Still Here

So much to remember since the last time I put anything on this blog thing. Okay, still working at Target. I hit my 3 year mark even tough every year I said: "This will be my last Christmas here." They actually let you get a small gift-thing once you hit 3 years. Everything had a Target logo on it so I declined. Why do I want Target to enter into my world outside the walls of Mordor? There are people who seem to like working there. The Orks and trolls; and speaking of which. The troll Chinese supervisor guy I had, actually got fired for being an Asshole. I'm not kidding. I'm sure it was because he was inefficient or some shit like that but either way, I actually give the upper management mad props for spreading the love evenly. Then there was the Gollum-like Japanese, girl supervisor. She actually transfered to the back of the store. unsure if that was because she wasn't cutting it or if she said, if I help one more customer, I'm going to put foot to ass so fast, It'll take 3 proctologist to remove it. So they bought in this "new" guy supervisor who met with all of the cashiers and was like "I want to make this a fun place to work." and " I don't want people all stressed here I want to be open to talk to" and blah blah blah blah I'm running out of italics. If I had a watch on my wrist, I would have had something to look at as I counted down the seconds of how long his attitude would change to the usual Supervisor bullshit or as I like to call it STD or "Something To Do." style. Meaning, their entire job is for you to look busy, not be busy with actual work because, after Christmas, when it's dead, there is nothing to do, The store is spotless, there are no customers or even anything to put away. So we either stand around and talk or the Supervisors makes up jobs so that THEIR bosses see that THEY are actually doing something by bossing us around with the most asinine task you can think of.

"Could you wipe down the registers even tough these motherfuckers are so clean, you can check a babies CSF (Cerebral Spinal Fluid) on them?"

Yawn! I'm so board with the same old crap, The customers making the same comments. Recently, I was so used to ignoring their negative comments that I didn't even realize that they were insulted until the Black-girl supervisor told me that they had complained about me. "Wha? I thought? If I'd known they were going to complain about me, I should have put some effort into it. The good news is, it was two old ladies, so they'll be dead soon enough.

Harsh!

Okay, fine. They won't be dead, they'll live another 100 years, sucking the blood out of cashiers and babies, lying on the belt waiting for their CFS to be checked.

It takes so much effort to be an asshole to a cashier. Here's an idea. Either: A) Be nice; B) Shut the fuck up about how I Didn't give you 5 cents credit for your stupid shopping bags; C) Shut the fuck up about how I wouldn't change the roll of $24 paper towels to $16; D) Shut the fuck up about how Target checks everybody's driver's license when you buy booze and no, I don't know or give a fuck what they to with your information, or you can; E) shut the fuck up and get your stupid crappy landfill, plastic, Earth-killing garbage, go to your Earth-killing SUV, drive up to the hills to your house with view of God's back yard, drink your wine, yell at the illegal alien cleaning lady, take your pills. ignore your kids with names like Sky, Dakota and Maya as they play 50 hours of Wii and leave me the hell alone.

It's not my fault that you're old!

It's not my fault that you have everything and yet are still unhappy.

It's not my fault you're poor and your credit card is declined.

It's not my fault you hate men. Blacks, Gays, Democrats, Liberals or Peace.

It's not my fault you named your son Travis or Dillon, gave them a mohawk and are surprised that they act like a little monster.

It's not my fault you have no other outlet for your misery except a defenseless cashier, trying to make it to the end of their day and go to that place where you are not.

That's all, E.M.