Fired up, then just plain fired… (Part 1)

You know how people come home after a hard 8 – 12 hour shift and complain, “I’ve just had the worst day ever?”

Well the events of my day can shit all over anyone who has EVER said that so SCREW ALL YOU MOANING BASTARDS!

Righty then, today started like a normal day. A normal day being a shit day as I HATE MY JOB, so lets start again… Today was a standard shitty day. I got up, showered, ate, walked to work, started work, everything thing seemed so normal (or rather mundane). Oh how wrong I was.

I must have done something to piss off God, it is truly the only thing I can think of to justify the events I’m about to explain.


10:00 – 11:00

I started at 10 and had a complaint made about me by 11, one hour! That’s a personal best.

A chubby customer asked for a size 7 shoe, I got it and no matter how hard she tried to squeeze it on to her little fat foot, it wasn’t happening. She said, “I take it you guys work a size or two down?” I was like, “No Madam, it’s probably just your feet.” She stared at me, “What do you mean, my feet?”

Now I didn’t say ‘fat’ but what I did say apparently wasn’t polite enough. I replied with, “Well, they're a tad porky.”


11:00 – 12:00

I wonder how many people actually like their job?

I know I don’t. I wonder what it is that makes people actually WANT to wake up and leave. It isn’t boredom, hypocrisy or unpaid breaks otherwise I’d be joining the minority bright and early with a smile spread across my face.

After the incident with ‘Big Foot’ I was put onto ‘standards’ for an hour. This is where you walk around making stock look presentable and simultaneously wishing you could kill yourself...

OOpus