I've decided that I'm tired of working the register. With my new fancy schmancy "Sales Associate" tag, I've found that I have the freedom to walk around and basically do whatever the fuck I want. You know what's still fun? Riding around on palette jacks. Seriously. It's awesome. I should do a whole post about them.
I've also found that I've about fucking had it with stupid customers. That awesome pen that I used in two previous comics is no more thanks to some stupid bitch that threw it down into the depths of the area between the buttons on the register and the part of the counter that holds it up. I'll never ever get it back because of that dumb motherfucker.
What really matters though, is that through my hours of wasting time in the garden center, I've come to really appreciate the muzak. A coworker refers to it as "what's on Sam Walton's iPod." And apparently the dead guy loves Hall and Oates. Weird. Nirvana came on the other night and I was more than a little perturbed. BB King's "The Thrill Is Gone" was the soundtrack to a night of playing in the clearance aisle. It almost made work enjoyable. Almost. Kinda. Not really.
But it seems that the whole point of the overhead music is to convince me that I need shitty $5 "Best Of" compilations. I've been tricked into buying way too many of these things. With my hours getting cut, this is the last thing I need to be doing. Oh well.
Also, I had this whole thing written up and forgot to hit "publish." Whoops.
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