just his choice of candidate reinforced to me what an uninformed dolt he truly is, but to see that his wife is going along with him and he's still a rude mouthy jerk just saddened both of us. So we again decided, five years or not, we will not have dinner with them again unless and until their child graduates from High School in about a decade and a half! Maybe by then he will have had a stroke that renders him unable to speak.
One can only dream.

Mary Mary still Cuntrary

Yes, yes, it's PMS week. Led by another wonderful dealing with Mary. She called up at the shop last week, using some man's phone according to the Caller I.D. So when she started asking about someone else's loan, I said, "I'm sorry sir, I can't discuss another person's loan with you."
When she identified herself as Mary (after loudly proclaiming, 'I AM NOT A SIR! I'M A WOMAN!"), I cringed even more.
Ah gotta love her. After a back and forth in which she petulantly demanded that she had to know the details of the other person's loan (and not getting them), she hung up abruptly. I so do wish that one of these days, while talking to her, I could just hit the disconnect button and hang up on her right in the middle of the converstation, as apparently that is how she prefers to use the phone. But....I can see she'd just call right back and be nasty.

Yesterday she called up and wanted to have a fax sent to us; AND she wanted me to call her whenever the fax arrived. The fact that our fax machine is silent and we never really know when faxes come unless we happen to be checking is one thing; the fact that we tend to be very busy AND she's such a raging piece of rotten fish combined to have me tell her, you are welcome to call and check to see if your fax arrived. She was very upset, why couldn't I call her when it came? Rather than argue with her (as she loves), I just sweetly said, "Just give me a call later and I'll check to see if it's come through yet." She made a disgusted sound and hung up.

And call she did. FOUR TIMES. Oh well, I did tell her to call. Her fax finally arrived many hours later. What's so funny is that in times like this, she acts like you got the fax but are withholding it from her and LYING to her about it being there. Once she was so incredulous that it was not there, that I just HAD to be missing it, that she just KNEW it was there, so I told her to trot her ass on down and see for herself. (Not in those same words.) Needless to say that shut her up for awhile. She does not like to go anywhere. It's probably hard for her to find a housetent, er, housedress, that fits. And she doesn't want to have to bathe more than once a year.

AHHH Mary. Ya old bitch. Gotta love ya.

Woe is me, I is so poor, gimme a pity party!

Ok it's time for a little lesson on what exactly constitutes, "Poor". If I hear one more white trash moron bitching about how tough things are and how broke they are and how poor they are because there is a 'recession' and how they think 'another Depression is coming' etc. and etc., I will personally flick lit cigarettes at them.

Truly poor people DO NOT HAVE money to spend on:

*Cable or satellite bills
*Cell phones
*New cars with rimz and thumpin' stereoz
*Acrylic nails with cheesy painted designs. (Or anything else of the nature)
*Cigarettes
*Booze
*Jewelry, including a piercing for every freaking orifice, real or imagined
*a tattoo collection
*Bragging rights to a 600 DVD movie collection
*The latest computer/flatscreen TV
*new computer with zippin' internet service
*Bottled water or Starbucks every day
*Fast food 1-3+ times a day
*QVC
*Go out to bars and/or movies constantly
*Boob jobs
*Knives and swords to hang on their walls
*A pedigreed and/or full blooded dog that they brag they paid hundreds of dollars or more for
*Brand new designer clothing. Even knockoffs. (They cost more than Goodwill and garage sales still!)

---------and on and on and on.
The next moron who proclaims how he/she is poor and broke because of gas prices, while guzzling a Starbucks Crappucino and boasting about how he/she has, like, 600 DVD's at home in their vast collection, can kiss my big fat white ass! You want poor? Try having to decide what bill you are going to pay this month and which you are going to put off, so you can eat. You, assface, are NOT poor because you had to get acrylic nails instead of, oh, the SILK WRAPS. You are not poor because your car stereo only shakes MY windows, rather than houses a block away like your homie's stereo does. You are NOT poor because you only have the middle tier of cable channels and not the 5000 channel Super Pack that allows you to sit on your lazy whining ASS all day.
You want to act like you know what you are talking about, about another Depression? Then talk to people who were really IN IT, or (gasp!) put your dumbass intellect to work and stick your nose in a book and see what it was like. Even if you lost 75% of all your STUFF, you would never know the type of desperation those people went through. You stupid dickhead, your idea of 'going through another Depression' is having to turn off your cable or internet! If you had to give up your cell phone, then that would mean....the world has ended! You stupid white trash moron. Someone needs to beat you all over with the clue stick. And a BIG ONE.

Double Dippin', and it aint' ice cream!

We have a lovely couple, who are both on disability. The husband looks like "Sloth" from The Goonies; the wife has a unibrow, and could easily grow a goatee if she tried. The kids run around with no shoes most of the year, they are always dirty and smelly and act like monkeys. Hell, they probably ARE monkeys. (The parents have money for things they WANT, it's not a poverty issue!) The children also receive disability checks because heck, mommy and daddy get them too. It's a big huge family check-fest!

Now what I don't get: daddy is supposed to be totally disabled and unable to work. (He can lug his 32" tv in to get a loan though!) However, two weeks ago he started bringing in UNEMPLOYMENT CHECKS? I'm like, WTF? How can you get disability AND unemployment?? I asked him about the unemployment check, expecting him to say something like they owed it to him from years ago when he did work. But no! Sloth actually was working as a security guard (Was it 'social security'? har har!) and was fired. Probably because he was too stupid to know which end of the flashlight to turn on. Ok so yes that's mean but I'm telling you, the guy and his wife maybe share the same I.Q. number between them and their children are even worse.

This guy gets unemployment every week to the tune of $275. He gets disability of $1200. His wife gets $600-something and each of their monkey litter gets a $600 check. My husband breaks his back at work 10 hours or more a day and he doesn't bring home as much as these leeches! I'm so seething mad just thinking about it. My mood was not helped when Mrs. Sloth opened her purse and out ran some roaches; alive and kicking and raring to breed all over our shop! I recoiled in horror and had to stifle a scream; she acted like it was no big deal and ignored it. So this tells me they have these pets running freely throughout their house! How appropriate, the leeches living with roaches.

Is there no justice? Why are people allowed to suck off the teat like this??

Bitchface Barbie

Today, Bitchface Barbie came back. She pays her electric bill here every month, and at least every few visits she has...an issue. I haven't mentioned her before, but today she made her mark on the world. Her real name is Lisa, but let's call her Bitchface Barbie, or BB.

The most outstanding feature of Bitchface Barbie is her chest: she has the biggest fake boobs I've ever seen outside of a cheap porn movie. They are ginormous, and they make one big uniboob across her chest. She has very fake bleached blonde hair with brown stripey lowlight streaks in it. She tans, a LOT. She applies makeup with a trowel, and some of the colors are very Tammy Faye. She insists on wearing very tight clothing, even though she's about a size or two bigger than the clothes she puts on. She might have been cute in high school and still thinks she's a cheerleader; that might explain her attitude. Every visit starts out the same: I see those honkin' huge boobs, a lightbulb of recognition starts a spark in my brain somewhere, and by the time she's plopped down her bill and I see the name, it hits me: Uh oh, expect a rude bitch fit! (She rarely disappoints.) She has a very distinct name, it's similar to a former friend so I recognize it every time. (Well, the huge balloons are a start.)

I don't know how to put her attitude into words: She's very fake-y nice, like "giggle giggle, flirt flirt", almost like the strippers. You can tell she does not prefer the company of women at any rate, since they probably see right through her. But the second she hears something she does not want to hear, it's like someone pulls off the Happy Bitch mask and reveals the Bitchface. She goes from fakey sweet to raging wench in seconds. It's a marvel, it has to be some kind of world record. Today was one such day.

I was waiting on another lady, who decided to answer her phone and talk to her 'boo' right in the middle of me taking her bill. I started to tell her that I could not take it here, she needed to take it to a contracted payment center as it was a shutoff and they wanted the payment today. (We take 1-3 business days and the utility will not accept our receipt over the phone so they cannot call it in. There are signs everywhere stating this.) Well, she was so involved in talking to her 'boo' that I left her to stew in her rudeness and came face to face with Bitchface Bazongas. She pushed her bill into my face and I saw the name, and the recognition clicked right in. She also had a disconnect notice; of course she is too busy paying for her fake tan and blonde bleachjob hairdo and fake nails, they are more important than her bills so she almost always has past due bills. This causes a problem because she wants to call in her electric bill, every time, despite the million signs she obviously cannot or will not read. Let us not underestimate the amount of time I have spent, repeatedly, telling her this same fact on all the other occasions she has brought in a late electric bill and then turned into a raging wombat when I told her that we could not get it credited that day.

So, Bitchface is standing there, she mentions she needs to call in the bill. (Again. GOD please don't make me go through this with her AGAIN.)

Me: If you need to call this in, you'll have to go to a contracted center.
BB: No, I won't call it in from here, I read your sign.
Me: If you need to call it in, you'll have to take your bill to a contracted center, they won't accept our receipt if you pay it here.
BB: Ok I won't make you call it in. I get it. I'll call them later.
Me: (about to smack the brunette back into her hair!) No, what I am saying is, if you need to call it in, you'll have to find a contracted center to pay it, we are not contracted with them and they will not accept our receipt when you call it in. It will be as if you did not pay it today. That is what the signs on the door and (showed her the others) say.
BB: I thought that sign meant you can't call it in from here. (??)

At this point, the lady talking to her Boo on the phone actually suspends her phone call long enough to interject that she too, thought the signs meant she could not stand in the store and call the receipt in. Can there be this many dumb cunnies in one location? SO now I have two bitches who don't want to hear what I'm saying and are working themselves into a tizzy. MissTalkToHerBoo starts snatching up her bill and getting mouthy; she actually has a shutoff notice that was to have been paid TWO DAYS AGO or it would be shut off today. She thinks it reads that she has until today to pay it; she is not wanting me to tell her if she pays it here she is going to have her service turned off. Of course it's all my fault that she's a dumbass who does not pay her bills on time and is now having to be inconvenienced in her search for a place to pay her bill. Gotcha.

Me: Explains that we are not contracted and these bills are past due and that they will get shut off if they pay them at my store. I'm only trying to help them, I should just take their money and shrug when they call back later furious because they were shut off, since they should have read the signs or L-I-S-T-E-N-E-D!

BB: (starts to get really angry and petulant and bossy) ALL I have to do is give them the receipt number! That's all I have to do. When you give me the receipt, I will call it in. (She's saying this in a very staccato, pinch-mouthed, eyebrow-wagging, head bobbing way.) Truly it's amazing that a white chick can get that head bobbing thing down like that. I was impressed. Maybe she learned that trick while servicing strange men in bar parking lots.

Me: (had enough) Look, we go through this almost every time you come in to pay your bill. CALM DOWN. We are not contracted, you need a batch number, our receipt does not have one, you CANNOT call it in to the utility unless you find out where a contracted center is, which will give you a receipt with the number on it that the representative will ask you for. IF you pay it here, they will shut you off. Period.

And, she actually calmed down a little. She just ratcheted her BitchFactor from 20 down to about 15. At this point another customer interjected and told her the same thing I was telling her. She snatched her bill up, and left, talking just under her breath. (Maybe those giant balloons restrict her breathing?) She stomped out to her car as well. All I could think for about an hour was that maybe the silicone is leaking out of her chest and it's causing her to have a really nasty personality disorder?

What's so amusing is that I'm off work a few hours later, on my way home, and I stop at the grocery store to get a few needs. I'm not even thinking about work or the White Trash Morons who interjected themselves today...(wait til you hear about Mister Blueball.) I hear this annoying voice a few feet away; it's Bitchface Barbie and her teenage daughter Bitchface Skipper! Now I know where Bitchface Barbie gets her wardrobe; she is squeezing her stuff into her teen daughter's clothes. It all became so crystal clear at that moment. And her daughter acted just like her mom. As she walked by me, I smiled at her and asked her, "Did you find a place to take your electric bill today?" BB just stopped and stared at me like I'd just grown a big penis out of my forehead. OH no wait she did not look at me fondly.... she just looked startled and puzzled and at a loss. Finally it clicked, and she said, "Oh yes I went way out of my way to (next city) and paid it. It was really out of the way. I don't even live there any more." I told her I was glad she got it taken care of. (While laughing my ass off, there was a contracted center only a little ways down the road, if she had called and asked the utility.) HA.

I rewarded myself with some Chinese after that.

MoronMania!

Since today is the 2nd, I guess the moron party was in full swing today thanks to all the government checks making their way into mailboxes across town. Today, I almost considered developing a drinking habit.

Where to start in the Moron Parade?

We have a regular guy who comes in every few months. He will waste your entire freaking day, because he has nothing else to do. He'll want you bring out every hand gun in the case, NOT GONNA BUY ANY but he wants to see and pet all of them, and run on at the mouth about the most innane subjects. Half the time he just makes stuff up, so you have to grin painfully and bite your tongue until it bleeds. He has a routine though; first he comes in and stands at the counter and takes off all his motorcycle gear, including a traffic vest you see on construction workers or police who work traffic. It takes him awhile to do it, because he wants you to notice him. And he mumbles the whole time so you'll notice that too. Today he stripped, and wanted to pay a bill. But he can't just pay it; he has to streeeeettttttccccchhhhhh out the process, until you want to scream. I've learned to just walk off and do something else until he finally gives up and signals that he's ready; he prefers you to be watching his every move and be ready to pounce upon him when he's ready....but my employers pay me by the hour to be productive, and watching him waste my time is not cost effective. Anyway he hands me his bill, and plops down half the amount he wants to pay, and says, "Well that's not quite enough is it?" and then he just stands there, holding the rest, like I'm supposed to giggle and bat my eyes and grab after it. He is so repulsive in his creepiness, I just cannot begin to explain it; I'd rather just go somewhere else instead of waiting to play his games. So I just stood there, pretending to read the bill, like I could care less if he pays what he needs to pay, and finally he gave up and tossed the money onto the counter. I turned to pay the bill, and I have to type in this lonnnnnnnnnggggggg account number. While I'm typing it in, he's talking to me, and then I hear him say, "Oh ok you are ignoring me, that's fine." (?? I'm f---g busy you asshat!!) I finished, turned around with his receipt, thanked him, and took a bathroom break. I had to vacate his presence. It was making me get hives!

Later another guy comes in to pay his bills, and he's a heavy mouth-breather. Normally I could care less, except that his breath is like ASS! Every exhalation was redolent of plaque, rotten food, rotten teeth, coated tongue, cigarettes, sour stomach contents, etc. My brother would say, it smells like he ate a shit sandwich. This was beyond that, this was shit sandwich with extra toppings. I think I could even smell maggots!! Have you ever smelled something where maggots are breeding? If you have you know just what smell I'm talking about and no further descriptions are necessary, thank yew! Just EW. I was trying to hold my breath but he was paying his bill in many small bills and I just can't hold my breath that long. I don't think even a Navy S.E.A.L. could make it that long! I had to turn away, take a deep breath, and hold it. He was taking so long I just walked over to my desk and lit some incense to kill the smell; by now his buddy had come up to the counter and THIS guy smelled like he hadn't been intimate with a bar of soap since Nixon was president! Throw in some sweaty feet and balls and the faint odor of old semen (probably on his crusty hands....there are no words!.....) and you can see the olfactory agony that I had to endure. Finally the Stinky Twins paid their bill but they didn't leave right away. They wanted to ask some questions about stuff they had no intention of buying. I made a mental note to raid my stash of Neutra-Air tonight and take a couple cans in tomorrow. Tomorrow is the 3rd and the entire families who get Disability will be in tomorrow, en masse!

DUMB TWATTLE came in to pick up a layaway. I dread dealing with this white trash monster. She's a dealer at a casino, but she thinks she is a Vegas showgirl judging by her outrageous makeup/jewelry/nails. She is also extremely full of crap and pretty clueless in general. She wants you to take entire trays of rings out to show her, and she asks every time even though she's been told 'one at a time' before. Today she wanted a $350 ring, but she wanted us to hold it back for her w/o putting down any money. We told her she could do a layaway, and she said, "I don't want to put any money down on it, and I suppose you aren't going to hold it for me." (Dat's right!!) So rather than the $70 she'd need, we told her she could do a layaway for $20 and even then she balked. So, I just put it back in the case (and suddenly she could put some money down!) She also asked about having a three-ring set sized down and soldered together; when we told her it would be three ring sizing charges (three rings, DUH!) she said, "Why, they'll be one ring when they are soldered." Explained to her that three rings have to be sized and THEN soldered, that it's three rings' worth of work for the jeweler; "Why? It's one ring? That's ridiculous. That doesn't make sense." No, I suppose not, when you are an idiot. Then she asked, "Will your jeweler take my diamonds?" Now you may laugh but we get dumb asses who ask this ALL THE TIME, and the same dumb asses always insist that another pawn shop or a jeweler 'stole their diamonds' when said persons had their jewelry. Maybe it happens sometimes, but very few of these people have diamonds WORTH taking. Like my brother wanted to say to one lady who asked, "You won't swap my diamonds will you?": "Maybe for some better ones" HA! Anyway Miss Casino dealer started to go on a tirade about how someone swapped her husband's diamonds...and we cut her off. Just please STFU! The stuff they have in pawn is SO not worth swapping anything out of, but she seems to think otherwise. I wish sometimes that we had a remote control and we could just hit MUTE on some of these dumb twattles who come in and run their mouths.

Yesterday a regular came in to redeem some pawns in her boyfriend's name. She also related that her husband had recently died and she was receiving widow's compensation from the VA since he had VA retirement. Yeah you do the math on that; she was living with a boyfriend while still married to her husband and now that he's dead, she gets over $600 a month in federal benefits. Sounds kind of soap opera-ish doesn't it? Well we get a call from her boyfriend later; actually several calls but he's so drunk he seems unable to speak, so we had to keep hanging up on him. Today he came in and tried to be a little bit belligerent but we put the quash on that right fast. (I do not tolerate drunks well and it's just easier to be firm and stern with them than to entertain mood swings or abuse.) He said his woman claimed movies were missing out of their pawn and he was told he needed to look at home. What's so funny is that just the other day he came in and did a pawn and told me he needed 'medicine'. Later I saw him walking by the shop carrying a bag from the liquor store down the way. Yeah, medicine! He was getting the shakes!

Later a rough looking woman came in with a cheap air tool and an ANCIENT lap top. From a distance I could tell this was one OLD lap top, just wasn't sure how old. When I opened it up and saw the Win98 sticker, I told her whoa can't take that, sorry. She would not accept 'no' for an answer. I told her it was too old for us to take. She kept insisting and asking, "Well what would you give me for it? What would you give me?" I told her nothing, because it's too old, we don't take them that old. "Well what would you give me for THIS one? Just what would you give me?" I told her sorry, it's too old. "Why?" I told her, "It's a dinosaur". She said, "I thought it was Windows?" (HUH???) I told her that thing was at least eight years old or older, it was too old to be anything more than a door stop. (thinking that just laying it out would get through to her.) "But it works fine, you can't give me ANYTHING for this?" I told her, I'll give you a trash bag for it. And she finally shut up about the lap top. Then they looked up her tool and found out it goes new for $46, which was a $10 loan. "Ten dollars? That's one of the best tools they make! You can't give me $40?!?!" When she was told it was a cheap Chinese tool, she started to argue. My brother called out from the back room, "Pass on it, we have too many anyway". When they start to act like that, we pass on loaning or buying the item. If they want to act like that they can go elsewhere and abuse people who might just abuse them back but we are not going to tolerate it, it happens all day long and the days of taking that are LONG over around here! So I told her, "They sell new for under $50, we only loan up to 20% of retail, and he's decided to pass on it as we have too many as it is." So she says quickly, "I'll take the $10. I have five kids to feed." (They ALWAYS have 'kids to feed' or 'medicine to buy' when they want to score a rock!) Then she pulls out a driver's license for another state. Sorry, no dice! She insists she just moved here four days ago; sorry but we need our state's license in order to do business with you. She was not a happy camper when she left. Sigh.

Guy pushes on our door; he pushes and pushes. Problem is, you have to P-U-L-L to open it. There is a sign right on the door that says so. Dumbass finally gets the door open and proclaims, "You need to get a sign on that door so people know which way it opens!" I told him, there IS a sign on the door, a big silver and red one. He ignored me. Guess Obvious hurts.

My favorite was yesterday: two of our customers tried to do a drug deal right in front of me. I told the dude trying to push pills that he had better leave and never do that in our store again and he had the nerve to laugh and tell me to chill out. He's trying to buy the other guy's Percodans and trade him some methadone right there in the store! WTF?? And there are kids around, this guy was SO stoned he did not even care that people could hear and see everything he did. He's too dumb to be a drug dealer! It will be like drug dealer Darwinism when he's busted. I did eventually make him a believer that I was serious about his activities in our place of business. Whatta tool!! Unfortunately we have to see him every stinking month. And every month he's high as a kite, reeking of pot, and thinking no one can tell he's stoned out of his gourd. What is sad is that he's on total VA disability for wounds he suffered in combat. He could be doing a lot more with his life than selling drugs and getting arrested for causing fights all over town. Not to mention he drives while on Xanax and a multitude of other prescribed drugs, and he smokes dope constantly. He's a four-wheeled time bomb going to hurt someone someday. He'll be a lucky bastard and survive because he was so stoned and high. Ugh.

Signing off for the night; tomorrow is going to be the Day of a Thousand Morons. I can feel it. I also feel a raging case of PMS coming on, just in time to deal with an endless parade of welfare abusers, crack whores, drunk idiots, and just plain shallow-end-of-the-gene-pool dwellers. Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!

No Habla Blah Blah!

Picture yourself thinking about moving to another country. Of all the things you consider before moving to this other country; isn't language one of them? So say if you were moving to, oh, GERMANY, wouldn't you at least get a grasp on rudimentary German? One would think so.

Tell me why, every day, I get at least one person who either cannot or will not understand even the basics of English? Please explain this to me. Hello, I don't care whether you came here legally or illegally, (well I really do...)...but for gawd's sakes at least learn SOME English? You have to pay bills and transact business, can't you just freaking learn a few English words? Because sorry buddy, you are living here now, and I just don't remember every damned Spanish word I learned in High School decades ago. I can call your mother an ugly cow or a whore, maybe count to thirty, but give me a break here. And when I do speak your language, don't look at me like I just shouted 'screw your mother!"

Be prepared for a whole list of blog entries dealing with People Who No Speak English. (And this includes some Vietnamese, Laotians, Cambodians, etc. It ain't just the border crossers from down South!) I really, really love having to deal with their six year old child who can speak English but barely; they rely on these kids to translate what they do not understand.

Couple months ago, a couple came in with their approximately 6 year old daughter. The couple did not speak English whatsoever, and my limited Spanish was not getting through to them what I was trying to convey ... that their bill, if paid at our shop, would take three business days to get to the utility. We even had a Spanish sign telling people what they needed to know, but as far as I can tell, no one ever read it. (Do these people not read their own language, either?) I told the couple about the delay in the bill reaching the utility, their daughter chattered to them and then they left. They came in a few days later; the bill was now close to being due. I told them again that if they paid it here, it would take three days to get there. Their daughter chattered some more, and they left. I was wondering what she was saying to them, as I didn't really listen to what she was saying. (I can understand a whole lot more than I can speak.) A few days later they came back again, and now the bill was past due. I told them again that if they paid it here, it would be three business days and it would be late now. Daughter chattered to them again and this time I heard her tell them they had to come back in three days (which upset them because they had already been here twice). This kid was telling her parents, that I had told them to come back in three days. TWICE. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This is what happens when you rely on your KID to translate for you and the kids do not have a clue what is going on, sorry. I cringe when they come in and think their kid is going to translate for them, and I can't get it through to the kid any better than I can to the parent or grandparent. Some days you just have to say, screw it. Either they learn to cope in the country they have chosen to reside in, or Darwinism will eventually weed them out!

We have a couple of male hispanics who come in to browse (and I think steal) tools. They are hoodlums, to be kind. Big gangbanger do-rags on their heads. They pretend they do not speak any English but I'm certain they have a small vocabulary of understanding as, if they WANT to, they can almost understand you. Trying to speak Spanish to them, in the few words we know, makes them sneer and laugh. Can you believe it? One of them actually repeated back what one of our employees had said to him, in a mocking and sneering tone. The employee was making more of an effort to speak Spanish than this culo had made at speaking English; and uh what country are we in? 'Taint Mexico. Whatta dick. They sure looked around when I said "ladron" (thief) to my brother. Huh!

We have another hispanic lady (ahem) who was caught shoplifting from us. She was told to leave. She had paid her utility bill right before being caught stealing so we had her name/address. (No one said the woman was smart.) She keeps coming in to pay her bill, and we found missing t-shirts after her trip by the t-shirt rack, we just didn't catch her stuffing them. But, we know she steals, and we make no pretense of watching her when she wanders around the store. She's gotten the message. She used to chatter to me in small talk, which I could follow pretty well. Now she just pays her bill and is very sour-faced. Oh boo hoo, you can't shoplift any more, poor senora.

I'm trying to think of what to say when, after the customer hands me their bill and I ask them what they want to pay...and I get..."No English!". Or worse. Oh? Ok. Why is it then my responsibility to suddenly pull the appropriate Spanish phrases out of my ass? You came to my country to live and work, hopefully you'll learn enough English to get you through the essentials like, oh, PAYING BILLS! My high school spanish class was pretty much a bunch of bullcrap like what time is it, good evening, what's your name, and how old are you. I'm not there to have social hour, I'm supposed to take their payments for their utilities. Since most of them are here illegally, they do not have checking accounts, so they can't mail off checks; I'm IT for their payment option and I don't fricking speak Spanish damnit! Nor should I have to! I work in the UNITED STATES.

Ah and the kids....most of them don't speak English until they get into school. (And then the overburdened school system has to teach them English, taking away from the kids who already speak it and have to wait while these kids catch up.) A little girl came in with her mom awhile back, and I asked her what her dolly's name was. She had a little baby doll, and the girl was just so cute. The kid looked terrified and ran behind her mom. Her mom said, "She no speak english. She no understand you" Oh, right, sorry. Silly me!

Until recently we had a lady come in who did not know how to read or write Spanish OR English! Can you believe it? And her English was non-existent. She would have me fill out money orders for her and address the money orders to a title company and to various bills. She would speak Spanish to me (which I tried to understand because I could not write anything out for her to read) and I'd speak what little I could back to her, and we got the job done between the two of us. She had like..five kids, and they were very broke. She even asked me what incense to burn to get a job. (?) I felt very sorry for her and tried to help her because it seemed that she had a husband who just kept saddling her with kids and she had to do it all herself. Her kids were very well behaved and polite, and spoke perfect English; but they were mostly in school when she was needing to pay bills and get her household chores done so she would come in and talk to me. She has not come in for over a year now and I wonder what happened to her. At least she tried to adapt to her new surroundings but she was hampered by not being able to read or write ANY language. That has to be tough.

"It's them beaners and blacks!"

Two gals come into the shop; they want to look at our extensive sword collection. Both are long-time customers; one is a druggie married to a druggie. The other used to be a stripper; she still ACTS like a stripper, but with her missing teeth and formerly-drug-ravaged body (used to be skeletal but gained it back and then some) she could be the poster child for White Trash. Add in the fact that she prefers to run around barefoot and in a voluminous house dress, hair pulled up in a Scrunchie (greasy hair at that), with no make-up to hide her scarred-from-meth-use skin, no bra holding in her meth-boobs, she's a real sight.

Well, druggie wants a sword because some neighborhood thugs are harassing her ten year old son. These thugs are adults. I suggested that instead of using a (decorative) sword, she should call the police. StripperDruggie emphatically states, "That don't do you no good, they're beaners! You call the cops on beaners and blacks and they don't do nuthin!" Really? Because to believe the news, if you are black, you are racially profiled and stopped more often just BECAUSE of your race. Huh! To think it's really not so? Druggie agrees, saying these are adults picking on her kid just because he's white and they are 'beaners'. Call me crazy, but having that kind of view on other people and using those terms wouldn't really seem to endear you to your neighbors, wouldn't you think? Both ladies went on a tangent about how these 'beaners and blacks' in their neighborhood picked on the ten year old boy and how sick they were of it, and how they were going to cut somebody and teach them a lesson. I gently suggested that taking a (decorative, not functional) sword outside to swing at someone would get them arrested at best; both ladies scoffed and proclaimed, "I'd rather be in jail than have these beaners pickin' on my boy!" Oh-kay. I forgot, you both are on Disability so you won't have a job to lose when you don't show up for it after being arrested. Check off THAT worry. I suggested they get a restraining order on the thugs, to which they protested, 'don't know their names!" I told them you don't have to know their name if you know where they live; the police can get that for you, while they are taking your report of adults threatening a minor. They got this blank stare, both of them....as they contemplated which (decorative, not functional) sword they were going to take home to swing at the thugs who dared threaten their child! I tried to suggest perhaps pepper spray or a stun gun, but they would have nothing less than a Japanese-style sword or big machete (decorative, not one of our functional knives). Then StripperDruggie's husband (also toothless and clueless) came in and piped up about how they's gonna get a gun and pop a cap into one or more thugs who 'stepped on our prop'ty!" Thank GOD they don't have the money to buy a gun. I would really hate to have to sell them one; some people are too stupid to have that kind of responsibility. I know they would not fork over the $300 needed for their concealed carry permit; these hillbillies would probably be dumb enough to put the gun right under the front seat of their truck and drive around with it, and not understand why it would be taken away from them in a traffic stop when a police officer pulled them over for that expired license and tail lights that don't work.

"Hello! I Can't Understand You!"

Ah, telemarketers. They call all day. May they rot in hell!

We get sales calls ALL. DAY. LONG.
They call to sell us Cialis. They call to 'update our free online listing'. They call to try to sell us credit card services. Debt Collections. And on, and on and on. When they call I give them a fake name if they ask who I am, so that in the future when they call, we know they are a salesperson.

What's so annoying is that most of these salespeople are foreigners; they are obviously sitting in Calcutta or Malaysia and reading off a script. If you are going to call and harass me, at least speak clearly enough so that I can understand you! I've resorted most days to just repeating, "What? What did you say? I can't understand you!" until they hang up. But some days, it's just fun. Try telling them, "Can you speak English please? I can't understand your language" and then they insist (often angrily) that they ARE speaking English! The madder they get, the worse it is.

*The Asians who keep calling to see if we want Cialis or Viagra; I sobbed one day and told the guy on the phone that the Cialis they sold my husband killed him. The guy said, "Dunt cry, do you take any medicines?" (Here I was a grieving widow and they are trying to SELL ME MEDS??) I 'sobbed' louder and he hung up. But other vultures call with the same spiel. Usually I just pretend I can't understand them, or I tell them that I'm a Christian Scientist and drugs are against my religion. Or that I have a big strap on so I don't need anything to enhance my erection. (I'm a woman)

*The credit card sales people. They are relentless! You can't get these pukes off the phone for anything. So, I finally resorted to, "We don't accept credit cards, they are the tools of the Devil." About half the time they thank me and hang up, the other half they go... "Huh?" or make other such puzzled musings. But, they never argue with me. (I'm waiting!)

*The collection agencies, promising to prosecute your bad checks at 99% success rate or better! They are always from another state (Thank you, Caller I.D.!) but they try to convince you they are right in your town. I always tell them we don't have bad checks, if they persist then I tell them we don't take checks because checks are tools of the devil. Then, they hang up.

*The 'appointment setters', they call wanting to schedule you a window cleaning, carpet cleaning, office cleaning, etc. They always say they are calling for so-and-so company right in our town. (But their phone number is always another state) I always ask, "Really, you are right here in (my town)?" and they insist they are. So then I say, "Huh, I didn't know we had a so-and-so company here, which office are you calling from?" And they always finally admit that they are calling from another state and they are an appointment setter. I always tell them that we pay illegals a dollar a day to do all our cleaning, thanks anyway. (We do our own cleaning. But I'm waiting for Immigration to call any day now.)

*The annoying sales jerks who won't take 'no' for an answer; I tell them to mail us materials. Well, one guy did, and his prices were so unbelievably high, it was unreal. So next time he called I told him no thanks. Only problem is, he KEPT calling; asking for my alias. He would not take no for an answer, so every time he called I told him I needed another catalog, as I had not gotten the last one (or three LOL) he'd sent. He finally got the message; no more calls, no more catalogs.

*The fundraisers! Most people don't know that when you get one of these fundraiser calls (Fireman, Police, handicapped kids, etc.) it's not the charity themselves, but a paid fundraiser who can take as much as 40% of all money raised. I won't deal with these people even as a private citizen, but to have them calling at work and INSISTING they are directly calling from so and so charity (when the caller ID shows they are not), really pisses me off. So now when they call, the gloves are off.
"Hello I'm calling on behalf of handicapped children": Why, can't they use the phone?
"Hello I'm calling on behalf of the police department": Our tax dollars aren't enough?
"Hello I'm calling for the fire department": They let my house burn down
You get the idea.

*Only slightly less annoying; the people trying to get handicapped people placed into jobs. Now, I worked with this type of agency a long time ago, I know they have a purpose. We only hire family members, and we do not have any job openings. However, when a job placement person gets on the phone and insists that yes we could help them out, and will not just politely say 'thank you' when I politely tell them no thanks, that gets really old. They push and push and argue, despite being told flat out that we are not hiring, period. I'm having to stop helping my customers to talk to you on the phone, and by being so pushy you are not helping your cause! I've finally resorted to telling them (after they refuse to hang up) that we don't hire the handicapped (ha). That usually sets them off. One even told me it was illegal to discriminate and I couldn't do that. (ha ha ha!) I told her to call the handicapped police on us, and hung up. Come on, you just aren't helping your cause by being so annoying.

*We used to get regular calls from various places that sell pens made by the handicapped (so they claim). Apparently one of the places we bought pens from sold our name. We've told them no a million ways, but they still call. So now when they call and identify themselves as selling pens made by handicapped people, I say, "You sell pens made by handicapped people?" and they go on and on about how they are benefitting these people they are exploiting; so I then say, "No, we can't get any good pens made by handicapped people, they don't work!" and along those lines. The calls have slowed down dramatically. We must be on the handicapped-salesperson-do-not-call list.

"I had him because I could!"

We have a couple who have been loan customers with us for several years. They are very ODD. I imagine she is with him because he's the only man who would have sex with her; he is probably with her because without her, his bills would not get paid and he'd just be another loser outrunning the creditors. Let's call them KC.

KC had a baby awhile back; he sure was cute. Then he started to walk, and they pretty much decided that it was ok to just let him go in our store while they ignored him. Now, our store is not kid friendly; it's that way for a reason. We don't sell anything for kids, the business is for adults, so there is no reason for kids to be set loose. We have tools, saw blades, sharp things like machetes, breakable items, etc. It is not a store where you turn your kids loose, like I see people do at family-centric retail stores. I am not a babysitter, you are responsible for the babies you birthed, so just watch them for chrissakes. That's all we ask!

Well, not KC. MomKC gets VERY UPSET if you tell her, or her husband, to watch their kid. She gets very unhappy when you have to physically retrieve her child FOR HER because she and her husband either cannot or will not hear you telling them to go get their kid, he has something sharp, don't climb the glass shelves, etc. It's like they are willfully ignorant you are all but screaming "GO GET YOUR KID!"

A few months ago KC couple come in and their kid is into everything, while they are ignoring him. He's two now. You don't turn your back on a two year old, ANYWHERE! But they apparently don't get it. Several times I've had to tell mom, and dad too, hey he's got this, he is climbing on that, go get him, etc. Every time, mom gives me this look like she's wanting to smack me. Hey fine, but get your kid first. I'm in the middle of trying to get a transaction done for her husband (who is off looking at movies while she is at the counter and the kid is running EVERYWHERE)....and I hear this shrieking wail. Her brat is behind our knife counter, clear back in the corner...how did he get that far back into a restricted area if a parent is watching?? Well, my very kid-friendly dog is within a few feet of him, the kid is stark terrified and screaming his head off. I've many times told his mom to keep him out from behind our counter because we do have a dog that hates kids and will bite if they come back there. I'm telling the kid to come out of there, he's standing and shrieking, so I picked him up and took him out to mom. She says angrily, "He's AFRAID OF DOGS!!!" I told her, well then watch him because he should not have been back behind my counter! She looks like she's about to start cussing.

Next time in, we have the kid literally running everywhere and touching everything again. Again, I have to say something to mom and dad, several times. They act like I'm some really mean harassing person and it's annoying the piss out of them that I keep pointing out to them that they have a child. I see the kid messing with our incense display (glass shelves); he's knocking fragile ceramics over left and right. I'm hollering "Don't touch that sweetie, put it down" and he looks RIGHT AT ME and keeps knocking stuff over. Mom is looking at me like I'm yelling "HI YA YA" , dad is ignoring all of this. ONE of us needs to do something, guess it's me, so I walk around and physically remove him from where he is standing. Next thing I know he's SCREAMING and climbing up me like I'm a tree. Mom finally snaps out of her fog and comes over; "He's scared of the dog!" My dog (who loves kids) had followed me out onto the floor when I ran out from behind the counter. The kid is clinging to me, yeah that's sweet but sheesh kid if you had been by your mom we would not be in this situation. (He really is a cute kid, but they are not doing him any favors here.) Mom snatches him back, and they leave after that.

Today, here they come again. Mom goes to the counter and turns her back on dad and kid; kid runs to the tool aisle and grabs a huge ratchet handle and starts swinging it around. Yes, there are glass displays right by there, we have other customers, other items that can be broken. Not to mention the parents would probably scream 'sue' if their precious little tyke hurt himself while they were willfully careless. Dad is nowhere to be found; he just can't be bothered, ever. I did the usual "Put that down sweetie, come over here by mom". Kid ignores me, swings harder, mom just stands there doing nothing. Dad is clueless. Finally I directly told the dad to go get his kid; he stands by him and watches him swinging the tool. I needed dad to sign something, so I called out for dad to come sign. He turns his back on the kid and starts to walk away from him! (WTH??) So I said, "Bring him with you when you sign this!" and only then does it occur to him to notice that he has a kid somewhere. I'm needing a drink by this point. (And I don't drink). Mom says, "It was so much easier when he was in a car seat!" YA THINK???? I'd like to strap his ass into one NOW!

Just seeing them coming into the store, I can feel my blood pressure spiking. Would it be rude to hand them a roll of duct tape as they enter? And why is it, the less likely someone is to raise a child properly, the more fertile they are????

"Earth to Aiden!"

Guy comes in to pay a bill. Brings a toddler boy with him, who promptly runs over to the tools area while daddy ignores him. I called out to the boy, "Honey, come back over here with daddy, ok?" Daddy feebly calls out, 'Aiden, Aiden, come over here...." but boy ignores him and starts to pick up (fragile, non-toy) figurines.
I said, "Young man, put those down and come back over with your dad!" Daddy turns to me with a very pissed off look and says, sarcastically, "He's TWO, like he understands you!"
I was really taken aback; I understand a parent not wanting a stranger correcting their child, but it's simply a matter of watching your kid. Period. End of story! I understand, really, but where is your embarrassment that someone HAD to say something to your offspring?
So I said to daddy, "I assume he understands the word 'no'? That's why we have a sign on the door about kids in here."
Daddy says sarcastically, smart-assedly, and snottily, "He's two, like he can read!" I replied, "Hopefully the parents can read." (hint hint, assface!)
Daddy says, "If he breaks anything then I'll pay for it." I told him it shouldn't get to that point if he's watching his kid.
Daddy was VERY upset by this point. He's called "AIDEN, Aiden" a hundred times, and little Aiden apparently can't understand a damned thing, because he's gleefully ignoring daddy and doing whatever he damned well pleases; just as he does all the time apparently.
Finally daddy physically retrieved Aiden, which made Aiden very unhappy, which in turn pained daddy that he had to deal with bratty Aiden.
As daddy has Aiden at the counter and tries to pay his bill, I hear a crash/clink sound. Aiden has managed to latch on to several ceramic items on a shelf right behind daddy, and since daddy can't be bothered to hold onto him or even watch him, Aiden is treating our merchandise as if it's free toy day at the Dollar Store. I sighed and stood there with daddy's bill and his money, staring pointedly at Aiden until daddy was forced to address his demon spawn. He was just about boiling mad at this point, and NOT at his kid! This was fascinating to me.
If that was my child... well I can't even paint that scenario. I always kept my kid WITH me and even (gasp!) picked him up so he could not touch/break/destroy things. But this daddy apparently only cared about making the Aiden happy, not raising him properly.

I hope he enjoys the Parenting magazine free trial that should hit his doorstep within a few weeks. Not that he'll read it. Aiden will probably tear it up long before daddy sees it.

Mary, Mary, Quite Cuntrary

No, that is not a typo. And yes, Mary is her real name.

So we have this customer named Mary. Mary is very special. Ten years ago she was told by one of the store owners never to come back; yet here we are ten years later still dealing with her, despite her repeated ill treatment of just about every person who has worked there. Her favorite action is to hang up on you when you are talking. Yeah, one of those kinds.

When I first started at the shop many moons ago, I was told about Mary, and it all seemed hard to believe; how could one person be so hateful, spiteful, dirty, filthy, and mean? And then one day, she called. But I did not know it was her; in fact it sounded like a man... and she asked about a loan in a man's name (her brother-in-law, I later found out). I said, "Who is this calling? I know Bob, and this is not him." He (she) said, "I'm NOT Bob! He's my BIL!" I said, "Calm down sir," and was interrupted by, "I'm a woman! I'm not a man! This is Mary ______!" (OOPS! I felt like such a heel...but honest to GOD she sounds like a three pack a day male smoker!) She proceeded to be very rude, surly, and generally unpleasant on the phone. She also loves to argue when you tell her interest is due on her loans; in five years she's never deviated from that script. Anyway, that was my introduction to the monster that is Mary. She was rude to the other two girls who worked there during this time; thank goodness for Caller I.D. though there was a scramble of 'your turn!' whenever her name popped up on it. On another day she was SO unpleasant, it was all I could do not to tell her to shove it and hang up on her. After the second or third time of her raising her voice to me and TALKING!LIKE!THIS!, I said, "Ma'am please don't raise your voice to me, I can't hear you when you shout"...and IT WORKED! She called back later that day and did the same yelling routine to the other girl working; the other girl said, "Please don't yell, I can't hear you when you yell"...and it worked! For almost a year, Mary was somehow able to keep a civil tongue in her head. But like most good things, it had to come to an end.

She called another time, accused me of being a 'liar' when I told her she had only paid once on an item as she insisted she was current. She likes to let things slide until they are almost due, and then pay a little but nowhere near what is due, then argue that she's been paying regularly. It's like dealing with a child. After being called a liar, having her yell at me, and then hanging up on me in mid-explanation, she was sent a letter by store owner telling her basically if she can't act like a decent human being, she was welcome to shop elsewhere (and in fact PLEASE do so). But no, like a festering sexual disease, she keeps coming back.

For an amusing twist; we had a new employee start a year ago. He ALSO called Mary "Sir" when she called asking about a loan, and got an indignant, irate response. Hey, she sounds manlier than he does on the phone. Whatchagonnado?

She came into the store once, and I almost ran screaming. She is about five foot tall and probably at least that wide. She does not bathe, and came in wearing a housecoat and slippers. They make sweats to fit, at least put some clothes on!! Greasy dank, lank hair. Body odor galore. So her personality rather fit her appearance! It was like hearing about Big Foot, and actually MEETING Big Foot! So this was the abuser on the other end of the phone. PHEWWWW she needs to stay on the phone.....

Her son comes in and pawns things, he's a real winner. He's done jail time, is slimy, and keeps trying to get loans on items that are missing parts and he insists, he swears!...that all the parts are there. Come on dude, you think no one else owns an iPod and doesn't know they come with headphones and a cable?? Give us a break, we are not as stupid as you are. He never likes the amount we are willing to loan him, and when we point out how much of his stupid crap we've owned, he denies it was him. (yawn!) He got a loan on a Playstation; and lost it because he did not manage to pay even two dollars of interest any time within 90 days. He had a serious fit when he found out it was out for sale. Someone had put that there was a memory card on the loan ticket; but we could not find a memory card when it went out for sale. (I think that was an oversight and it did not have one...) So in letting him pick up the item, we knocked some of the amount off to cover the 'lost' item. He STILL became mouthy and would not stop being a dick at the counter, even though he was charged zero interest and even more money was taken off for the memory card; the cards cost $20 at Walmart, he got a lot more than $20 knocked off the tab. But was it good enough? No. He yapped and bitched so much that my brother (who was helping him) finally said, "Dude, shut the f_ck up!" I almost fell down dead on the spot, he does NOT talk this way to customers. But the guy did shut the f-ck up. That day. (I'd like to get a shirt made that says 'Dude STFU' as a surprise....)

Fast forward, I get to work today and am told that Mary called yesterday and was so off the wall, that she was told she needs to go to another shop from now on. I was barely prepared when she called again today and I got to answer it. True to form, she was hateful and accusatory and ended up asking me all the same stupid stuff she already wasted time with yesterday; I patiently repeated it. She also lost some stuff that she cannot get back, as was told to her yesterday, but today she acted like she'd never heard any of this stuff. (Does she think we don't talk to each other around here?) Then she called back a second time and did it again. I finally told her she could come down here and deal with the owner but she didn't. She sent her BIL. I'm not sure what is wrong with him; maybe fetal alcohol syndrome or too much hillbilly inbreeding, he's nice but he is definitely low-functioning as is the majority of that family. I'd rather deal with him than her any day; he has his moments but he doesn't have her hatefulness. (He does buy a lot of porn! Maybe that's why he's so easygoing.)

Here's hoping that when the disability checks come out first of July, she takes all the family's checks somewhere else. It's worth it to be rid of her. It's like the phone rings and you know Satan is on the phone and he's going to suck your soul out of you. Some days when I see her name come up on the Caller I.D., I have to take a moment to draw a deep breath and brace myself to deal with her. If I wanted to take this kind of abuse, I'd go back to work for Wal-Mart, no thanks.