youreprettywhenidrink.com Savage Tales of Wild Drunken Adventures

A Tale of Boredom-Shameless Stupidity Renewed

Things have been quiet since our triumphant return from an insane European adventure. I have dealt with halfwit customers asking me ridiculous questions about products they have literally made up as they walked towards me, I have watched children completely self-destruct when being told "no, you cannot have that Hannah Montana/Jonas Brothers schoolbag" and I have, with as much success as humanly possible, put up with the bantering mess that is my Sales Manager. Alas, the good times cannot last forever and reality ultimately reared its ugly head at me again.

As usual, I'm minding my own business, when the aisles start to shake. If I'd been holding a glass of water, it would have looked like that scene from Jurassic Park when the T-Rex approaches the stalled cars. I knew something terrible was lumbering its way towards me and there was no sense in running...I would inevitably be found. I braced myself for what I already knew would be some kind of disastrous conversation about anything and everything irrelevant. I sighed to myself and waited to be swept away by this wave of doom.
 
Although I was expecting it, I can never really be ready for that first outburst. This time, as if to spice things up a bit, she pretty much jumped out from the back aisle and shouted "ALLO ----! COMMENT CA VA?? BIEN!!!" (translation-Hello ----! How’s it going? Good?)  Jumping Jesus Christ! What do I do to deserve this? I give a quick hello and hoped to all that was sacred and just that she simply leave. This is not the case. She tells me to follow her to her desk and sits me down. I let out a quiet moan as she's isolated me from customers and other distractions...there is no escape. She starts going off about the set-up of our next promotional sale and how I should set up the store accordingly. I quietly listen as I've already done the paperwork and planning for this particular sale. I figure I'll let this beast of a woman tell me what she wants done and then ruthlessly break her with my own, superior plans.
 
Then, she drops a bomb on me, which for the first few minutes completely stunned me. All I could do was look at her with my mouth a little open and look of complete confusion on my face. This fruitloop had taken my plans, the ones I had prepared the week before, and was trying to pass it off as if she had done all the preparations. Has she gone batshit? I honestly was so taken back by this turn of events that she actually asked me if I was alright. Apparently I was visibly shaken. After a few minutes of trying to grasp what had just happened, my shock turned to rage. I snatched the papers from her and flipped through them violently, nearly ripping some of the pages. I was right, she was literally holding the exact papers I had written on, with my personal written notes, and said they belonged to her.
 
Why you greasy, thieving, scum-sucking degenerate! I stopped her in her tracks and asked if she had actually written these notes. She said yes. I asked again and again she said yes. I then grabbed a sheet of paper, wrote a sentence from the notes and placed it in front of and asked her to explain to me how we have identical hand-writing? "How can you have possibly written these? Are we two of a kind? Are we related? Is there some supernatural psychic telekenetic bond we share?" Still too fucking daft to realise that I prepped what she claimed to be hers, she continued describing what I had put together. Un-fucking-believable! What made matters worse is she kept making mistakes as she read what I had idiot-proofed the previous friday.
 
Drained from going through every human emotion in less than five-minutes, I left the office dejected. Had someone crossed me in the hall and asked me if everything was alright, I might have crumpled to the ground and openly wept at their feet. There is no hiding from this woman's outright stupidity. Never have I met someone so mentally deficient. I walked outside for a cigarette and tried to regain my composure. If there was a bar around the corner, I would have crawled into a bottle of Scotch and never come out.