Last night was a miserable night at work.
No help, graduation night, so there was a lot of out-of-towners, over imbibers, sickies, sickos, psychos, Suckos and jerkwads out. Both high schools had their all-night parties, which meant that there were a lot of pictures being run and a lot of HILARIOUS underage kids in the store until the crack of dawn, breaking things, arranging nail polish into designs on the floor, throwing balls, and generally doing the kinds of things that make me glad that I have no intention of breeding. My dogs barely know how to shake hands and are only marginally better trained than hyenas, yet they feel some amount of shame when they spill things all over the floor.
And of course, I was in the store's ridiculous excuse for a courtesy wheelchair, which is a monstrosity in poorly assembled plastic and bent metal, or or limping very slowly and painfully on crutches between the photo lab, where the customers were incapable of reading simple instructions like "Please Wait. Do Not Remove Your Memory Device." (Uhh, this was taking forever to load my 433 photos, so I pulled out my memory card, now it's saying I have to start over - Do I have to start over now??) Pharmacy, which I couldn't really do at the risk of leaving the store unattended, leaving my poor Pharmacist back there by himself with around a dozen sick folks, (Which I don't feel too horribly about, he gets paid $30 more an hour than me) and the front register, where every other customer either had some hilarious joke about my ankle or they were pissed about the paper wrapped flammable cancer sticks they were buying.
Bah. I need to sell a book series and buy a Motel soon, before I decide to see how many whiny, self important customers I can fit in a box crusher.