I’ve been battling allergies lately. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any Kleenex at work so being the classy and resourceful bitch that I am I stooped as low as keeping a roll of angel soft toilet paper nearby. I was sick. I was tired. I was pissed I still had 6 hours left at work. Therefore, I did not give a fuck.
One of my jobs is a receptionist at a Marina. My office is connected to the Ship’s store where we sell boat parts as well as a few drinks and snacks for people staying on their boats over night. Much of the time, I am left alone to run the office as well as the store. A guy comes in and gets an ice cream sandwich. He asks for a spoon. Bitch, we are not a fucking Ice Cream Parlor and we’re not spoon suppliers. I tell him I think Ice Cream sandwiches are meant to be eaten with his hands. He says “I ain’t got no teeth.” Ugh. Gag me with a spoon.
If I’m alone in the office and have to relieve myself, I have to lock the front door and walk to the rest rooms. Usually, I try to wait for an associate to come in so I don’t have to do that. Apparently, it’s not good for business to lock the front door during open hours. I think it would be worse for business if I pissed my pants while talking to a tenant. After waiting an hour, I walk out and lock the door, only to be sideswiped by the crypt keeper on a power chair. Seriously? Just because you are old as shit doesn’t mean you can run me over like I don’t matter. Hopefully you don’t scooter your ass right off the dock because I hear diapers are only buoyant until they eventually become waterlogged.
*Ring Ring* “Do you have shark meat there?” “Um, no.” “Do you have alligator meat?” WTF? You’re calling a Marina, not a fucking slaughterhouse.
My job would be great if I didn’t deal with such random weirdo’s on a daily basis. I feel like it is only work because of the exponential amount of effort I spend on resisting the urge to dick slap people.
One of my favorite regulars walks in and asks “What’s the toilet paper for?”
For all the shit I put up with, of course.