hewasalittledognamedsnuggles: everyonedie: God I love people who impatiently demand their receipt when they’re TWO DIGITS INTO THEIR PIN CODE. this blog needs an avatar pic Is this too small?
God I love people who impatiently demand their receipt when they’re TWO DIGITS INTO THEIR PIN CODE.
Trying to resist the urge to boredom-eat my whole paycheck. Been a while since I did a graveyard shift. Nothing in here is filing, so I can just keep going until there’s nothing left of my overtime pay but bitter tears of disappointment and regret.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t get free coffee here, because then I wouldn’t be tempted to drink it. It tastes more like the paper cup than like coffee, it’s just terrible.
Refusing to go to bed does not make tomorrow not happen, I need to learn this. I wish we sold some version of peach tea at the store that didn’t taste like apple-flavored corn syrup. I also wish the doorbell motion sensor was a death ray instead of a doorbell.
Two extremely attractive early 20s
who haven’t seen each other since they used to play together when they were 6 just recognized each other in the store and excitedly exchanged phone numbers. Fufufufufufufufufufufufu…
I need out
I have to get a new job. I can’t deal with this one anymore. I’m on the bus right now on my way there, and all I want to do is blow the bus up and escape in the confusion. I’ll try applying at comic book shops. I know the clientele is still going to be comprised largely of hygienically challenged mouthbreathers, but I’m hoping my love of comics will at least partially...
I was scheduled trip clock in an hour later than usual. Which was awesome until I got down to the last hour of my shift and noticed I was scheduled to clock OUT an hour later too.
Earthan Black (@EarthanBlack) has shared a Tweet with you: “skitchhead: 18-pack of Pabst, box of Hot Pockets, a 7-up, and the most recent issue of High Times; very classy, white boy” —http://twitter.com/skitchhead/status/136744453145763840
Earthan Black (@EarthanBlack) has shared a Tweet with you: “If you’re referring to your children as your “four screaming kids,” maybe you should have fucking stopped at one” —http://twitter.com/EarthanBlack/status/136701266985353216
Coworker: Apparently at work the other day, a cop came in, then promptly had to leave because she got a 911 dispatch from a Tri-Met driver with two people having sex in the back of his bus who refused to knock it off when he told them to. Ladies and gentlemen, that was a single sentence.
Me: That wow.
oculitopandora: hotsendotsen: Seriously, fuck anybody that wants to come in to a convenience store at 8 in the morning, pay for two dollars of shit with a hundred, and then get all salty when their change takes a while. oh, youre going to pay for your tic tacs and big hunk bar with your visa? and get pissy with me when i make you sign a receipt for 2.40 interaction? you wouldnt mind...
hotsendotsen: Seriously, fuck anybody that wants to come in to a convenience store at 8 in the morning, pay for two dollars of shit with a hundred, and then get all salty when their change takes a while. Word.
A tiny girl just told me which of the items she and her brother put on the counter, should go in the bag, one by one. It was all of them. SO CUTE. This message brought to you by the Coalition For the Future of America. Children, is what I’m trying to say.
I’m back here a fucking gain. God I hate this place. It feels good to be mad. But I still hope it burns down. Hey that was almost haiku. Unintentional.
This just in. Shut the fuck up.
Drunk. Stupid. Twat. I’m glad your friend’s mother is dying. Anyone someone like you grieves for is undoubtedly a wretched asshole as well. Learn to tell the difference between professionalism and rudeness. For that matter, learn to tell the difference between alcohol and love. P.S. You’re hideous so you might want to work on your personality. ProTip: Randomly combative...
abuse: v. 1. cruel and violent treatment of a person or animal. 2. insulting and offensive language. child: n. 1. a young human being below the age of full physical development or below the legal age of majority. A person between birth and full growth. future: n. 1. the time or a period of time following the moment of speaking or writing; time regarded as still to come. 2. used to refer to what...
Oh you need the receipt? Well I need you to explode, so where does that put us?
COULD YOU “PEOPLE” KINDLY REFRAIN FROM ABUSING YOUR FUCKING CHILDREN IN THE goddamn STORE
I don’t know how much more annoying I can make the process of buying cigarettes, but keep the attitude coming and we’ll both find out.
What exactly the fuck makes you think it’s acceptable to treat an eleven year old with less respect and dignity than you’d afford an adult total stranger? JUST DIE. Alcohol poisoning. Sleeping pills. I don’t care, just hurry.
Oh you’re a regular customer? You buy cigarettes all the time? Too bad you look exactly like every other white trash bitch in her late 20s. Just pull your ID out of your god damned purse so we can be rid of each other already.
It seriously makes me suicidal.
Get off work at 7:10 AM. Bus comes at ~7:45 AM. Get home around 8:50-9:00 AM. It’s now nine in the fucking morning. The day has well and truly begun. Options: Sleep and wake up at about 4:00 PM, -or- stay up all day and crash in the early evening. Factor: My next shift starts tomorrow at 2:00 PM because my schedule switches from graveyard shift to swing shift halfway through the week....
I have a dream.
A dream that I work in a convenience store. Oh wait that’s a nightmare oh wait its just true. Oh yeah, some jackoff came in and bought three grape flavored cigarillos. He came back in with one of them opened, wanting to exchange all three for another flavor, because the one he’d opened was stale. Well, that’s impossible, because 1. It’s a tobacco product and we don’t...
Okay, listen. Tranny. I don’t give a shit what gender your ID says your are. Just go out to your car and get it. I don’t give a shit what gender you think you are, or want to be. I give a shit about not getting fired, which includes selling you cigarettes, which includes getting proof of your age. You can bitch all you want ‘til you turn blue in the face, asphyxiate and die, that...
I work in a convenience store.
I’m going to try not to mention which one specifically, because I probably signed something that said I wouldn’t when they hired me. But I might slip and say the name because it carries so much filth and venom in its very utterance. It’s like a dirty word, or a disparaging name. Anyway this is my self-imposed therapy because I working in a fucking convenience store. I’ll...