Thursday, October 12, 2006

Satan's Minions

I've been to Hell. Let me tell you, it ain't pretty.

On the eve of Friday the 13th, I was to work the morning shift.

I went through most of my day without distraction, accident, or disturbance.

That is until one of my girls had to go home sick and there was no replacement.

Let me rephrase that. I was the only replacement.

So, instead of getting off at 6 like I was supposed to, I worked a double. With no pee break.

And no supper.

Then I had to schedule myself to work ON Friday the 13th.

My day off.

So, I start the second leg of my double, and all seems to be going relatively smoothly, considering.

About a half an hour into the pee-less, supper-less evening, a mother and her two young boys came into the store.

They were adorable, they looked like little twins, although they were about two years apart.

Blond hair, blue eyes, little angels right?

WRONG!!!!!!!

The two little beasts started to run around the store while mom was asking me about bras and matching panties.

When I say running, I mean, bobbing, weaving, interlacing themselves within my racks. They were rolling on the floor, giggling maniacally.

I swear, at one point, one of them had red eyes.

Mom excuses herself, turns to the brats, and scolds them appropriately.

Wrong again.

Next, younger Satan spawn starts to circle the panty table like a shark circling its prey.

As mom continues talking, I'm nodding and smiling, all the while keeping my eyes on the little hellion.

Next thing I know, I've gasped out loud.

Mom turns around just in time to see Bratty McBratterson clawing at clumps of panties and dropping them in piles on the floor.

We're talking about 175 pairs of panties.

I shit you not.

Mother promptly turns away, apologizing profusely and tells me she will return once she has them restrained.

About 15 minutes later, mom and the Bobbsey Twins come back.

Mother is calmer, the twins are strapped into a stroller so that they can't properly move any extremities and/or wreak havoc.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips and I am able to make a sale.

This is the first time in my entire life that I seriously contemplated bodily harm against a person under the age of 3.

Pray for my soul.

2 comments:

Some Guy said...

I am captivated by your stories! You have the patience of a saint!

The Boob Lady said...

HA! You'd think so wouldn't you? Does it count that I swore out loud after they left? And I was alone? Or that I left the panty table for one of my lackeys to do the next morning?