Saturday

Numerous customers Saturday made me fear for the future of the human race.

Having been asked to unlock various cases all day long, I ran into a woman requesting horse dewormer.  I said, sure, I'd unlock it, and that I would be right back with the keys. When I returned with the keys, a minute later, she had vanished.  I then spent the next five minutes searching for her and was about to give up and go back to pushing freight when she turned up. I figured she must not want dewomer too badly if she couldn't hover around the general area for a moment.

Fielding several complaints about the lack of fire starters, stove pipe, and selection of various styles of heaters due to the cold, DESPITE it being obvious that weed killers, bug killers, dirt, and push mowers had been moved into the seasonal area, I lost patience after the 20th person whined that it was only February and kind of snapped back that  bikinis are hitting the stores now, too.  It's the way retail has always worked. It's the same pattern every year. There are two distinct seasons in retail: Summer and Christmas and I, for one, am relieved to see the summer things after the horrible season of stupid toys and stupid brats looking at stupid toys.

I did find some enjoyment in the lack of available carts for customer use since they were mostly piled in freight.  Less of carts were left in the parking lot and customers actually had to go OUTSIDE and retrieve carts if they wanted a cart at certain periods during the day.

And then, there are the idiots who block the main, wide aisle by the magazine rack, just reading and conversing with pals no matter who wants down the aisle. Oh, someone wants a load out of 15 bags of horse feed? Nah, whatever, we'll just stand here and talk until you threaten to run us down with a cart.

Come to discover while asking for zip codes that loads of these idiots were from the Howell area. Now, why the hell were they at our store?  Go back to Howell and play your douche bag mind games there.

I hate customers. I barely even look at them any more and have trouble remembering who I've helped, and who needs help.  They are nameless, faceless hoards of whining, idiotic, helpless drones who think that just because they shop at the store that I am their slave. On days, when I cannot help myself, I tell them things to their faces while wearing a smile and they don't even know that I am insulting them.  How can they be that dumb?

I need a new job. Badly. Before I mow someone down intentionally with a feed cart, shopping cart, or simply knee them in the balls.