It's not my Job

Continued from Planet Jerky...

Then I can fuck off from doing what can be the most hasseling part of the job and start sorting shit out in the stock rooms like I'm supposed to.

Don't get me wrong I like my job, just not alot of the customers that come through, little do they know it. And I'm not getting myself sacked beause I'm not mentioning names or anything, and also this goes for many jobs I've done in retail anyway.

Then I can shout profanity and throw empty cardboard boxes around menacingly and ruthlessly, like a motherfucker. Of course not into anything worth anything, just bins and walls mainly. But I get the job done.

And trust me I'm not some idiot when I serve on the till. Well I used to be because I wasn't fully trained and had just been thrown on after a crash course. Now it's just having to fumble through annoying price sheets and paperwork to calculate discounts and crap and trying to explain to customers what a moron they are for not reading the signs to find out what our deals are, and how, in my imagination, they really should "shut the fuck up" about their big rush they are in before I make their lateness a permanent cancellation. I mean why would I care if they are late or something? Not much I can do, It's not like I want to take my time with them. I just want their moeny in the till as soon as possible so I don't have to see their miserable faces again. Well I wish I could tell them some true shit sometimes, but I incinuate it at least. Buy it or don't, pal. If you want deals or certain items browse the store, go find, dick cheese.

Oh, and I attended the d.construct conference in Brighton on Friday, it was pretty crazy. It was all about social networking on the internet, it's new technologies, foresights, developer's plans, and stuff like that