Yippeddy squee!

I found 3 gluten free entrees at the grocery store tonight! 3! Well, 5, actually, but I just bought the 3. One was clearly labeled gluten free, canneloni. From a brand called Caesars. This will be my lunch tomorrow. The other two are jambalaya and red beans and rice. I can't tell you how good it will be to have something that isn't TexMex. I'm seriously getting sick of tacos.

A guy at work is gone. The line from management is the usual; "he's no longer with Barnes and Noble." No indication of what the hell happened. Although, I do know, but will not say here, in a public forum (hey, even I have self preservation tendencies sometimes.) I will say that I'm terribly disappointed. Ugh, I hate when things like this happen.

Today it was exactly a week ago that I tried and failed to catch a metal toilet paper holder with my forehead. I have a lovely dent in the skin and I think I'll have a tiny scar for awhile. Still have a bone bruise and the dent is owie, so being a born masochist I touch it every so often. Hey, I ate dirt when I was a kid and jumped off garages! That's right, I'm certifiable!

The icon is in honor of the walk back from the grocery store. Isn't it fun how that seems to happen when you're wearing a white and pale pink shirt?

You just have to know how to talk to these sales people

I have to get this off my chest because these people enraged me. First was an old lady who insisted on asking me a question while I was knelt down, reaching out to put on a book on a shelf and also talking with a customer on the phone. I got the person put on hold, looked up and said (with considerably more cheer than I felt) hello to her. She started in on with the complaint, rather than asking about her damn book. I suppose it's so much more important to bitch and moan than to get what you wanted and get out of my face. She asked if someone is working at the desk. I said yes, that would be me! And my voice got chirpier, pretty soon I was going to sprout wings and fly off. She still complains and I'm nodding in a totally insincere, I understand, yes, yes, mm hmm... Finally I get her to ask for the book.

"Well, do you know where they keep the Bill Bryson books?" she asks in a totally and unnecessarily bitchy tone.

I give her the consideration face, which enraged her (snicker) and then rattled off all the places in the store where his books can be found. She waves her hand in a shut up gesture and blathers somethingsomething kid. I took one step to the side (partially to keep from throwing her to the ground) and then reached over and plucked The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid right of the shelf. She grudgingly thanks me and stalks off with a "I'm going to go find your manager" spring in her step.

You know, guys, I really wish I could stand behind a counter and simply wait to answer questions. The reality of the current economy is that I have to accomplish tasks as well as answer questions. I always carry a phone and I always make sure that I'm keeping the desk within my sights or have another bookseller nearby, manning it. I love helping customers, but if you condescend to me, you get my bare minimum, which is a shame, because I think my best is pretty spectacular.

Which leads me to bitch customer number 2.

Lady comes up to the counter. "Where are the chairs?"

Confused, I shrug slightly. "They're towards the back and over by the window."

"Are there any upstairs?"

"Oh yes," I say, perking up, because I think she's going to bugger off now that I know what she's going to do.

"What kind of chairs?"

"Oh, well, just the wooden ones, the comfy chairs are on this floor."

"How many of them are there?"

"Um, four? Two in back, two by the window, and wooden chairs scattered around."

"Do you know for certain that there are no chairs upstairs?"

"There are, they're wooden chairs."

"Not those," she sighs, "the others," making it clear she thinks I'm an idiot.

"Just the wooden."

More sighs, pause.

"What about the first floor?"

"No, no comfy chairs on first."

"Are you sure, because I want to sit and read. Is this the only floor where I can sit and read?"

I shake my head. "No! You can read on any floor."

"Well, I can't read on this floor, because someone is in the chairs," she explains very slowly, like I've had a stroke within this five minute conversation about chairs. She continues to blather on until she's satisfied she's made her point, then stalks off in the direction of the up escalator to the third floor.

And just so you don't think I'm just picking on the women, although this guy was more; "who raised you, monkey?" than stunningly rude. He waits, while I give a customer restaurant advice (hey, it comes up and it's better to keep folks happy!) and then starts to fidget after about 30 seconds. Here's the thing, if you fidget, death glare me or otherwise try to imply you're more important than the person with whom I'm giving customer service, you just earned a longer wait. Yes, sometimes folks are in a hurry, but there is never a reason to be rude. Trust me, I know, I can be a massive bitch and it always comes back to haunt me. Always. I finally get to him and he requests his title in that; "stupid liberal bookseller" tone and is satisfyingly startled when I know the book right off the bat. We don't have it, he doesn't want to order. So he buggers off, swaggering like the two women I already waited on. This is, this all happened within a 45 minute period. I had a lovely day of chats and smiles with customers and fellow employees, until 4 O'clock rolled around, then I guess the polite and courteous part of the day was over. Lucky me.

If you stuck with this long post of suck, here's your lollipop and thanks for reading. Truly. Getting to vent online is such a cathartic thing, sometimes.