So, I was manning the cash register alongside this girl I barely know but already can't stand, and who talks too much, and she started telling me about her apartment's...pink-ness. Pink everything, right? Anyway, she buys pink bedsheets, and apparently her boyfriend says that the only way he's sleeping under pink sheets is if she lets him have butt sex with her every we--STOP TELLING ME THIS STUPID STORY!
I don't know you. I don't care. I'm not of legal age to even be hearing this. In the immortal worlds of Tom: "Crazy cock-eyed bitch."
Anyhow; I'm in customer service now, as opposed to merch. Hearsay has it, however, that they'll let me go back to merch as soon as Trey comes up.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
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