A few months ago, I came across several items during my loan walking and ordinary retail duties which were labeled as having "ass" (see All Board The Ass Train). It was such a fine time in my pawn shop career, never knowing when I would look at the label of an item and discover that it came with "ass" and that the "ass" had been put in drawer #3 with all the other "ass" for safe keeping until said item and it's "ass" were sold.
The other day, I was efficiently plowing through my daily task of loan walking (see Loan Walking) when I came upon a vacuum. The brand is not important, nor is the color--which was blue, if you must know--but what I would have you know is that the ever so amusing abbreviation of "ass" had reemerged.
There was a note on the loan sticker of this specific vacuum which declared that it was "missing one ass".
I laughed and wondered what a vacuum would look like if it had not one, not two, but multiple "ass". It would seem counter-productive as such things normally don't have any suction, but, on the contrary, expel things you don't want to have around. Maybe it's a good thing that it's missing one of its "ass".
30 March 2011
28 March 2011
Scandalous, Bodily Fluid Exchanging Origins
One of our frequent customers came into the pawn shop with a friend today. This friend ended up purchasing a digital camera, a camera which I was blessed to ring up for him. No, it was a not a blessing because I received any sort of commission for the sale, but because of the conversation we had while the transaction occurred.
At first, the friend actually wanted to see two different cameras. They were both Kodak Easy Shares, but one had 4.0 mega pixels and the other had 8.2 mega pixels. This friend had no idea which one was supposed to be better--and, no, his ignorance was not feigned--and he asked the frequent customer which was better. The frequent customer responded that the one with more mega pixels was supposed to be superior and then added that the nicer one looked a lot like the digital camera he owned. The friend asked how much he paid for it, to which the frequent customer replied, "Nothing. I stole it."
I was shocked that he would admit that so openly and without the slightest hint of shame or remorse. But, then again, I shouldn't have been so surprised--all things considered . . . Anyway, hoping that there was a good story I could get out of this (see The Things Customers Are Willing To Tell Me), I discreetly probed for more details. And, boy, was I rewarded.
As it turns out, this frequent customer obtained the camera from a woman after having sex with her. "You stole from a woman you shagged?" I asked, to which he tried to explain why "shag" was not the right term for the encounter they had had. He then changed his story to saying that this woman gave him the camera, that he did not steal it, but that she gave it to him out of gratitude for his dirty services. "She gave it to me and then she gave it to me? Get it?"
Unfortunately, there wasn't much to get and I got it with much more clarity than I would have ever wanted.
After the friend had purchased the camera, I told my fellow employees about the frequent customer stealing the camera from a woman he had slept with. Upon hearing this, one of my co-workers asked if I was referring to the camera he had just sold us.
It was in that moment that I understood why this frequent customer tried to cover up his foolish slip of the tongue. He was planning on selling the stolen camera and did not want us to know the details of its scandalous, bodily fluid exchanging origins. What a fool.
At first, the friend actually wanted to see two different cameras. They were both Kodak Easy Shares, but one had 4.0 mega pixels and the other had 8.2 mega pixels. This friend had no idea which one was supposed to be better--and, no, his ignorance was not feigned--and he asked the frequent customer which was better. The frequent customer responded that the one with more mega pixels was supposed to be superior and then added that the nicer one looked a lot like the digital camera he owned. The friend asked how much he paid for it, to which the frequent customer replied, "Nothing. I stole it."
I was shocked that he would admit that so openly and without the slightest hint of shame or remorse. But, then again, I shouldn't have been so surprised--all things considered . . . Anyway, hoping that there was a good story I could get out of this (see The Things Customers Are Willing To Tell Me), I discreetly probed for more details. And, boy, was I rewarded.
As it turns out, this frequent customer obtained the camera from a woman after having sex with her. "You stole from a woman you shagged?" I asked, to which he tried to explain why "shag" was not the right term for the encounter they had had. He then changed his story to saying that this woman gave him the camera, that he did not steal it, but that she gave it to him out of gratitude for his dirty services. "She gave it to me and then she gave it to me? Get it?"
Unfortunately, there wasn't much to get and I got it with much more clarity than I would have ever wanted.
After the friend had purchased the camera, I told my fellow employees about the frequent customer stealing the camera from a woman he had slept with. Upon hearing this, one of my co-workers asked if I was referring to the camera he had just sold us.
It was in that moment that I understood why this frequent customer tried to cover up his foolish slip of the tongue. He was planning on selling the stolen camera and did not want us to know the details of its scandalous, bodily fluid exchanging origins. What a fool.
24 March 2011
Timeless Pawn Shop Question #1
There are some questions which simply cannot be answered -- Which came first, the chicken or the egg? If a tree falls in the woods with no one around to hear it, does it make a sound? -- You know, crap like that.
Well, the realm of the pawn shop also has such questions.
Well, the realm of the pawn shop also has such questions.
TIMELESS PAWN SHOP QUESTION #1:
Why is it that the customers with the rankest of body odors are the ones who stay the longest?
The best part of waking up is not the Folgers in my cup, it's the smell of B.O and dog stenches that helps me greet the day.
22 March 2011
"This, too, shall pass."
Well, I survived last week (see Accepted! / Janky Microwaves, Pawn Shop Blitz - Day 2, Pawn Shop Blitz - Day 3, Pawn Shop Blitz - Day 4 , Pawn Shop Blitz - Day 5, Pawn Shop Blitz - Day 6), but I don't think I'm totally recuperated just yet. And, silly me, I told the manager over scheduling to schedule me for fifty to fifty-five hours a week. I didn't want to tell him that because I know he'll be more than happy to oblige, but I need the money to move to Boston (I had a really good housing prospect come my way today. So, cross your fingers for me if you're a wuss or work some ancient apartment voodoo if you're hardcore and awesome like me).
Moving on.
The other day, My Twin, approached me with a concerned look on his face. When I asked him what was wrong, he responded that he had just swallowed a paper clip.
Apparently, he had put a paper clip into his breast pocket--the same location where he had put his pennicilin (which he was taking after having his wisdom teeth pulled). When it was time to take his medication, he, without thinking, pulled out all the contents of said pocket, tossed it all into his mouth, and gulped it all down with a chug of water. It wasn't until after he had swallowed that he realized what he had just done.
Later, he called his fiance to tell her the story. Her response was that "This, too, shall pass." I responded that it probably would if it didn't get snagged on something before completing it's journey. It is, after all, hook shaped.
Moving on.
The other day, My Twin, approached me with a concerned look on his face. When I asked him what was wrong, he responded that he had just swallowed a paper clip.
Apparently, he had put a paper clip into his breast pocket--the same location where he had put his pennicilin (which he was taking after having his wisdom teeth pulled). When it was time to take his medication, he, without thinking, pulled out all the contents of said pocket, tossed it all into his mouth, and gulped it all down with a chug of water. It wasn't until after he had swallowed that he realized what he had just done.
Later, he called his fiance to tell her the story. Her response was that "This, too, shall pass." I responded that it probably would if it didn't get snagged on something before completing it's journey. It is, after all, hook shaped.
19 March 2011
Pawn Shop Blitz - Day 6
Ah! The week has finally ended! And what a gloriously short work day today was at a mere 8.69 hours! That means my total for this past week comes to a whopping 62.51 hours. Dang! I look forward to seeing that check in a couple weeks.
Now, gather 'round, kids, and hear a tale. It is a short tale and will not take much of your time. It is called:
Until next time, kids, eat your broccoli and keep reading!
Now, gather 'round, kids, and hear a tale. It is a short tale and will not take much of your time. It is called:
The Tale of the Scabby Old People
Once, there was a young man. And even though he was devilishly handsome and highly intelligent, certain events brought him into employement at a pawn shop. He often enjoyed his work at said establishment, namely because of the odd experiences it provided him--and this is one of them.
One day, as he was in the midst of fulfilling the plethora of his ordinary pawn shop responsibilities (for which he was moderately underpaid), he noticed an old couple hunched over the jewelry display case. He approached them--not because he wanted to, but out of duty. He feigned unconditional kindness, as all sales people are known for doing, and offered his assistance.
He would have liked to have said the first thing he noticed about the old couple was their kind demeanor and general cheerfulness, but that would have been a lie. The first thing he noticed about them were their scabs.
The old woman had each earlobe pierce three times, but the highest of these piercings on one ear seemed to have been stretched out and filled with what appeared to be a large, grayish pebble. The old man had also had a scab, but it was not on his earlobe. It was on his head just above his forehead where his hair would have been if it had not fallen out and become exceedingly thin.
The old couple was searching for a particular diamond ring they had seen on a previous visit to the pawn shop, and the young man was able to locate it and then bring it out of the display case so they could inspect it closer.
While the old couple was inspecting the ring, the young man could help but steal numerous glances at the old woman's earlobe. The pebble-ish thing looked like a scab, but he couldn't be quite sure. It almost looked like an earring, but it also looked to ugly and humanly organic to be an earring. Either way, scab or not, it disgusted him. There were also several occasions when the old man hunched over the ring or the case, thus swinging his balding, scabby head very close to the young man's face. The poor, young man was forced to jerk backwards so as not to be in such a close proxmity to this hideous wound (which was quite large) that he would have been able to kiss it if he had such a revolting, unnatural desire--which he did not.
Eventually, the couple decided that they wanted to make the ring their own, but as most people who wander into the pawn shop, they were selfish and stupid. They did not want to pay the price with which the ring was marked and tried to negotiate a lower price. But little did this pair of scabbed, wrinkled individuals know that the young, wrinkle-and-scabless, charming young man loathed hagglers. He had no sympathy towards their demands, and they left without the ring, vowing to come back later to obtain a lower price for the coveted piece of fine jewelry.
The End.
Until next time, kids, eat your broccoli and keep reading!
18 March 2011
Pawn Shop Blitz - Day 5
Here is my hours report.
DAY: 10.67
WEEK: 53.82
As far as the pawn shop goes, I am going to write very little. There is some serious drama going down in my family. I am currently researching what it takes to get someone (and by "someone" I mean a certain family member) committed for a mental evaluation. I just learned that they believe and are telling people that I am possessed by Satan himself and that I can control people's minds. Apparently, I am also able to make people hurt themselves against their own will. Wow. I didn't realize I was so powerful. I am not sure I will post more on this topic, but it's pretty much all I can think about right now, so, here you go--have a taste of my family life.
What I will share about my job, though, involves how much my feet hurt from working so much this week. I don't think I've ever worked this much, and I have at least eight more hours tomorrow before it's over. It's getting to the point where it is uncomfortable to stand at all. I think I may need to get shoe inserts, especailly when I consider the fact that I will be asking for lots and lots of hours so I can save money to move to Boston. It'll all be worth it in the end.
DAY: 10.67
WEEK: 53.82
As far as the pawn shop goes, I am going to write very little. There is some serious drama going down in my family. I am currently researching what it takes to get someone (and by "someone" I mean a certain family member) committed for a mental evaluation. I just learned that they believe and are telling people that I am possessed by Satan himself and that I can control people's minds. Apparently, I am also able to make people hurt themselves against their own will. Wow. I didn't realize I was so powerful. I am not sure I will post more on this topic, but it's pretty much all I can think about right now, so, here you go--have a taste of my family life.
What I will share about my job, though, involves how much my feet hurt from working so much this week. I don't think I've ever worked this much, and I have at least eight more hours tomorrow before it's over. It's getting to the point where it is uncomfortable to stand at all. I think I may need to get shoe inserts, especailly when I consider the fact that I will be asking for lots and lots of hours so I can save money to move to Boston. It'll all be worth it in the end.
17 March 2011
Pawn Shop Blitz - Day 4
I am somewhat ashamed of myself. I only worked 9.99 hours today. It wasn't even in the double digits. But I think I make up for it a little bit when my total work hours for the past four days equal 43.60. Wow. Only two more days until I have a chance to relax a little bit.
Today, I will share something I find very entertaining -- sweeping the parking lot.
This needs to be done at least once every day, and it has been a much more enjoyable task since the weather has been so nice these past few days. I just wanted to share some of the things I have found in the parking lot. Some aren't so shocking, but some of them sure are.
- Endless supply of cigarette butts
- A dirty diaper
- Unidentifiable, chunky brown substance
- A condom wrapper (no condom, thank goodness. Those are found in different places. See Beware: Used(?) Condom Inside)
- A half full ice-cream,coffee beverage (a herpe-ccino or syphil-lotte, perhaps. Mmm. Delicious burning)
- A large strip of plastic, the kind you find hanging in the entrances to huge meat freezers
- A TV or other appliance that was left behind by a customer after we refused to buy due to some malfunction which would have made it unethical for us to sell to someone.
- Crumbled pieces of sliced bread
You never know what you're going to find out there. It's fun.
PS - Today was Saint Patrick's Day. I joked with a co-worker that he wasn't wearing green and that I hoped some annoying customer would pinch the Hell out of him. He responded that I wasn't wearing any green either. I then told him I was wearing a green condom. I offered to show him, but he refused and promptly left my presence.
Today, I will share something I find very entertaining -- sweeping the parking lot.
This needs to be done at least once every day, and it has been a much more enjoyable task since the weather has been so nice these past few days. I just wanted to share some of the things I have found in the parking lot. Some aren't so shocking, but some of them sure are.
- Endless supply of cigarette butts
- A dirty diaper
- Unidentifiable, chunky brown substance
- A condom wrapper (no condom, thank goodness. Those are found in different places. See Beware: Used(?) Condom Inside)
- A half full ice-cream,coffee beverage (a herpe-ccino or syphil-lotte, perhaps. Mmm. Delicious burning)
- A large strip of plastic, the kind you find hanging in the entrances to huge meat freezers
- A TV or other appliance that was left behind by a customer after we refused to buy due to some malfunction which would have made it unethical for us to sell to someone.
- Crumbled pieces of sliced bread
You never know what you're going to find out there. It's fun.
PS - Today was Saint Patrick's Day. I joked with a co-worker that he wasn't wearing green and that I hoped some annoying customer would pinch the Hell out of him. He responded that I wasn't wearing any green either. I then told him I was wearing a green condom. I offered to show him, but he refused and promptly left my presence.
16 March 2011
Pawn Shop Blitz - Day 3
Today, I worked about 11 hours. That brings my total for the week to a little over 33 hours! Hooray for me!
I may complain about this, but I really shouldn't. I do have to move to Boston very soon. My original plan was to not move until August when my lease is up, but most of the people I have contacted (usually via Craig's List) need people to move in sooner. I really don't want to move sooner than August, but I may have to--which means I will not have as much time as I would like to save money. This whole moving across the country thing is freaking me out. I have a horrible feeling I will have to be homeless for a while, just drift around the Boston area in my Buick with all of my possessions precariously tied to the roof of my car in Grapes of Wrath fashion.
Moving on!
Today was okay. If you consider okay being horribly understaffed in the first place and then having someone call in because his car broke down while he was out of town. Douche bag.
There was one point (among many others) when I became frustrated. This instance involved our DVD special.
We have a great special on DVDs right now. You can buy then individually for $3.25 OR if you buy 5 you will get each for $2.00 OR if you buy 10 you will get each for the low, low, unbelievable, crazy price of $1.50! The only catch is that to get the special prices, you have to buy the DVDs in increments of 5 or 10 to get the special prices. If you bought a 6th or 11th DVD, for example, it would go back to the normal price of $3.25 until you got back to buying a set of 5 or 10. One customer, however, was not pleased.
When he brought up 16 DVDs to the counter and I told him he needed to get 4 more for the special 10 for $15 price for a SECOND set of 10 DVDs, he threw a fit. He didn't understand why he was being "penalized".
Penalized? I wanted to slap him. I had better things to do with my time than to argue with stupid people, but I didn't want to give in (which I could have easily done) becasuse I have to deal with people all day, every day who want things for practically nothing. It makes me angry.
I tried to just pass of our policy as being our policy. It's just how we do things. It's a special, and you have to follow the guidelines of the special to get it. "But I don't think I should be penalized," he responded.
I then tried to explain that even $3.25 for a single DVD was a phenomenal price. "But I don't understand why you're penalizing me."
I couldn't quite understand what he meant by "penalized", and, at this point, I began to doubt he knew what he meant, either. He then began to demand to speak to a manager about this "penalty".
I tried to diffuse his stubbornness and stupidity but failed. He was not going to give up. When my manager finally entered the scene, the man explained his complaint and said that if he bought 10 DVDs that he should get all further DVDs for $1.50 instead of having the price bumped back up unless he bought them in the predetermined increments.
I watched as my manager listened and I knew he was going to give into the man just to shut him up. I, however, am often heartless and would not have given into this stupid man's ridiculous demands. In my mind, I was screaming "DON'T GIVE IT TO HIM! DON'T GIVE IT TO HIM! DON'T LET HIM WIN!" Apparently, I need to work on my telepathy because my manager gave no hint of hearing my frantic inner-screams. He granted the man the ability to buy all his DVDs for $1.50. He looked so smug that I could have stabbed him.
So, after all of that, how many DVDs did this man buy? 20. Yes, he bought 20 DVDs, meaning that he didn't need to argue about the price because that would have fallen under two sets of 10 DVDs, which meant they all would have been $1.50 anyway. At this point, I was furious--but hiding it deep inside--and said, "You're getting 20 DVDs? So, there was no need to argue. You must just like blowing smoke."
The man responded that he just didn't think "people should be penalized."
I had nothing nice to say, so I didn't say anything at all. I turned and walked away.
I may complain about this, but I really shouldn't. I do have to move to Boston very soon. My original plan was to not move until August when my lease is up, but most of the people I have contacted (usually via Craig's List) need people to move in sooner. I really don't want to move sooner than August, but I may have to--which means I will not have as much time as I would like to save money. This whole moving across the country thing is freaking me out. I have a horrible feeling I will have to be homeless for a while, just drift around the Boston area in my Buick with all of my possessions precariously tied to the roof of my car in Grapes of Wrath fashion.
Moving on!
Today was okay. If you consider okay being horribly understaffed in the first place and then having someone call in because his car broke down while he was out of town. Douche bag.
There was one point (among many others) when I became frustrated. This instance involved our DVD special.
We have a great special on DVDs right now. You can buy then individually for $3.25 OR if you buy 5 you will get each for $2.00 OR if you buy 10 you will get each for the low, low, unbelievable, crazy price of $1.50! The only catch is that to get the special prices, you have to buy the DVDs in increments of 5 or 10 to get the special prices. If you bought a 6th or 11th DVD, for example, it would go back to the normal price of $3.25 until you got back to buying a set of 5 or 10. One customer, however, was not pleased.
When he brought up 16 DVDs to the counter and I told him he needed to get 4 more for the special 10 for $15 price for a SECOND set of 10 DVDs, he threw a fit. He didn't understand why he was being "penalized".
Penalized? I wanted to slap him. I had better things to do with my time than to argue with stupid people, but I didn't want to give in (which I could have easily done) becasuse I have to deal with people all day, every day who want things for practically nothing. It makes me angry.
I tried to just pass of our policy as being our policy. It's just how we do things. It's a special, and you have to follow the guidelines of the special to get it. "But I don't think I should be penalized," he responded.
I then tried to explain that even $3.25 for a single DVD was a phenomenal price. "But I don't understand why you're penalizing me."
I couldn't quite understand what he meant by "penalized", and, at this point, I began to doubt he knew what he meant, either. He then began to demand to speak to a manager about this "penalty".
I tried to diffuse his stubbornness and stupidity but failed. He was not going to give up. When my manager finally entered the scene, the man explained his complaint and said that if he bought 10 DVDs that he should get all further DVDs for $1.50 instead of having the price bumped back up unless he bought them in the predetermined increments.
I watched as my manager listened and I knew he was going to give into the man just to shut him up. I, however, am often heartless and would not have given into this stupid man's ridiculous demands. In my mind, I was screaming "DON'T GIVE IT TO HIM! DON'T GIVE IT TO HIM! DON'T LET HIM WIN!" Apparently, I need to work on my telepathy because my manager gave no hint of hearing my frantic inner-screams. He granted the man the ability to buy all his DVDs for $1.50. He looked so smug that I could have stabbed him.
So, after all of that, how many DVDs did this man buy? 20. Yes, he bought 20 DVDs, meaning that he didn't need to argue about the price because that would have fallen under two sets of 10 DVDs, which meant they all would have been $1.50 anyway. At this point, I was furious--but hiding it deep inside--and said, "You're getting 20 DVDs? So, there was no need to argue. You must just like blowing smoke."
The man responded that he just didn't think "people should be penalized."
I had nothing nice to say, so I didn't say anything at all. I turned and walked away.
15 March 2011
Pawn Shop Blitz - Day 2
This week is the Spring Break for the university and community college where I live. This means that about half of the dozen employees will be gone this entire week. They will be enjoying themselves in the company of relatives in home towns or with friends at far off locations such as Florida while I and my remaining fellow employees suffer under the weight of their absence. I will be working 6 consecutive days, all of which will involving working 10 to 12 hours. Yesterday, Day 1, I worked 10 hours. Today, I worked just over 12. Only God knows what tomorrow will bring. But my goal for the week is to blog something each day from this Pawn Shop Blitz.
Looking back on today, there is one thing that stands out from the rest, but only because it is revolting. Beware. This post is not for the queasy of stomach.
My Twin (see My Twin) approached me and asked me if I knew one of our regular customers. She is a horribly annoying and uncleanly person. Anyway, this morning, she was at the pawn counter eating an Egg McMuffin and he was lucky enough to wait on her. The poor man.
For starters, it is not okay to bring in food and eat it while in a different store. It is also not okay to eat like a complete pig. This woman was putting something into a pawn loan, and while My Twin entered the necessary information into the computer, she unabashedly chomped away on her breakfast, slurping and mushing and glarping her food as she mashed it to bits between her decaying teeth and as bits of the demolished sandwich fell out of her mouth onto the counter.
Then, just as he was about to finish the transaction, this woman turned to her son and said "Come here! Let me get that for you!" at which point, she reached out for her son's face.
Yes. It was as horrifying as you probably imagine.
This woman reached over and popped her son's zit in public--while eating an Egg McMuffin! My Twin looked away, but even though his eyes were spared the horrendous sight, he heard the POP as this woman pinched her son's face and released the grease bulging underneath his bubbled zit skin in a stream of squirting puss.
On the plus side, I didn't have to witness this in person and my boss ordered everyone pizza.
Looking back on today, there is one thing that stands out from the rest, but only because it is revolting. Beware. This post is not for the queasy of stomach.
My Twin (see My Twin) approached me and asked me if I knew one of our regular customers. She is a horribly annoying and uncleanly person. Anyway, this morning, she was at the pawn counter eating an Egg McMuffin and he was lucky enough to wait on her. The poor man.
For starters, it is not okay to bring in food and eat it while in a different store. It is also not okay to eat like a complete pig. This woman was putting something into a pawn loan, and while My Twin entered the necessary information into the computer, she unabashedly chomped away on her breakfast, slurping and mushing and glarping her food as she mashed it to bits between her decaying teeth and as bits of the demolished sandwich fell out of her mouth onto the counter.
Then, just as he was about to finish the transaction, this woman turned to her son and said "Come here! Let me get that for you!" at which point, she reached out for her son's face.
Yes. It was as horrifying as you probably imagine.
This woman reached over and popped her son's zit in public--while eating an Egg McMuffin! My Twin looked away, but even though his eyes were spared the horrendous sight, he heard the POP as this woman pinched her son's face and released the grease bulging underneath his bubbled zit skin in a stream of squirting puss.
On the plus side, I didn't have to witness this in person and my boss ordered everyone pizza.
14 March 2011
Accepted! / Janky Microwaves
As you should all be aware, I have been taking a year off from my education (because I was forced, not because I initially chose to). Well, things are about to change . . . in about six months or so.
I applied to 9 different graduate programs for the coming fall, 8 of which were MFA programs in Creative Writing. The 9th program was at Emerson College for a Master's in Publishing and Writing. The program sounded amazing and was my top choice because not only could I focus on my writing, but I would also be able to learn about publishing, live in close proximity to a number of publishers to make it easier for internship and job opportunities, and I'd get to live in an awesome place like Boston.
Well, guess what. I got accepted into the program at Emerson. I have already filled out some financial aid papers and have been looking for housing. I know it's forever away, but this will be the first time I've moved across the country entirely on my own. I know no one in Boston and want to get things set up as soon as possible. There are so many things to figure out and it's as exciting as it is scary. I still have a few other programs to hear back from, but I have decided that Emerson is the best option for me. It is official. I will be moving to Boston this fall.
In the mean time, I will be updating you about my long transition to the Boston area and, of course, continue sharing my priceless experiences at the pawn shop. Speaking of which, here's a brief one:
My twin (see My Twin) works too hard for his own good. He gets to work earlier than most people and works all day without any real breaks. To add on top of his unhealthy work obsession, he is a head manager and is constantly being pulled in a number of different directions.
Anyway, my twin is prone to consume those Campbell's soup things that you heat up in the microwave and then drink out of the container. Recently, there have been a few occasions when he has started heating his soup cup and then walked off, only to return to find it knocked over inside the microwave with his soup spilt everywhere. He had suspicions about who was doing it, but was never quite sure.
Today, my twin brought in a Campbell's soup to work, but this container was more squat than usual. I was sitting down at the break table to complete my loan walking (see Loan Walking) when he put his soup into the microwave and told me he thought it wouldn't tip over since it wasn't so tall and thin. I joked about knocking it over on purpose just to spite him. We laughed and he walked off as his soup began revolving inside the microwave.
I returned to my work and carried on for about a minute until I heard a series of strange clanking from the microwave behind me. When I turned around, I found his soup container tipped over. I screamed and quickly straightened it. Luckily, there was a vented lid on the container so only a small amount of it spilled out. I then had the unfortunate responsibility of informing him of the tragedy. I thought he might have thought my joke about purposefully spilling his soup had been an actual threat, but he didn't.
As it turns out, no one was responsible for the soup spillages. We just have a janky microwave.
I applied to 9 different graduate programs for the coming fall, 8 of which were MFA programs in Creative Writing. The 9th program was at Emerson College for a Master's in Publishing and Writing. The program sounded amazing and was my top choice because not only could I focus on my writing, but I would also be able to learn about publishing, live in close proximity to a number of publishers to make it easier for internship and job opportunities, and I'd get to live in an awesome place like Boston.
Well, guess what. I got accepted into the program at Emerson. I have already filled out some financial aid papers and have been looking for housing. I know it's forever away, but this will be the first time I've moved across the country entirely on my own. I know no one in Boston and want to get things set up as soon as possible. There are so many things to figure out and it's as exciting as it is scary. I still have a few other programs to hear back from, but I have decided that Emerson is the best option for me. It is official. I will be moving to Boston this fall.
In the mean time, I will be updating you about my long transition to the Boston area and, of course, continue sharing my priceless experiences at the pawn shop. Speaking of which, here's a brief one:
My twin (see My Twin) works too hard for his own good. He gets to work earlier than most people and works all day without any real breaks. To add on top of his unhealthy work obsession, he is a head manager and is constantly being pulled in a number of different directions.
Anyway, my twin is prone to consume those Campbell's soup things that you heat up in the microwave and then drink out of the container. Recently, there have been a few occasions when he has started heating his soup cup and then walked off, only to return to find it knocked over inside the microwave with his soup spilt everywhere. He had suspicions about who was doing it, but was never quite sure.
Today, my twin brought in a Campbell's soup to work, but this container was more squat than usual. I was sitting down at the break table to complete my loan walking (see Loan Walking) when he put his soup into the microwave and told me he thought it wouldn't tip over since it wasn't so tall and thin. I joked about knocking it over on purpose just to spite him. We laughed and he walked off as his soup began revolving inside the microwave.
I returned to my work and carried on for about a minute until I heard a series of strange clanking from the microwave behind me. When I turned around, I found his soup container tipped over. I screamed and quickly straightened it. Luckily, there was a vented lid on the container so only a small amount of it spilled out. I then had the unfortunate responsibility of informing him of the tragedy. I thought he might have thought my joke about purposefully spilling his soup had been an actual threat, but he didn't.
As it turns out, no one was responsible for the soup spillages. We just have a janky microwave.
03 March 2011
The Fairie Fantatic
pThere are two posts from a while ago, Glitter Dragons and Sexy (Sometimes Lesbian) Fairies and Fairie Foam, which described an array of decorative--and often scandalous--fairie and/or dragon statuettes. At first, these items sold really well, but lately the demand has lulled and we have been sitting on a large quantity of them for quite some time. But all of that changed today.
This evening, a gentleman struck a deal with the head manager of the store. He wanted to put every single fairie and dragon we had (except for the repeats) on lay-a-way, but the way he wanted to go about paying off his lay-a-way violated a couple different stipulations of our normal lay-a-way procedures. For starters, lay-a-ways generally require a non-refundable down payment of 25% of the final cost of the transaction. This man wanted to purchase almost $1,200 of fairie items and wanted to only pay $100 up front. Secondly, normal lay-a-ways are only 60 days long and if they are not picked up by then, the items are considered forfeited and the customer loses them and the money they had put down. This gentleman, however, offered to faithfully pay $100 a month until his debt was fulfilled.
This offer probably would not have flown if it had been made by anyone else other than this man. This man has a history with our little pawn shop, a history which includes similar monstrous lay-a-ways (one involving over thirty swords of various shapes and sizes) and which has proven him true to his long-term payment promises. So, the management agreed to make an exception, with dollar signs in their eyes, undoubtedly.
This evening, a gentleman struck a deal with the head manager of the store. He wanted to put every single fairie and dragon we had (except for the repeats) on lay-a-way, but the way he wanted to go about paying off his lay-a-way violated a couple different stipulations of our normal lay-a-way procedures. For starters, lay-a-ways generally require a non-refundable down payment of 25% of the final cost of the transaction. This man wanted to purchase almost $1,200 of fairie items and wanted to only pay $100 up front. Secondly, normal lay-a-ways are only 60 days long and if they are not picked up by then, the items are considered forfeited and the customer loses them and the money they had put down. This gentleman, however, offered to faithfully pay $100 a month until his debt was fulfilled.
This offer probably would not have flown if it had been made by anyone else other than this man. This man has a history with our little pawn shop, a history which includes similar monstrous lay-a-ways (one involving over thirty swords of various shapes and sizes) and which has proven him true to his long-term payment promises. So, the management agreed to make an exception, with dollar signs in their eyes, undoubtedly.
I was lucky enough to help label and put away these fairies and dragons which numbered more than thirty. The expansiveness of the array was impressive. There was a fairie with long black and white striped stockings in a ballerina pose, a fairie holding a crystal ball in one hand while a dog-sized dragon crawled up her leg, a fairie sitting on a large toadstool in a thoughtful pose with her chin on her hand and her elbow on her knee, there was a fairie which looked like a female version of Captain America with an attached oil burner, a fairie holding a lantern out in front of her with a wolf at her side, and many, many more. All of these were fairly small, about twelve inches in height. But the fairie table (pictured to the left) was too amazing for me to resist snapping a picture when no one was looking. No, your eyes do not deceive you. It is an end table, about thirty inches tall. And it will be proudly displayed in this man's living room in about ten months once he's paid everything off.
With my mind boggled by the thought of anyone buying so many fairies, I decided to do something drastic. While I was helping tuck the fairies away in the warehouse for their ten to eleven month lay-a-way slumber, the man was lingering around the store and I asked if he had enough space in his house to display all of these miniature statues. He informed me that he did, that he had many, many glass shelves just for this purpose. I then responded that I would love to see what his living room looked like once he had taken all of his fairies home and told him he should bring in a picture for us all to see. He seemed thrilled by my interest and smiled with great pleasure.
Sadly, I will not be around to see a picture if he really does take eleven months to pay off this lay-a-way (as I plan to either go to graduate school or move far away by then). I can only hope that he pays if off much sooner than expected and I am blessed with the visual presentation of his decorative master plan.
02 March 2011
Illicit Tidbits
In this week's employee meeting, an issue was raised and brought to everyone's attention--inappropriate pictures left on the electronic devices which we are trying to sell.
The other day, a fellow employee was approached by a family who was interested in purchasing a PSP. This co-worker of mine gladly unlocked the game case and took out the PSP which the family indicated they wanted. Her original intention was to turn on the electronic gadget to show them that it was in proper working order, but she was shocked when the device activated and the background of the main screen was a picture of "a woman and her bum in a strange position." She tried to go into the settings menus, but try as she might, she was unable to figure out how to remove the picture. After several unsuccessful attempts, she flagged down another worker and had them delete everything on the PSP--because there was no telling what else could have been on there.
This inspired another person to share a somewhat related experience of when a distraught young woman came into the store. She had just learned that her boyfriend had sold his cell phone to us and she was certain that he had not deleted the "inappropriate pictures"--most likely of her--that had been saved on it.
Another person offered a story of how they were starting up someone's laptop in order to check the system specifications (hard drive size, RAM, processor, etc) in order to price it for a pawn loan. When the main screen came on, rather than the peaceful blue of the generic Windows background, there was a collage of pornographic pictures.
This brought us to the conclusion that it is now mandatory that we check all electronic devices which are capable of saving pictures--XBOX 360s, PSPs, PS3s, cell phones, Game Boys, etc--for things which should not be on them. Apparently, there had been a former employee who had been especially good at discovering these illicit tidbits. Only, rather than promptly deleting these naughty media files, he perused them at his leisure and took great pleasure in it. Sleazy, yes, but also hilarious.
The other day, a fellow employee was approached by a family who was interested in purchasing a PSP. This co-worker of mine gladly unlocked the game case and took out the PSP which the family indicated they wanted. Her original intention was to turn on the electronic gadget to show them that it was in proper working order, but she was shocked when the device activated and the background of the main screen was a picture of "a woman and her bum in a strange position." She tried to go into the settings menus, but try as she might, she was unable to figure out how to remove the picture. After several unsuccessful attempts, she flagged down another worker and had them delete everything on the PSP--because there was no telling what else could have been on there.
This inspired another person to share a somewhat related experience of when a distraught young woman came into the store. She had just learned that her boyfriend had sold his cell phone to us and she was certain that he had not deleted the "inappropriate pictures"--most likely of her--that had been saved on it.
Another person offered a story of how they were starting up someone's laptop in order to check the system specifications (hard drive size, RAM, processor, etc) in order to price it for a pawn loan. When the main screen came on, rather than the peaceful blue of the generic Windows background, there was a collage of pornographic pictures.
This brought us to the conclusion that it is now mandatory that we check all electronic devices which are capable of saving pictures--XBOX 360s, PSPs, PS3s, cell phones, Game Boys, etc--for things which should not be on them. Apparently, there had been a former employee who had been especially good at discovering these illicit tidbits. Only, rather than promptly deleting these naughty media files, he perused them at his leisure and took great pleasure in it. Sleazy, yes, but also hilarious.
01 March 2011
The Butt Crack Fee
Over the past six months, I have become acquainted with many annoying people. Today, one especially annoying customer who frequents our store approached me. He wanted to know "what's the best" that we could do on the price--translation--"I think this costs too much but I'm not going to offer you the price I would like to purchase it for because I am afraid I will say something higher than what you are willing to sell it for, and, thus, cheat myself out of additional money I could use on cigarettes and/or alcohol." Dreading the interaction I would be forced to have with this man, I asked him to show me the item to which he was referring. To my disgust, the man turned around to lead the way and I was assaulted by the sight of his flabby, hairy butt crack.
Now, I don't care if you are a hairy overweight man with poor hygiene (such as this individual) or as smooth and toned as Christina Aguilera. Butt cracks peeking out from sagging or undersized pants are never enjoyable to see. It's squished and pale and always inappropriate. I like a nice booty, but a booty is much different than a smashed butt crack. Personally, I cannot understand how so many people walk around with their butt cracks hanging out. People bend over to pick something up--butt crack! People crouch down to look at something--butt crack! Do they not realize that they are uncovered? Can they not feel a draft--especially when it is in such cold winter weather as we are now having?
I originally had no desire to speak to this man--I try to avoid him when he comes into the store--and I was subjected to a portion of his exposed buttocks. I was not happy and had no desire to help him obtain the discount he wanted.
I have been authorized to give customers discounts on anything in the store, but my authority to do so only extends itself up to ten percent off the original cost. Knowing his man was going to ask for something far lower than the ten percent I could offer him, I insisted that he give me the price he would like. In these situations--when the desired discount is greater than the ten percent I can offer--I am required to take the price the customer would like and then take said price and the item to a manager who will either approve the proffered discount or declare a different one.
The item this man wanted was a 5 disc DVD/CD changer priced at $24.99. He offered $16.00. When I asked a manager if that was acceptable, he responded that we'd only knock $5.00 off. I didn't care. I was glad. I asked my manager if we could even raise the price to $34.99. I could see the confusion on his face upon hearing the new price. Surely, he would ask why it went up, and I would gladly respond that there was a "butt crack fee"--an increase in price for every time I had to see his nasty butt crack.
I wish we could instate this fee. It would be so comforting to be able to yell "Butt crack fee! Add 20% to everything you buy!" and point at the person's exposed fanny. How deliciously humiliating it would be.
I know I'm a horrible person, but I've been pushed too far. Pushed, you could say, until I've cracked.
Now, I don't care if you are a hairy overweight man with poor hygiene (such as this individual) or as smooth and toned as Christina Aguilera. Butt cracks peeking out from sagging or undersized pants are never enjoyable to see. It's squished and pale and always inappropriate. I like a nice booty, but a booty is much different than a smashed butt crack. Personally, I cannot understand how so many people walk around with their butt cracks hanging out. People bend over to pick something up--butt crack! People crouch down to look at something--butt crack! Do they not realize that they are uncovered? Can they not feel a draft--especially when it is in such cold winter weather as we are now having?
I originally had no desire to speak to this man--I try to avoid him when he comes into the store--and I was subjected to a portion of his exposed buttocks. I was not happy and had no desire to help him obtain the discount he wanted.
I have been authorized to give customers discounts on anything in the store, but my authority to do so only extends itself up to ten percent off the original cost. Knowing his man was going to ask for something far lower than the ten percent I could offer him, I insisted that he give me the price he would like. In these situations--when the desired discount is greater than the ten percent I can offer--I am required to take the price the customer would like and then take said price and the item to a manager who will either approve the proffered discount or declare a different one.
The item this man wanted was a 5 disc DVD/CD changer priced at $24.99. He offered $16.00. When I asked a manager if that was acceptable, he responded that we'd only knock $5.00 off. I didn't care. I was glad. I asked my manager if we could even raise the price to $34.99. I could see the confusion on his face upon hearing the new price. Surely, he would ask why it went up, and I would gladly respond that there was a "butt crack fee"--an increase in price for every time I had to see his nasty butt crack.
I wish we could instate this fee. It would be so comforting to be able to yell "Butt crack fee! Add 20% to everything you buy!" and point at the person's exposed fanny. How deliciously humiliating it would be.
I know I'm a horrible person, but I've been pushed too far. Pushed, you could say, until I've cracked.
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