"Everyone should smile. Life really isn’t that serious. We make it hard. The sun rises. The sun sets. We just tend to complicate the process."
Arian Foster (via awakenedvibrations)
Because even if I am the most wispy, thin-skinned petal on Earth, that doesn’t excuse the hordes of people who are full metal arseholes for no fucking reason.
I had the worst work day I’ve had in an eon today. I was so thoroughly abused by customers that I ended up in tears three times! I cried at work today. Three times! Do you want to know what made people so infuriated at little old me? The fact that they are impatient and cannot follow simple instructions in place to prevent the constant theft that occurs in supermarkets.
And today, it wasn’t even about me being sensitive. It’s about the fact that retail workers are paid to stand in silence while people scream at them about pointless bullshit that will have zero impact in the scheme of their lives. Perspective, move on!
Today I was mocked for being incapable of helping four people at once, yelled at about security measures on self serve registers (this is apparently enough reason to shop at another supermarket, and WHY don’t I do my job and open more registers? Hello, I’m a part-time worker in this place, my power is quite limited) and then once they had finished yelling at me, this dude said, "I know it’s not your fault, love, but …" to which I replied, "But you’re happy to take it out on me!" You should consider what you KNOW before you open your mouth. I can’t even list all the bullshit I put up with today, just because it’s too much effort to pause between scanning items on a register. When people are being so foul there is this strange thing that happens to me, if I cannot tell people to fuck off (which I can’t do at work, unfortunately) I just cry. Cannot hold it in. All the snappy comebacks just start falling out of my eyes. And I’m standing there trying to make it clear, as the tears refuse to quit, I AM NOT SAD, I AM JUST SO ANGRY.
The cherry on top, however, was a man who was already angry and started listing off all these problems he had with this new system, and I just smiled and said, "Thank you," and it went like this:
Man: "Sarcasm isn’t your strong point."
Me, under my breath: "Well, politeness isn’t yours."
Man: "EXCUSE ME?"
Me: "Don’t worry."
Man: "YOU SAID SOMETHING."
Me, turning to look him straight in the eyes: "Politeness OBVIOUSLY is not yours."
Man,turning fast to continue his shopping.
FUCK YOU GUY, I AM AMAZING AT SARCASM, YOU ARE AN ARSEHOLE FOR SUGGESTING OTHERWISE!
I’m just so fucking tired of arseholes, I’m sick of them. Why do I feel like I’m the only fucker in the world who thinks we should treat people how we want to be treated? It’s so straight forward. I’m obviously going to be fine, I’ll work the next three days with similar treatment and will gain nothing but more character to add onto my neverending pile of brilliant fucking character. And I’m glad that I cry when I’m angry, because I am not repressed and it freaks people the fuck out. Maybe I’ll just sit on the ground and start howling. That’ll be super fun. As long as rage-crying doesn’t take up eight minutes of my 30 minute lunch break each day, I’ll be good.
And I know that ranting about all this is not productive but it is carved into my heart that we should all try and be as nice as possible as often as possible. That’s all, bon voyage, fuck off.
Happy Friday, everyone! I hope you have a great weekend and are kind to all the retail workers you encounter.
|Rhiannon:||Look at the moon. So perfect, so crisp.|
|Me:||Yes, like a slice of cantaloupe.|
|Rhiannon:||Like a perfectly rendered house.|
The Wednesday That Was: I wore a sequin speckled jumper and a crystal encrusted space cadet to add a little more SciFi to my everyday. I bought myself treats because retail therapy is a real and horrible but totally great thing. I noticed the roses I picked last week were well and truly dead, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy a second life in my scattering of their remains on my lawn.
Not pictured: Evening coffee with friends. Emotional unloading with my sister about sadness and related guilt and the allocation and ownership of those things. I dislike slumps but I love my dear Nonnie.
Right now: It’s after 1am and I am still making a final draft of a short story final … er. Old habits are eternal.