Exciting news for all to munch on...I executed the timeless maneuver known as the "job walk-out". Yes, you read right. After my previous bitching about how much my job sucks, why me, blah blah blah, I went on into work today as planned. Things went short, but so sweet.
I was wearing a white Express shirt with a vintage looking graphic featuring something like an interstate sign shield symbol with stars on it; my jeans were Express jeans, and on my feet just boring Converse All-Stars (I have a pet peeve with the term "Chucks". I'm fucking weird). I had previously been told that with a collared shirt I must wear either a tee over or underneath it. Not very sensible, given the 100+ degree weather we've been averaging lately, plus I see no sense in dirtying up two shirts in such a stupid trendy way. Error in judgement: fashion can be extremely stupid and, indeed, trendy.
So to avoid this bullshit, I wear the simple white graphic tee. I walk in, completely drained of any enthusiasm I'd previously experienced toward this job. The first thing the manager in the back says to me is, "Do you have another shirt to wear with that?"
"No..."
"You need another shirt to wear with that. Graphic tees have to be layered, remember? Do you live far from here?"
"About fifteen minutes..."
"You wanna run home and get another shirt?"
"Uh...sure..."
"Or you could buy a shirt here, but I don't want to force you to buy a shirt, so if you want to run home just tell Macy."
"Okay."
"Remember graphic tees blah blah blah" *fades out as I walk away*
So I walk out to the floor, tell the other manager that I'll be back, need to go home and get a shirt, and she smiles and says okay.
From there, I went over to Laura's and then proceeded to Six Flags for the rest of the fucking day. I'm not going back. My job there is done. They won't miss me; I've worked a total of three hours. They need to cut hours anyway, as demonstrated on my first day of work when I was sent home before I could even complete my first shift. Fuck that shit. I'm finding a new job. Time to plant my tomato seeds and grow some tomatos to sell.
Or I could become a porn director...Any volunteers?
Fin.
P.S. Liv, you are such a sweet heart. I've always got something to look forward to when I get online.
I was wearing a white Express shirt with a vintage looking graphic featuring something like an interstate sign shield symbol with stars on it; my jeans were Express jeans, and on my feet just boring Converse All-Stars (I have a pet peeve with the term "Chucks". I'm fucking weird). I had previously been told that with a collared shirt I must wear either a tee over or underneath it. Not very sensible, given the 100+ degree weather we've been averaging lately, plus I see no sense in dirtying up two shirts in such a stupid trendy way. Error in judgement: fashion can be extremely stupid and, indeed, trendy.
So to avoid this bullshit, I wear the simple white graphic tee. I walk in, completely drained of any enthusiasm I'd previously experienced toward this job. The first thing the manager in the back says to me is, "Do you have another shirt to wear with that?"
"No..."
"You need another shirt to wear with that. Graphic tees have to be layered, remember? Do you live far from here?"
"About fifteen minutes..."
"You wanna run home and get another shirt?"
"Uh...sure..."
"Or you could buy a shirt here, but I don't want to force you to buy a shirt, so if you want to run home just tell Macy."
"Okay."
"Remember graphic tees blah blah blah" *fades out as I walk away*
So I walk out to the floor, tell the other manager that I'll be back, need to go home and get a shirt, and she smiles and says okay.
From there, I went over to Laura's and then proceeded to Six Flags for the rest of the fucking day. I'm not going back. My job there is done. They won't miss me; I've worked a total of three hours. They need to cut hours anyway, as demonstrated on my first day of work when I was sent home before I could even complete my first shift. Fuck that shit. I'm finding a new job. Time to plant my tomato seeds and grow some tomatos to sell.
Or I could become a porn director...Any volunteers?
Fin.
P.S. Liv, you are such a sweet heart. I've always got something to look forward to when I get online.
lets create a money maker machine...or something... lets win the lottery...haha
some kind of works are just stupid.. i know cos ive been in some of them...