To ring in the new year and to make up for the fact I have not been doing much blogging, I'm going to go deep into my story arsenal and pull out one of the stranger (and more embarrassing) moments in my life.
It was early 2009 and I really needed a job. I dropped off resumes at approximately ten locations. One of them, which I was really excited about, was the Halloween store at the mall.
The man who owned the store was one of those people who stared a tad too long as you spoke to him and didn't have much to say in response. After every word that came out of my mouth during the interview he just looked at me for a few seconds. I took this as a cue to speak more.
Because of his mild and somewhat creepy responses I was surprised when he offered me the job.
During the interview he mentioned owning a store one level lower, Sweetness and Lace. I had never gone into the store and had no idea what it was. Like a good interviewee, I pretended. I should have known from the name of the store what type of merchandise was sold there. In fact, I should have gone down stairs and checked the place out.
Guess what? I didn't.
From here on out I will refer to the employees as Creepy Owner, his Pregnant Girlfriend, the "I'm not racist" Racist Girl and the Apathetic Twins.
My first day working there I was in the Halloween Store and met the "I'm not Racist" Racist Girl who who proceeded to tell me about her boyfriend who hates black people.
The apathetic twins were about as responsive as Creepy Owner. They had worked for him for a few years and I think his creepy, silent tendencies eventually wore on them.
It's possible my questions were dumb, but that isn't just cause to stare at me and walk away.
Creepy Owner hardly ever spoke to Pregnant Girlfriend. Watching them interact was a lot like watching me try to talk to my cats.
So, this brings me to the sex shop (sigh). And I'll tell you my absolute favorite story from the entire time I spent working the store.
I was downstairs working in Sweetness and Lace when some woman dragged her loser boyfriend into the store. First, they look through the merchandise on their own.
Finally, they ask my advice.
Immediately I walk them over to something I'd deem "classy sexy." It was conservative and not pink. It sure as hell wasn't crotchless panties. This was the lingerie she was looking for!
I picked up another item.
Eventually I just started point at things.
This is about the time I decided to quit.