iggy

Some more pictures from the shoots this weekend. I think I look rather hot.

I am such a ham.

My internet has been unruly today. It's been coming and going as it pleases and it vexes me. I am an internet addict and I need my fix when I need my fix dammit!!

Occasionally I feel like a tool. You see, I am a commando for the consumerist machine. I am a secret shopper. The past few days I have had secret shops to do. The secret shop gig isn't a bad one at all. I get paid between $10-20 to go into a store and interact with their associates. Sometimes I have to talk about certain products or buy something to make sure that the cashier offers me the company credit card or whatever else they're trying to pitch. When I worked retail the phrase "we got the results from our last secret shop" was like telling me that my puppy just died or that my home was picked up by a tornado and dropped off on the top of the empire state building. I would feel the color drain from my face and my heart would would start palpitating. Whatever store I was working in almost always failed because it seemed that the secret shops would always take place on the worst possible days. Days when half the staff would mysteriously contract the plague and shoppers seemed to multiply like cockroaches. Step on one and ten more would come out of the wood works.

So I feel like a tool. I am what I once despised. On the other hand I kind of like being a secret shopper. When I go into a store one of two things usually happens a) I am completely ignored or b) they follow me around because they think that I am going to steal something. I guess being a secret shopper is my little way of getting back at the people who mistake me for some sort of teenage miscreant.

Oh well, at least the money here and there comes in handy.

God, I wish someone would just pay me for being awesome. I'm totally worth it.