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Overheard today at work: "I should get a bar code tattooed on my ass."
Friday, July 25, 2008 @ 9:15 PM
I had a really long shift today. Someone didn't show up, and called halfway through her shift, and she ended up quitting. For some reason, everyone who hates being on the floor hates it and wants to be cashiering. I'm always assigned to cashier and I'd rather be on the floor. (Maybe because I'm one of very few cashiers who don't mumble or outwardly scorn the customers.) Still, everything was basically fine until an hour before closing, when all hell suddenly broke loose for no apparent reason. It was a non-stop stress attack from 7:00-8:15pm. It was an "everything that can go wrong, will go wrong" kind of closing. But now I'm home, and next week, all my shifts are 4-5 hours long. Hurray for short shifts!
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