Oh, and Ian McKellen has to produce. That’s going in my contract.

After reading Tuesday’s installment of the polish remover saga, my friend Mike was like, “You know, what you should do is…”

So I did.

Polish Remover

I had to hide the bottle immediately after snapping the picture so that my customers wouldn’t see it and think it was economy-sized and go all Tex Avery on me, but I legitimately can’t stop giggling. 

It also occurs to me that working in niche retail is a lot like being in a British sitcom, in that the same shit happens over and over but never stops being funny. If he’s up for it, I’d like to formally request that David Mitchell play me in the inevitable series.

Gluten Fucking Free

If you gathered a group of my friends together and asked them to list my one defining personality trait, they’d all look at each other, nod their heads in unspoken agreement and say, “Thomas curses a lot.” And it’s true. I love to curse. Cursing is awesome. I collect curses the way small children collect butterflies: exuberantly, yet with reverence (my all-time favorite coming from my friend Thalia, who once screamed “FUCKING OUT CHRIST” during a truly epic moment of public angst).

Curse words are the linguistic equivalents of Swiss Army knives. Since I’ve already said it twice in this post, let’s take the word “fuck” as an example. Fuck is a noun, a verb, an adjective, and even an adverb if you try hard enough (#fucktastically). One can use it to convey anger (“Fuck you, Clarence!”), joy (“Fuck yeah, soup!”), or disillusionment (“Fuck it. Just… fuck.”). Cursing makes everything better, and there is no conversation in the world that can’t benefit from the extra emphasis it provides. (“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” “Fuck yes I do.”)

All that shit said, there are a couple of invectives I never use. These are words with only one meaning, that can only be applied to people of color, and only offensively. You can’t slap “-ing” to the end of a racial slur and use it to describe how much you love breakfast cereal, y’know? You can’t replace the “fucking” in “I am so fucking excited right now” with an expression of xenophobia and expect your glee to be infectious.

Continue reading “Gluten Fucking Free”

My Flair Is Flairier Than His Flair Will Ever Be

Customer: “I love all the pins on your vest!”

Me: “Thanks!”

Customer: “I’m a manager at Wal-Mart, and I have pins all over my vest too.”

[Inner Me: Fuck you, Office Space.]

Me: “Well… neat!”

[then, later]

Same Customer: “$99 for this harness, huh?”

Me: “Actually, I just found a promo code in the system for 15% off, so that would make the total price $92 with tax.”

Customer: “Hmm. I’ll give you $80.”

And with that, the sacred bond between retail workers was irrevocably broken. Attempting to bargain is right up there with “No price tag? That means it’s free, right?” on the Official List of Annoying Shit Customers Say ™ and is unforgivable under the best of circumstances. I have no choice but to call Wal-Mart’s 800 number and report this dude as a devil worshiper, then wear his blood-spattered name badge as a warning to anyone else who seeks to betray the Brotherhood of Service Representatives.

Pin that to your vest, you heretic.