New car, fresh cash, gotta steal!

So, if you follow me on Twitter you might have heard me complaining over the weekend about the jackass who stole the beer.  He was driving a pretty new Chevy Malibu, had his whole family in the car, and stole an 18 pack of Coors Light.  That pissed me off.  I mean, it pisses me off when people steal bear, anyway, but the sheer audacity to steal it with your whole family present, kid and everything, and put it into your SHINY NEW CAR pissed me off to no end.  If you wanna steal a loaf of bread or milk or some such, cool, go for it.  I’d probably applaud you for your survival skills.  You steal a candy bar, I’ll tell you to choke on it and have a nice day.  But you wanna steal beer in front of your family and drive away in your new car…motherfucker, just stay two feet away from me and you might get lucky and I’ll just spit on you.

In other news, life at that store is boring.  The crew is quite the cast of characters, however.  Like the chick with the pink hair.  Pink hair is awesome, I’m not gonna lie.  I just wanna know why I can’t have blue hair and still have a job.  I mean, hell, I get harassed and threatened and get sent to Hell, where we have to bag ice with a fucking scoop and bucket.  I feel like the coal shoveler on the steam engines, which is, of course, the job I always wanted.*

One of these days, though, I’m probably gonna snap and kill somebody, or at the very least cuss them out but good.

Like the bitch that decided I’m not good enough to ring her up because, G-d forbid, I asked her a question.  Apparently no one really likes her, though, so I don’t feel bad.  And I’m sure as fuck not gonna feel guilty when I tell her, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m not allowed to turn the pump on for anyone unless they prepay as it’s our corporate policy to help maintain low gas prices and defeat the felony of drive-off’s, whether they be accidental or otherwise.  Will that be cash or charge?”

This bitch is so anal she makes us check the dates on her cigarettes before she buys them.  Apparently she even had the audacity to open a pack before checking the date and then, upon realizing they weren’t the freshest possible cigarettes she could have purchased, had the gall to demand she be allowed to exchange them.  Um, sorry, how about NO, YOU STUPID, FAT, CUMGUZZLING CUNT!

Whew, sorry, she just really irks me, and I really wish I could say that to her.  Oh, wait, if I’m outside, off camera, and there’s no witnesses, it never happened.  I’m such a bad boy.

*Note:  This is, in fact, a true fact.  That has been my dream job since childhood.  Do not judge me.

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1 Comment

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