That’s what I gave to Giant yesterday. I work tomorrow, and a few hours on Friday, and then I can hang up my red Giant shirt for good.
And exchange it for a red CompUSA shirt, because I got hired with them. I’m going to be working sales floor instead of cashiering which is a major improvement. Especially for the wrists. Plus, they were looking for a part time employee that could work a few hours per week, as opposed to the part time worker that’s quasi-full time with 30 some hours per week. Point? I got a new job, and it’s better. See ya Giant.
And all the losers that shop there, like Mr. Sanitary. I sneezed. Naturally, I used my hand/arm to block the effects and prevent my bodily substances from coating the nearby customers. It wasn’t even a mucous sneeze, just the generic ah-choo. Well, apparently this fellow didn’t want my germs getting all over his food. He rather rudely ordered that I get some hand wipes to wash my hands before I could handle his groceries (as if checking out His Highness was some sort of a privilege). I kindly told him that I didn’t have any hand wipes, and he told me I needed to find some, none too graciously. I looked at him and without another word, walked off to the bathroom. Which, by the way, happens to be at the very back of the store (unless you use the customer bathroom, and there’s probably a rule about employees not being allowed to use that one in Manager Brian’s Big Book of Inefficient and Impractical Store Rules). The “staff” bathroom is in the extreme back of the store, up a flight of stairs. Anyway I took my time getting there, took my time in the bathroom, and headed back, clean.
He was still standing there in all his pompous glory. What a dork. Y’know, just about everything we sell at Giant has some kind of packaging, except for the produce. And don’t most people wash their produce before they eat it, especially somebody as health conscious as Our Good Sir? It’s not like I was even sick or anything. Bah.
Got my fifteen minutes of fame from my fellow employees. I think a few more of my similarly-aged comrades will be quitting Giant as well. Because Giant sucks. And the only thing keeping many of them there is the lack of another job, which is what kept me there for so long. Interestingly enough, the cool older semi-manager happens to know somebody who left Giant for CompUSA three or four months ago. Same two stores as me.
w00t. Got tons of school stuff done which means not so much work for me this week. College applications shall fall before my frustrated pen. They ask for your address at least four times: “What’s your address? What’s your dad’s? What’s your mom’s? Do you live with your mom, dad, both, or other?” Somewhere in those four questions they could put a “same” check box, because after all, at least two of those addresses are going to be the same. Whatever.
Say happy birthday to Isaiah, the little boy in this picture. He’s seven today!
Oh, and Judy took her tablet back from me. Now I finally have to get off my behind and buy one of my own. But check out all her awesome digital artworks: pointgiven.
I love Rachel. We really want to see each other because it’s been quite a while. Perhaps this weekend.