One of my favorite pastimes is watching people try to load large pieces of furniture into small cars.
Would it be out of line to put a huge “Your Sob Story Won’t Work On Me” sign on our front door?
I’m actually really excited to read these.
Short answer? No.
Hey there, this book look promising and maybe a little nau- oh goddammit. Now I’m going to have to read this shit anyway and just be angry and annoyed the whole time.
Ugh.
There is a really adorable couple in the shop right now and they are making me vomit.
Motherfucker.
We have a rather nice floral-patterned wingback chair upstairs. The only problem with it is that the seat cushion is a bit ripped up and we haven’t been able to afford to get it reupholstered yet.
So because of that reason, we only have $20 on it. If it had a proper cushion it would be priced much higher.
Anyway, this guy just came in and asked about it. “Upstairs you have a chair with a ripped up cushion for $20. What’s the lowest you’ll go on it?”
I then explain that while yes, the cushion is ripped, we’re still hopefully going to get it fixed someday, and when we do the price will go up. So I won’t go any lower on the price.
“Well I was going to offer you five bucks for it.”
“No.”
“Well down the street I saw another one in MUCH better condition for only ten bucks.”
“You could always buy that one instead.”
And then he left.
The moral of this story is that the customer is very rarely fucking right. And that bullshit attitude/saying makes every turn into entitled assholes.
I should just change the opening hours on Tuesdays to, like, 10:30 since I’m late every week anyway.
Well that girl seemed genuinely disappointed that she had to talk to me in order to pay for her stuff.
And thus, for half an afternoon, I knew what it was like to have moderately high self-esteem.
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