?

Log in

No account? Create an account
 
 
30 July 2003 @ 12:44 am
I hate your children.  
Attention, all bugs which hop, fly, or bounce; your attention please. This announcement is to inform you that my monitor is strictly off-limits while I am working. This policy will be strictly enforced, and defying the edict shall cost you your life.

On whim I made business cards for Hammerspace (a weak attempt to re-hone my Illustrator skills), and they turned out much better once I got rid of this yellow/green color scheme that I was trying out ... the stars involved were kind of cool, but the colors just started to annoy me. I traded the star-shaped doodles out for a cropped version of the image that is currently on Hammerspace, changed colors accordingly, and was much happier. The green/yellow felt too much like a box of Mike and Ike, which I've never had much love for.

Work has been just thrilling. On Tuesday, they had too many cashiers and not enough customers, so I was sent back into the storeroom to work in Processing (I got to cut open boxes and pull the clothes out, label 'em, and stack 'em in piles!). Today, however, was quite the opposite - not enough cashiers for the number of customers! There were three of us at most ... and more than once, I was the only one open.

One (ugly and old) guy in my line was ... er, completely aroused, so to speak. He dawdled around by my counter for a little while (in turn I resolutely ignored him), but he finally got lost without saying anything. Though creepy ... he was nothing in the "annoying" category compared to Mr. Mathematician, who came through my line a short while later.


Mr. Mathematician had one suit jacket/blazer with him, and he arrived with a newspaper tucked under his arm. He seemed quite personable, and I imagine that he is actually a nice person. The blazer was marked with a 30% discount, and he had the 20% associate discount in addition. I scanned, entered the discounts separately because that is the only way it can be done, and then hit total.

He saw the price (which was around 17$, if I remember correctly.) He balked, said that it couldn't be right. He promptly set down his newspaper and began doing calculations, during which his righteous daughter came over to see what was going on, and she started calculating too. She proclaimed him a "mathematical genius" as they sat there and explained to me why the total wasn't correct, why it should be two (or so) dollars less. We called my manager over, and she started doing calculations. They brought out a calculator. More calculations.

Meanwhile, I looked around and realized that I was the only register open. I also saw that I had developed a long line of bitchy people: every time the register came to the same total and the customer calculations to their same but differing one, you could hear someone mutter offensive phrases. This process continued for awhile, and I grew antsier and antsier - I needed to get these people through, they were doing more and more math (something that hasn't been my strong point), there were the blasted screaming children, and they had my damned manager over with a calculator and we were still getting nowhere.

I glimpsed the Manager on Duty (a.k.a. the Big Cheese, hereafter referred to as MOD) come through the store doors, and suggested that I go get his attention. My manager agreed, and so I dashed off to get him. I stopped mid-dash, however, taken aback by the sight of three police officers and one young man in handcuffs - apparently, he was caught shoplifting a great deal of merchandise, and was being "dealt with."

Funny thing is, I had no idea anything had happened/was happening until that moment, when I recognized the handcuffs, the cops, and the implications of that young man's situation. I didn't get the MOD. He clearly had other things on his mind (namely the young shoplifter and his police escort behind him). Mr. Mathematician, anti-climactically, finally agreed to the "wrong" price and left.

We figured out later that they added the 30% and 20% together to get 50% off the original price, while the register took 30% off the blazer, and then took 20% off the reduced price. Hence the twoish dollars in difference, and the wasted time. Mr. Mathematician, having seen that I had done my part correctly, concluded that whoever programmed the cash registers was on something not quite legal.

They chose not to give me the time off for Otakon. Instead I keep on having days off here and there, and they work me nearly 40 hours but just under so that I do not qualify for full-time stuffages. I laugh, because having been made to work every job currently available in that store, I now know that I can handle and excel at whatever they ask me to do. The fifth shall be the end.

I sat behind the wheel of a car and controlled one for the first time ever today. Highlights of those two hours include:
- hitting a top speed of 20 miles per hour
- circling in a parking lot
- getting flustered when my father shouted "STOP STOP" and hitting the gas instead of the break, and thus driving up onto the curb instead of stopping neatly in the parking space
- laughing hysterically while watching my father push the car off the curb
- A state trooper pulling up beside me in the parking lot, and quizzing me on what to do if I ever saw flashing lights - the correct answer is "pull over to the side of the road and slowly come to a complete stop," or at least that made him happy.

Following your tip, jaekyu, I've been playing around in Painter with the watercolor brush's various options. Current project (hoping it'll turn out well enough to take it to Otakon too ...):
casting demi (the spell, not the actress)
 
 
Current Mood: thirstythirsty
Current Music: "Stories to Tell," Tsuneo Imahori
 
 
 
Jdrunkontea on July 30th, 2003 06:26 am (UTC)
Bah, I'm breaking my internet thingy just to say this--Mr. Mathematician seems to be a clone of my mom. It's embarrasing for both the cashier and the other people in line to wait while individuals argue on the right price. Once I had to stand with my mom for almost an hour while she and the cashier (and later the manager) argued about the price of some shoes that were on sale...Later on, when the dispute was settled my mom didn't even end up buying the shoes.
HEADCLEANER: Krelianantitype on July 30th, 2003 10:54 am (UTC)
getting flustered when my father shouted "STOP STOP" and hitting the gas instead of the break, and thus driving up onto the curb instead of stopping neatly in the parking space

Agh, I hate that! :B Like it's going to help to have someone barking about commands and startling you...