Nothing Day

So, nothing much happened today. It was a pretty blah day. I'll have more exciting news tomorrow for yous. You know who you are!!

xo

J

The Simple Life... Part Deux

Just when you think they've all gone home and you're safe for another day. Out they come again. The short bus rolls back into town and you're left to fend for yourself. You can't outrun them. You can't hide. You can't escape. They know where you are and just how to find you. Don't try to figure out how. It just is. It's as simple as that.

So I'm outside of the mall having a smoke break with a couple of other gals. I bring my book. I always do. I'm a loner. I like to sit alone, read my book, and have a smoke. Not this day. Not even a little. I go out and start to chat with the other ladies when this "gentleman" (And I use the term "gentleman" ever so lightly) comes up to where we are all sitting. He's talking to himself. Not in a mumbling sort of way either. He's full-fledged talking to himself. And loving it.

We keep on about our business. Business being smoking and talking about various crazies we've seen that day or how dead it is in our various stores. All of a sudden, this "gentleman" freaks out. Loudly. He seems to have misplaced his lighter. He's yelling and screaming and pacing frantically. Someone miraculously locates said missing lighter. With no thank you, "gentleman" continues on his way.

We take a couple more drags and "gentleman" returns. With a vengeance. He's yelling a little bit louder now. He then decides that he needs to take a rester and sits down a little bit from us. Now it's time to roll a joint.

That's right.

A joint.

At the mall.

On a Thursday afternoon.

In plain sight.

Somebody must have called security because out comes one of our finest guards threatening to call the cops. Well, "gentleman" freaks out (After completing the smoking of the joint) and then decides to show us how he would fight the po-po should they show up. He demonstrates his best judo chops, roundhouse kicks, crouching tiger, hidden dragon shit and says that he will bust these moves on the cops.

Keep in mind that we only had a few minutes for a break and clearly over ran our time limits while staying for the show. We must have smoked a pack between 4 of us and nobody could breathe when we went in. You just can't leave while that sort of free show is going on.

If that weren't enough, "gentleman" must have come down from his Mary Jane high. He finally realizes that the cops have been called and begins to host another spaz session. (Keep in mind that it's been about 10 minutes since the police have been called and clearly aren't coming.) He starts yelling that he can't find the keys to his vehicle and he needs to leave.

Us girls are still trying not to piss ourselves since nobody wore their depends and are trying not to look at Judo Chop. Some random person locates "gentleman's" key and he scurries off in search of his vehicle.

About 4 minutes later, as we're all laughed out and ready to go back to work, "gentleman" comes burning around the corner in his vehicle.

It was a mini BMX motorbike. 0.5 horsepower. Aptly suited for a 7 year old with training wheels.

Wait for it....




You may now laugh.

The Simple Life...

I went in to work today expecting a normal, work filled day. Little did I know that the construction workers who are renovating the store behind mine could potentially see all that goes on in my back room.

Turns out they can.

They so can.

They so did. Well, one of them did. And dear God, did he get an eyeful.

I was getting ready to go clean up the back room to prep for inventory and had to change out of my work clothes into a grubby t-shirt. It can get dirty back there, and I didn't want to get covered in dust.

Turns out that both dressing rooms were full so I opted to go into the back room. Usually it seems harmless to do so because nobody can see in or over the wall separating the stores.

Anyway, I'm unbuttoning my blouse and getting my t-shirt prepped.

Blouse is off, t-shirt is on my arms. You know the position, your arms are in the sleeves, but it's not over your head yet.

It's almost over my head now, and for some unknown reason, I decide to look up. Guess what I see? A smiling, slightly red-faced construction worker.

I proceed to pull the t-shirt over my head. Look down, and scurry out of the back room towards the front of the store.

A couple of minutes later, the power in our store goes out momentarily. Turns out the workers are on the same breaker as us. One can only assume that at the sight of my voluptuous mammaries, said horny construction worker blew a fuse. Or cut a power cord while thinking about the twins.

They are the 8th Wonder of the World.

No wonder I want a reduction. Brings grown men to blowing their circuits.

My Day

10:45- Get out of bed, shower, dry, dress.

11:20- Sit for a smoke

11:35- Leave for work

11:53- Go to corner store, get cold water

12:00- Start my day, play with panties (not mine)

12:30- Check watch, it's not 9pm yet. Damn

1:00- Check watch again, still not 9, arrange said playful panties

2:00- Smoke break, read 2 chapters of book

2:30- Assistant goes on lunch, I sing, dance around store a little, wish it was 9

2:45- Wax racks, arrange clothing

3:00- Check watch again, maybe it's broken

3:15- Bathroom break, detour by music and book stores

4:00- Go for smoke break, read 1 page, gossip with other mall workers

4:15- Check watch, almost supper

4:45- Send assistant on break, ring in one solitary $4.99 bathing suit cover-up

5:00- Supper time, heat up cup-a-soup

5:05- Shake, Shake, Shake my Crystal Light

5:14- Finished cup-a-soup, read some book. Loiter in back room

6:00- Supper over, send assistant home, wish it was 9

7:00- Look busy, flick clothing on racks to make shuffling, clinking noises

7:15- Check all available time pieces, still not 9

7:30- Talk to boyfriend and parents on the phone briefly

8:00- Start counting cash, cleaning up work area

8:30- Almost time to leave!!

8:45- Put out garbage, pull in racks and check time

9:00- Announcement goes off, mall is closed, Boob Lady is HAPPY!!

9:03- Inhale delicious nectar of cigarette in car on way home

Monkey See, Monkey Do

We went to the zoo today. Let me tell you, I didn't want to go out. I wanted to laze around in my pyjamas all day and do nothing. Laundry, clean, cook, eat, sleep. That's it. Nothing more.

After much deliberation, (And might I add, a few carefully placed pouts on the man's part) I sucked it up and we left.

Amazingly, I had a good time. I yukked it up with a zebra, I let a donkey lick my hand, and I got some funny pictures of monkeys doing cute things.

These monkeys were very smart. It was like they were little old men. One of them was born in 1980, which to me, just seems wrong. I mean, the frigging monkey is my age. Another, Gina, was born in 1971. Hilarious. She looked it too. :)

The highlight of the afternoon though, was probably when the lions we were calmly watching began to fight. It was short lived however, much to the chagrin of the man, who was egging them on. He really wanted to see a lion fight.

Better luck next time I suppose.

All in all it was a fun afternoon. It was even funnier when we came home and he challenged the neighbour to a one-on-one game of basketball for money. The man kicked said neighbour's ass from here to Tuesday. It was hilarious.

The neighbour is five.

You may all bow your heads.

Greatest Phone Call EVER

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you have toys there?"

"I do not, no."

"What about lotions, oils, that kind of thing?"

"I'm sorry, no. I don't have anything like that here, we have pyjamas, bras, that kind of thing."

"Okay."

"Sorry I couldn't help you. Have a nice night."

"Oh, wait!"

"Yes?"

"Do you know where I could find toys and things like that?"

"Um... Maybe you should try one of the adult stores, they'd have stuff like that."

"Okay, thanks."

Uhhh, WTF??

Seriously, how many classy lingerie shops carry toys?

Not frigging many.

So why do I always get the wierdos?

Who knows.

Just plain lucky I guess.

Beach Anyone?

So we went to the beach today. No, you're right. It IS March 15th. And it WAS cold. Very cold.

It might have had something to do with the fact that I wore sandals. Meh.

We got some beach treasure and some pictures. The pictures are grey, windy, and cold. Oh, wait, that's what it was like outside.

I thought I might lose a toe, but alas, it was only numb. Not gone. I cranked the heat on my poor purple tootsies and managed somehow to save them. All 10. Makes you appreciate the fact that, although you don't need them all the time, they look great in sandals.

Usually, like when they're not purple, frozen solid, and tingling.

Love your toes, appreciate them, honor them. Don't go to the beach before June.

Cankles

I feel like I have cankles tonight.

Big, fat, juicy cankles.

Being on your feet all day with hardly any customers and one solitary box of transfers takes its toll on my poor gams.

The day was uneventful as it was, the most action I got today was the strange man that kept walking by my store and staring at my light box. While smiling. Strangely.

I should tell you that in my light box, there is a half naked woman, who has been perfectly sprayed with some sort of vegetable oil to look wet, and is posing provacatively.

If you ask me, she just looks greasy. We're talking trailer trash greasy. The way I can look on a Sunday if I choose not to shower on my day off.

And, it looks like her arm is broken. In more than one place.

Meh. I'm off anyway, and back in the morning. A few hours of peace never hurt anyone.

Bwaaaahh!!!

All in all it was another lazy Sunday. Nothing much happened. Must have eaten something that did not agree with me (Although, that's not an unlikely occurance as it is...) and spent most of my day in a ball on the couch.

Meh.

My boyfriend thinks that I have a gambling problem. You see, I sit at the computer and play online poker a few times a day. Okay, most of the day. When I'm off.

Okay, and when I get off work too. But, it's not real money. It's all play, and it's fun. Lots and lots of fun.

The funny thing is, that when he was playing a "few" hands this evening, he lost me about 22k. In one hand. A bad one. So, after that happened, it was okay for me to play for a bit, because, you see, it was only play money.

Who's the gambler now biatch?

xo

The Hills Have Eyes...

...and I wonder if they can see that I now have a major case of Quasimodo neck. We were super stoked to go to the movie tonight and when we got there two terrible things happened.

1) The line-ups for food were waaaay long and I didn't get anything to eat. Did you hear me? I didn't get anything to eat. *sniff*

2) We ended up having to sit in the front row since all of the other good seats were taken. Fack.

There's nothing I hate more than being in the front row of the movie theatre. With no food to boot.

All in all the movie was good, which made the terrible seating and LACK OF FOOD somewhat bearable.

Work was okay today, not many crazies in the mall. March break is almost over and all of the hooligans will soon be back in school. It couldn't come a moment too soon. If I had to watch one more pre-pubescent couple making out on the bench in front of my store, I was going to toss my cookies.

Whether I ate any or not.

The Diet Nazi

My boyfriend is the diet nazi. I swear. He has a little moustache and a little green uniform. It's hot.

We decided about 2 months ago that we were going to go on a low calorie diet. It's working, we've both lost a lot of weight, but still, a girl needs her treats. Especially when ol' Aunt Flo is in town. Know what I mean?

So we're getting groceries tonight, and I swear, everything single thing I said I wanted, got vetoed.

So I wanted cookies, chips, nachos, ice cream, AND pop tarts. Who doesn't?

Long story short, we're eating toilet paper and Dexatrim tacos for the next week. If I'm lucky, I can wash mine down with warm water.

We're having a dinner party and you're all invited.

BYOTP

Ignorance is Bliss

Remind me to never call my parents past 10.

Please.

A 10 p.m cut off time is essential when your folks are back in the honeymoon stages of their relationship. Don't get me wrong, I love it, but am equally disturbed by it at the same time.

They made me, and now I know how. Or at least what it might have sounded like.

Dear Lord.

Back to work tomorrow. My two days off are officially over. Back to the saggy boobs I go.

Jealous? Thought so.

Gee Willickers!

The shaggin' wagon is officially fixed. You can all bow your heads and give me an "Amen". $160 and a quick flash of the twins, and it's drive-worthy again. (Mom- I didn't really have to flash anyone, well, not the entire boob, maybe just the tops.) Anyhoo, the beast is back on the road and I couldn't be happier.

Actually, I could.

I could not be driving a Kia, aka: Death Mobile, Piece-o-Shit, Shit Mobile, and/or any variation of those words. I suppose I should be thankful that I actually have a car to drive, since I am a little scurred to take the city run busses. Thinking of creepy men asking me if I'd like a bite of their hotdogs, and asking me which stop I'm getting off at, and then conviently getting off there too. Couldn't do it.

I could however, deal with a new car. Not even a brand new one, just a new to me car.

Meh.

Something smells fishy

Something Smells Fishy

The cat, aka Jack, Pookie, human in feline form. Seriously. I'm not kidding. I wish that this was a full length picture because then you would be able to see that he is actually standing on his back legs in the middle of a hop. You see, he doesn't jump like cats usually do. Most cats jump on the counters, up the curtains, or even onto windowsills. My cat however, does not. I'm convinced that he cannot actually jump at all. This is the cat that falls of the arm of the couch, bangs into walls, and sleeps like a little human; head on pillow, body under the warmth of my blanket. Taking up much of the space might I add, so that when I wake in the morning, my poor aching body is in positions it never even dreamed about.

Example: My mother came to visit me in December and lucky for her, she got to share a bed with me and the little one. Now, don't be alarmed, my bed is huge. My boyfriend decided that it would be improper God forbid, if we touched during the night. That being said, the bed is about 10 ft wide. So, mom got one whole bed to herself essentially, and Jack and I got the other. She said that when she woke up one morning, all she could see was the back of my head, and a pair of blue eyes staring at her over me. His paw was on my cheek as though we had just been caught in a forbidden embrace.

So, here he sits, on my lap. My left leg is numb. I couldn't be happier.

Crikey, I'm Poor

So, I'm going hooking this evening. I'm convinced that it's the only way that I'll be afford to live. Apart from working a 95 hour 2 week span, I can get a little extra on the side. Money I mean.

I went to pick up a few essentials today, you know, toilet paper, popcorn, and don't forget the ice cream. Damn. I'm not supposed to eat ice cream. But, think about it, I NEED something to put onto my warm apple crisp. It just simply can't be plain.

But I digress.

I was paying for my food and it struck me; I can't afford this. Not even a little bit. Especially when you factored in the smokes that I still had to buy, and the car repair that has to be done tomorrow which, might I add, my parents are paying for. God love them for continuing to support their almost 26 year old daughter. It's sad really. They keep me out of the gutter. At this rate, my parents will NEVER retire.

Enter the hooking prospect. I'm not sure where one goes to get started.. Do I go to a support group? A hooker's banquet?

So many decisions.

Tuesday is the new Friday

I've got my first two consecutive days off since Christmas starting tomorrow. So, tomorrow is my Saturday. It couldn't have come at a better time. The car troubles, the usual money woes, and of course, being overworked and getting to the point of potentially snapping someone's neck.
Seriously.

You wouldn't believe how many idiots that there are out there. I am convinced that they all convene; be it on the internet, on some sort of party line, or under a bridge, band together, combine all their super powers, and decide that they will all take the same short bus to the mall. On the same day no less.

There's the two old men; you know the ones, the ones that nobody is sure if they're gay or not, who do laps around the mall from open to close. They wear bad 70's leisure suits, and gawk at all the young things. Obscenely.

There's the cougar; the 48 year old woman in the tight jeans and cut off tee, white tube socks and high heels, and a bad 80's perm-teased even. She lurks in all of the stores that potential mates may hang around. You might even know her.

Then, to top it off, there's the kids. They're all on March Break now, and guess where they come? God forbid that they get some fresh air on a beautiful day, no, they come to the mall, throw bouncy balls into stores and make out in the food court. If, by chance, a group of teenage boys come in, you're sure to have an unsuspecting male or two pushed right on in to your store. Only the lucky ones...

Besides that, all is well. Rented a couple of flicks tonight, will relax, not work, eat a treat, and not work. Until Friday. 2 days. No work.

There is a God.

Monday Monday

Another Monday come and gone. As usual, Monday always seems to be the day that all those things that can go wrong, will.

I've been having problems with my car over the past couple of weeks. I strongly suggest that nobody buys a Kia. Ever. No matter how desperate you may be. Even if it's the last car on the planet. Don't buy it. That being said, one of my springs is broken and will cost "approximately" $300. I say approximately because that's what I was told by a mechanic at one of the major auto centres around these parts. Let's call it "Granadian Fire". All I had to do was call around and lo and behold I got me some better prices. Who knew?

A little golden nugget from work today to pique your interest...
I have a sale rack at the front of the store with all of the absolute mish mash in the store on it. Just waiting for a good home. We're talking things that I'm pretty sure nobody wants and/or needs. Nighties, camisoles, pants. The stuff that only the really skinny people can fit into. (Jerks) They're priced anywhere from $2.99 to $39.99. Not really that expensive.

So, this woman comes in who is very well put together, nice purse, nice coat, the works. She clearly has more than $2.99. She brings the cheap-o tank to the counter and asks me.... Are you ready for this?

"Will this go down in price any more than this?" (I had to stifle my laughter with a conveniently placed cough.)

"Um, no, I'm sorry, I think that's probably as low as it will go." (without me actually giving it away, which I considered mind you...)

"Well, can I bring it back if it doesn't fit?" (Again, WHAT??)

"No, I'm afraid not, that's a final sale."

"Okay, well, I guess I won't get it then." (I'm thinking, Holy Hell woman, use it for a frigging rag.)

So, she leaves, and as she is putting the "rag tank" on the rack, it falls off the hanger on to the floor. She leaves it there. On the floor. In a ball.

Meh.

Lazy Sunday

So we had some houseguests last night. Our good friend J and his 4 year old daughter. Well, let me tell you, on your first enjoyable day off of the week, when said 4 year old comes in to your room just as the sun has crept into your window, and wiggles a bell in your ear (a bell which you're not entirely sure where it came from) and says (in an exaggerated 4 year old whisper) "Are you awake?", you wish you were a better actress.

I can't fake the sleep thing, I blink too rapidly under my eyelids, and usually twitch one leg. These occurances happen completely randomly and are not in any way concious, I just know that I'm doing them. So, long story short, I was busted.

I then had to trudge out of my cozy nest of a bed, slip into my most comfortable "comfy pants", and whip up a delicate blend of cut up apples, and grape juice. This was merely a diversionary tactic on her part, as once I was finished the culinary portion of the morning, I was duped into watching some cartoons. All this while the men slept. Soundly.

What could possibly be better than...

...staring at boobs of all shapes and sizes all day? If you're a man, probably nothing. If you're a woman, well, then I guess it depends. If you're a straight woman, and would probably prefer not to stare at them, anything is better. Anything.
It's astounding how many people get excited to the point of giggling when I tell them what I do as a job. I manage a lingerie shop. That's it, nothing special about that. There's nothing like going in to work early in the morning, fresh from the trauma of the previous days' ninety year old breasts, and coming face to face with 95 year old breasts. And hairy armpits. Did I mention the hairy armpits? That's right.
Ew.
Fittings, helping them put the bras on, seeing things no mere mortal should see, it's not that exciting. I promise you. Now that we've got that covered, let's move on shall we?