Saturday, January 24, 2009

I'm back bitches!

Yes, I'm back sans wonderful stories about the Rookie Bitches. I'm sorry folks, but those days are over with. No, I didn't quit or get fired. I got transferred to the Men's Shoe aka the lesser of the two evils. It's great working there. The only problem is that I'm always alone. You know me. I can't stop talking if my life depended on it.

I contemplated on changing my blog name, but I realized, I'm still a shoesalesman, and I do still have perils. So, the amazingly awesome name shall stick.

I do need to dress this blog up a bit. I'm new to this whole thing, so gimme time.

With all of the things I've been through the last few months, I've started making goals for myself.

Goals
  1. Take charge of my life and live it how I want, not how others want.
  2. Care more for myself emotionally and physically.
  3. Get outta debt.
  4. Meet new people.
  5. Do better in school.
Yes. Simple goals. I must say, I have failed at all five of them. But, it's way early in the game. So things can turn around for the best, right? =D

Welp, that's all for now. Thanks for reading.

<3

"Hunger hurts but starving works when it becomes too much to love." -Fiona Apple, Paper Bag

Monday, December 1, 2008

Black Friday, Bloody Saturday

Ah, Black Friday: the biggest shopping day of the year. You can practically smell the utter chaos and confusion, can’t you? And you’d be right. Back to my conclusion that women are messy, there were shoes all over the place. Baby Phat on the Coach table; Style & Co on the EMU table; boxes of unwanted shows stacked high—which I might add that JF, the Purchase Chick, stacked them because she was too lazy to put them back *insert ‘I wanna kill you’ face*

The customers weren’t so terrible on Friday. Usually, I get crabby customers that want what they want right now. Don’t even dare help another customer; they will bitch like none other—like we’re fucking or something. A few weeks ago, I had this one lady chew me out because I brought back her shoes and helped two other customers. She was pissed because I “was helping other people and didn’t bother checking on [her].” When in reality, every time I checked on her, she gave me a dirty look. So I said fuck it.

The one thing I truly had a problem with on Friday was the Rookie Bitches—even though I only worked with one of them, they come as a package; if one fucks up, they all fall. First of all, I expected not only utter chaos and shoes everywhere, but also yelling, shoe snatching, and lots of cursing between me and the Rookie Bitches: you know, blog-worthy shit. No, I was jipped. The Foreign Bitch, GL—the main one I was working with and the main one I want to slap—was actually nice to me. Not only did she gave up two customers and helped me with a customer, but she did the most un-Rookie-Bitch-esque thing: she actually talked to me.

Now, I’m not talking about a ‘hi’ or ‘bye,’ but full-fledged conversation. She asked me if I worked another job or if I go to school. She asked me what classes I was taking. But probably the most ironic thing we talked about is how she thinks Arabs are the most ignorant people ever. I totally didn’t see that coming. Well, ok, the main reason why they “are the most ignorant people ever” were more so ghetto, then ignorant. And giving that she lives in East Dearborn, I’ll give her that. She talked about how they’d set up tables in their driveway and how they were rude. She never really gave an example of how they were rude.

Why was she being nice to me? This isn’t the first Rookie Bitch to be nice to me. CN is nice to me, too. I’m starting to think that everyone thinks I’m awesome, in so many words. And believe me, I’ve heard that plenty of times. And it makes sense. I’m the only new person they’re nice, too. JF and LU told me stories about how the Rookie Bitches are nasty to them. They told me how one of the Rookie Bitches, CH, called them “white bitches,” and how LY snatched shoes from them because they were helping his customer. LY gave up one of his customers on Friday because we both were helping her. And it wasn’t just any ol’ shoe. It was a Coach shoe he gave up. NO ONE GIVES UP COACH SHOES.

Speaking of Coach shoes, I sold a $371 Coach shoe on Friday. Woot woot. This brings me to Saturday aka Bloody Saturday as I like to call it. Before I explain, I like to let you all know that I am pretty toasty. Call me alcoholic, I don’t care.

Anywho, Saturday was definitely way more blog-worthy than Friday. First, I didn’t really have bad customers. All I really had a problem with was like customers that were tremendously indecisive and customers that wanted to get in my pants.

Then one problem I had was with MC. MC is a terrible person. I mean, terrible. He has the most fucked up logic outta everyone. His backwards logic is as follows: if a customer has another person who helps them, he asks who helped them first—regardless of who brought out the selling shoe. Why is this a faulty logic? Because in every instance, he was the first person to help someone that another person has asked for help.

Wtf. Like I lost two sells because MC likes to take on 283743294724 customers at once while the 3 of us have 2 customers each. And then his customers give up on his slow ass. But, I really didn’t care cuz my life, unlike his, doesn’t depend on it. I am going to college. He has either never gone to college, or he fucked up somewhere in life to where he has to be a competing, incompetently social, fucked up shoe salesman at a major department store.

 

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Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Introduction

As everyone should know by now, assuming that you are my friend, I am a shoesalesman at a major department store. in the Women's Shoe Department. I work with whom I like to call, Rookie Bitches, and the New Crew. The Rookie Bitches are the one's that have been there for more than a few months. Yuh, fully aware that rookie=new; however, I've been saying it wrong for two weeks and frankly, it has a nice ring to it.

Not only do I have to deal with the Rookie Bitches and their hiding shoes, being bitchy, and down right rude, I have to deal with messy, bitchy, time-wasting customers. And let me say this now, women are messier than guys. I don't care what you say, what your mom says, or what God says cuz they obviously don't work in the shoe department at a major department store. So they can stfu.

Before I get to a few disaster stories–just so we're all on the same page–I must further explain the Rookie Bitches and their ridiculous antics. I won't use names, just initials just in case they know how to read and find time out of their miserable lives to search the web for mean things people have to say about them (you can never be too safe).

MK- The Queenbee. She's tall, she's pretty, and she's ridiculous. She constantly reminds me to pick up my drops (shoes that I brought out for customers and didn't want) like I was born yesterday. She also will not hesitate to think she's the manager...which she's not...she must not have gotten the memo.

CN- The Nice Bitch. She's super nice, unless you understand sarcasm and read between the lines.

MC- The Male Version of MK. I seriously think they're fucking.

RH- The One No One Cares About. Meh.

DM- The Only Cool One. She's apart of the Rookie Bitches by default. She's actually amazing.

LY- The Loser.

NY- The Old Mega Bitch. She's wrinkly. She's got bitch lines all over her face.

GL- The Foreigner. I don't know where she's from, but hopefully she goes back. She's totally a bitch with an accent who may or may not be the first person to get smacked.

...and there's two more, but I don't remember them.

And finally, the New Crew.

HM- The Sweet Aunt. She would be the best Aunt ever. I love her.

JF- The Purchase Idiot. Ugh. She's so stupid. She's been working there longer than I have and I can do so much more than her. Btw, she pressed purchase.

LU- The Perky One. She's so perky and she's gonna break her hand waving to me. She gets extra excited.

The Women's Shoe Department has four stock rooms: Heels, Boots, Hosiery, and Juniors. Despite common sense, the shoes are not separated by designer, but by color and height of the heel. I will never understand the difference between mid-low and mid; nor high and very high. Honestly, they all look the same. On the bottom of the shoe, it will tell you which isle the shoe is in...if you're lucky. And just because it tells you were it's at, doesn't mean it will be there. So basically, you're fucked.

Ok, we're all on the same page. Instead of telling you past stories, I'll just update after work. The stories never end.