Good grief, Charlie Brown - the freaks come out to play on Sundays. And pester, and haggle over miniscule percentage differences, and subject you to moronic questions, and act beligerent, and express paranoia, and anything else they can muster - any and all "freak" qualities are on display, in the sunny-side up world of Border's retail. I worked my second shift of the weekend (just what I want on my weekend, correct?) today, from 8am until 3pm, and was flabbergasted at the sheer enormity of freaks that frequented our store. They poked, prodded, and passed the time away in our store, whiling away their minutes by dragging ours down, incessantly lobbying for requests or imploring questions each more ludicrous than the next. "May I have a 2% discount on the difference?" "Will customers run behind your cash registers and grab my book?" "Can I give you two different last names?" (answer: no).
Siiiiiiiiiiigh. I suppose it is the price to pay, the weight to bear, the curse to suffer, when one's employed within the circus that is retail. It takes all kinds, this dizzying contraption, and let me tell you, those kinds are "freaks", who arrive in hordes, on Sunday afternoons. The best thing that can be said about my shift today is that it ended.
At least I was able to watch "Borat" last night - now THERE'S a slideshow of freaks that I can get excited about.
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