"Excuse YOU, Asshole, Don't Fucking Walk Away From Those Clothes!" Or, How Monday OFFICIALLY Became Misanthropy Day

So. I worked 14 hours today.

That's right, folks, count them. Fourteen.

This was not all at one job, though, because today was my first day of substituting for at my high school. That was definitely the highlight of the day. I was subbing for a teacher who teaches both freshman Spanish and junior high Civics. First period was the Spanish class. I had to go over homework and give them a quiz. This one girl gave me shit after I called role and introduced myself.

"Hi. I'm Bridget. I used to go here. Now I'm in college."
"Ohh, that's SOOOOO interesting," said the girl loudly.

I was slightly taken aback, because that is so unlike the students at our high school. Even if people hate a sub, they aren't genereally rude or sarcastic to their face. But then I thought smugly, "You know what? My life is about sixty times better than yours because I am not a high school freshman, so I won't even dignify that with a response." The rest of the class was uneventful.

I went to Monday Morning Meeting for shits and giggles--for those of you who don't know what this, it's the weekly assembly in which announcements are... announced. I sat with my senior buddies; it's kind of funny, actually, that I'm subbing at a high school in which there are students that I actually attended high school with. Oh well. It was mildly entertaining, in a nostalgic sense. I guess that's why I went.

Then I had the junior high classes to sub. They just had to do research in the computer lab, so that wasn't all that interesting. I checked out my favorite book of the library's collection. It's called "What If the Moon Didn't Exist?" and is a book full of theories of what the earth would be like in given situations, such as if the moon didn't exist, if the earth were bigger, if it were tilted on its axis like Uranus, etc. I am thoroughly enjoying it, once again.

Dork? Check.

The best part about subbing for the junior high was when I got to feel like a real teacher. A couple of the kids needed help on their research; I taught them both how to do more effective searches on the internet, as well as helping them figure out what their topics really meant (Voter IDs and the Midwifery Act, both current things going on in the Georgia legislature). I also ended up explaining the Green Party from a Democrat's point of view, and why Nader sucked.

I felt really good doing it. This bodes well for future planned professorship.

Anyway, none of this relates to why Monday is OFFICIALLY Misanthropy Day.

If I didn't manage to explain it before, Monday is Half Price Day. This means that people actually go INSANE. Any form of etiquette or kindness is obliterated by the GREED.

Today was nuts. I showed up at 2:50, and got straight to work putting clothes back on hangers, cleaning up after people, and doing returns from the dressing room. It only took fifteen minutes for a ten-foot-long rack to FILL UP full of clothes. This was not enough time to have finished putting away the clothes from the last ten foot rack, especially as I was the only goddamned person on the floor (everyone else was cashiering).

I don't know if I've explained how big this store is. It used to be a grocery store.

So anyway... it's all crazy and bad and stuff, and this little girl lost her sweatshirt. Losing your sweatshirt at this thrift store is a Very Bad Idea, as it is next to impossible to find. However, another of my coworkers spotted something blue in a woman's cart who was checking out, and it turned out the girl had put her sweatshirt in that woman's cart by mistake. Aww for mistakes of children.

However, there is no aww for stupid children pushing each other up and down aisles in a wheelchair, and tugging on clothes to make them fall off the hangers that I JUST PUT THEM BACK ON, or hiding in the clothing racks. I yelled at a kid, then felt sort of bad about it. I don't like yelling at kids.

Let's see... then there were the people who kept messing up everything I fixed TEN SECONDS after I fixed it... the women who refuse to control their children... the fact that the store is in shambles by the end, and therefore takes an hour and a half to only minimally clean up. I want to do a photo post, next Monday, just to show you all how horrible this all is. Also, the people who ask you stupid shit like "EXCUSE ME THERE BUT WHERE ARE THE SKIRTS!?!!" when you are standing right in front of them... the women who come up to you desperate for the bathroom and shout "MA'AM WHERE ARE YOUR BATHROOMS?!" and jiggle in your face, and when you tell them, they just walk away calmly and keep looking at clothes. I seriously don't get that.

Also... when you are going through clothing on a rack... how much force do you really need? Why are you using enough force to cause EVERY DAMN PAIR OF PANTS to fall off its hanger, at least by one side so it lists crazily to the side on the rack? And why can't you fix it? It doesn't take long, when it's just a few, but when I have to fix almost every pair of pants, it takes FOREVER when I just want to go home.

Is it just that people feel sneaky because they don't have to fix it themselves? "Ooh, it's like having a servant! Let's see how big a mess I can make!!"

Oh, and Mystery Carts piss me off too. People will literally fill their carts and then leave them in weird places in the store. What the hell, folks? This is not an isolated occurance, either. There are at least ten every Monday. Is it so hard to even put your clothing on the returns rack? Why are you getting so many clothes that you A) can't try all of them on or B) can't even begin to afford them?

However, the worst thing today, the one that made me hate everyone and everything... was one person. Tiffany.

Now, you will rarely hear me make fun of people's weight. I don't really take issue with what people weigh, as long as they are happy about it.

But Tiffany is a fatass cowcunt. With her name tattooed on her arm.

WHO THE FUCK TATTOOS THEIR NAME ON THEIR ARM?!! Are you going to forget it?? Want other people to remember the next morning when they wake up next to you? Not that Tiffany Fatass Cowcunt will ever experience that.

She DOESN'T WORK. It's not fair. Mondays are AWFUL, but if she's let out on the floor, she'll follow around other people and talk to them. Not people like me, but people like Ashley or whatever that woman's name is. The rest of us are all putting stuff away, furiously trying to get out of the damn store already, as it's an hour after closing, but no. She just wanders around like the cowcunt she is. She even had the gall to suggest, "You might want to clean from the middle and let Neela clean that area herself."

I sneered at her.

I'm sorry, Cowcunt, but you don't get to tell me where to clean up when YOU DON'T DO A GODDAMNED THING.

Also, Neela and I had a system going, and we were finishing really fast. We did about three times the area and number of clothes that Tiffany did in that time period. BOTH of us did.

And when I sweetly told her, "There's still a lot to do over there, in the men's pants section," she said "I know." Then she walked in the opposite direction to where Ashley (since I can't remember if that's actually her name or not) was cleaning, and started cackling about an ugly shirt.

NONONO.

Then she put her coat on and LEFT. When there was still stuff to do!

I swear, here and now:

Tiffany Fatass Cowcunt will find things unpleasant wherever she has to go that I have already been. I don't know how I will achieve this, but she has made my eternal shit list.

This is not easy to do. I'm generally pretty forgiving. But not of her. Oh, no. Never.

It's over, bitch. You shouldn't make me mad, because I've already told both the managers that you suck. Oh, I'm not above being a tattletale, if it makes my day shorter.

Bring it! You can't move fast enough to catch me, anyway.