Happy shiny people
Sometimes happy people make me angry.
Returning home from the library, I stopped at my neighborhood chain convenience store, a common occurrence for me, to pick up a couple of sundries. A giant sign in the front window congratulated the new owner. Okay, fine, new owner, congrats.
Stepping inside though, I was swimming in a sea of colorful balloons and couldn't help but laugh at the cake sitting near the entrance, conveniently sliced into equally tiny pieces for me, the customer. Each employee was smiley and well-dressed and I didn't recognize one of them. Odd.
Where is my moody, dark-haired lady clerk? Where is the big-manager-dude with the hideous ties? I fear that they may be gone.
Instead, someone who I am fairly certain to be a former member of 98 Degrees "helped" me. His obscenely insincere smile stretched wide from pierced lobe-to-pierced lobe and his frosted hair sparkled in the fluorescence as he handed me my receipt and offered me cake.
WTF? Just let me pay for my tp and drink and continue on with my gray afternoon, okay?
posted by DMo at 5:17 PM
RSS Feed
2 Comments:
I hope you didn't partake of the cake - strangers could've put their grodie, snotty fingers on it. Ew.
6:56 PM
I know just the thing to cure you: a trip to the Rite-Aid on 700 East near 200 South. Thirty-something women cashiers who may or may not be mail order brides from somewhere in the Eastern Bloc, coupled with a security guard who will advise you, somewhat creepily, on your choice of cold medicine await. I don't know if it's the lighting in there or what, but they are definitely not shiny happy people. Plus your chances for finding 2-for-1 bikini cream are high.
4:32 PM
Post a Comment
<< Home