I wanna make good on my promise (the one where I promise to blog early and often [is that a saying? I think it may be a saying). So, I'm about to overcompensate by blogging twice in one day (my unit for measuring the day is one "awake cycle." So even if this blog is posted after midnight, it is still the same day for me because I have yet to fall asleep, breaking the "awake cycle." Of course, according to my unit of measurement, a nap can create two days in a 24 hour period. But, hey, it's my system and I'm sticking to it). So, before I drift off to sleep after my nightly routine of a STAR TREK night cap I'll squeeze one off (a blog! You are so gross).The beauty of my previous blog, is that I set the bar so fucking low. I both promised mediocrity and I delivered mediocrity in one foul swoop. So now I can literally blog about anything I want.
I can blog about my recent obsession with STAR TREK: The Original Series. I can blog about working as a cashier, serving the head of production at Universal Pictures twenty minutes after we closed last night because she was so entitled (oh yeah, I went there. Nothing is off limits on my blog, bitches!). I can blog about all the reasons AVATAR is a train wreck. I can blog about how I feel the EXTRAORDINARY MEASURES's poster is an incredible waste of Harrison Ford (I mean, you have Ford and Brendan Fraiser on the same poster and they'e... gasp... walking down a hallway with resolve? Resolve, I tell you! That's Indiana Jones and Indy Jones light [a la the MUMMY franchise] on the same poster and they're walking down a hallway! Come on!). I can blog about how my definition of a distance has completely transformed sense moving from Colorado to LA. And, in fact, these all may be blogs in the future. Surprise!
With Resolve!So tonight, it took a full hour to close at B&N (Barnes and Noble, which is where I work, silly) because we were so busy the store got trashed by customers, and all those books don't organize themselves (my fellow employees do it as I pretend to help... I kid, I kid... maybe).
So, at 11pm, a full hour after we closed, one of the managers was letting the last of us employees out of the building. There was this crack head of a mother (seriously, she seemed crazy before she said anything) standing right outside the door. She knew we were closed. But she was standing there.
The manager was like, "We're closed, bitch" (okay, I may be embellishing the story just a bit to keep myself interested long enough to finish this blog so I make good on my promise and never have to blog again).
But she was like, "I just need Diary of a Wimpy Kid!"
For those of you who don't know, Diary of a Wimpy Kid is a fairly popular book series for kids. At B&N, we have two tables devoted to the fucking series, an honor reserved for the likes Twilight. So it's a big fucking deal. What's it about? Hell if I know. I only work at B&N, I don't know shit about books. Well, this blog is becoming "Diary of a Wimpy Twenty Something", so if I had to guess, the book is a lot like this blog. A lot of cussing, whining, obsessing over movies, pretending to be clever, and suicide and dick jokes. Kids love that shit. There's a movie being made right now (which reminds me of a [not so] quick tangent of a story. I read and often post my opinion to a movie site called joblo.com [which I was a finalist for getting a job at this summer, but that's another story/blog for anther time/blog posting]. In the announcement where the actor who was going to play the Wimpy Kid was announced, the writer made some comment about how it was a horrible miscasting as a joke. Immediately, some jerkoff schmo [poster's are called schmos on the site] defends the kid, saying how great an actor he is and insisting his credits should not be held against him. This freaks me and some other schmo's out, cause why does this guy care so much unless he is the actor, or the kid's mom? Anyway, that can all be viewed here if interested. I remembered the story with great fondness, but going back and reading it again I was kind of let down to tell you the truth...).
Jesus Christ that was a tangent. Sorry.
Anyway, Wimpy Kid = popular shit.
So, this woman was there, an hour after closing, and was like "Just sell me one copy of Diary of a Wimpy Kid."
And the manager, Carlos, was like "Bitch, please. We're closed, bitch. Go home!"
"Just one copy, please. Just get me one."
"We're closed. All the registers are empty. There's nothing I can do for a whore like you."
"Please, I gots to have Wimpy Kid, I gots too. Just get me my fix."
"There's nothing I can do."
"Please! There must be a reason I must have this book at this moment. I know Christmas is still two full days away (though maybe I don't because I am stupid enough to think the store will open an hour after it has closed, just for me) but I must have the book now. My son will most likely beat me or something if I don't get it now. Or, maybe Wimpy Kid is printed on Crack Cocaine, because otherwise, why the fuck would I need it now? It could be that I am just too fucking lazy to return to the store tomorrow, or, go to any store closer to me, because this is such a popular title, even Target should have it."
And in writing this, I stumbled onto the reason why I wrote this blog. It wasn't just because I found it fascinating (not so much so that I uttered "Fascinating" aloud like Spock [I told you I'm obsessed with TREK]) that she would need to have this book tonight when it's not even Christmas Eve. It wasn't that she honestly looked like a crack head and acted like she was after her next fix.
The message of this blog is "how can people be so fucking entitled?" (And no, I'm not sure if I'm using that word correctly). Just like the Head of Universal who had me serving her needs twenty minutes after we were closed (I get it. I work in customer service. But there's a big difference between getting served by a retail employee and insisting on thirty minutes worth of special service because you feel like you're important). Just like two people I witnessed this last week who leisurely crossed the street at a walking pace, not at a cross walk, causing the cars to slow down FOR THEM (And I wasn't even driving. I was walking too. Yet I was still pissed off how selfish these people where that they though traffic had to slow down for them). How can people be so fucking inconsiderate? How can they feel like they are more important than the people they are inconveniencing?
People like this disgust me. Sure, I jay walk all the time, but I run across the street if cars are coming, to get the fuck out of their way. I don't walk slowly across the street, disrupting others' days because I'm too lazy to pick up the pace. Sure, I buy shit in a retail setting all the time, and I may ask help in finding an item (it doesn't bother me at all when people do this, in fact, I enjoy helping people find books), but I don't insist on special services and take up thirty minutes of a person's time after the store has closed like the head of Universal. And I'm pretty sure I've never asked a store to open again for me after they've closed. Which means I've never gotten pissed off when they didn't open just for me (that was probably the best part. After we would not open for this woman, she acted like we were the one's out of line).
So, fuck self-entitled bitches (I am using bitches to apply to males and females). No one pisses me off quite like them. Which is the main reason I can't stand to be an intern or even work as an assistant in the land of self-entitled bitches, Hollywood (but that's another blog for another time).
There. I blogged. Twice in one awake cycle. Promise delivered upon (there will hopefully be more to follow, hopefully one tomorrow even). It may be mediocre shit, it may just be me whining, but, hey, that was part of the promise as well.
Be seeing you.
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