Journal it is.
Now. What to journal about? Should I rant about work? Or about another girl I’ve come to like, only to have never had a chance with? Which would I rather get off my chest? Both, really. But which first?
I guess I’ll go ahead and vent a bit with regards to work first. Most of this comes from a conversation I had with Chris yesterday
The other day, I had this dude from the PetCo corporate office come in. I almost went fuckin apeshit on him. I seriously was about to go off. Him and two other corporate dudes come in all random (basically it was a “hey, mike, lets go to the nearest petco and see whats wrong”. I was on my lunch break, but there was another girl in fish… I hear that these guys are in the store, so I come back early from my lunch break to see if this girl (Chelsea) needs any help making the area look a little nicer
So I get over to the fish area, and she’s running around frantically apologizing to these corporate dudes for the way it all looks, and they’re being all nit picky n shit, then one of them calls me over.
Corporate Dude: “hey, come over here”
Me: “yeah? whats wrong?”
Corporate Dude: “you have a dead eel in this tank.”
Corporate Dude: “right there”
Me: “where? I don’t see one”
Corporate Dude: “right there.”
Me: “thats not dead.”
Corporate Dude: “but it isn’t moving.”
Me: “its not dead.”
Corporate Dude: “its buried under the gravel.”
Me: “it isn’t dead.”
Corporate Dude: “well, its going to die, its trapped.”
Me: “No. It’s just under the gravel, its fine.”
Corporate Dude: “it looks like its stuck to me”
Me: “No. Eels just burrow under the gravel. It happens all the time, and they all do it. It’s just what eels do.”
Corporate Dude: “well, it looks sick to me”
Me: mentally: “well, you’re probably a fucking moron who doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of an aquarium, let alone nearly 100. you got nothing better to do on a fucking thursday than come in my store, and tell me how to do my fuckin job?”
I was about to fuckin start raisin fsckin Cain. And I don’t even know where that saying comes from, I just know its Bad. He’s pointing out dead fish n shit… coincidentally most of them are fish that shouldn’t be sold in the first place cuz all they do is die in an aquarium… but we have no choice in the matter cuz stupid mother fuckers like him say we have to have at least X number of these fish in stock at any given time.
Nevermind they just always die. Nevermind these fish grow to be 4 feet tall. Nevermind we can’t properly feed them because you won’t give us funding to maintain the steady supply of special food they need. No, that fish is dieing, and it’s my fault… if he woulda come back ten minutes later and said fuckin word one to me, I woulda just started yellin. Forget about customers, getting fired, anything else. I woulda just went off on his fsckin-corporate-this-is-whats-wrong-with-america doesn’t-know-shit-about-the-company-he-works-for-fat-ass. Here’s this fat bald fuck tellin me how to take care of a fish he’s never even seen before, and probably couldn’t even venture a guess on how to pronounce its name.
It all just makes me wanna reach over, grab his ugly ass lime green tie and strangle him with it as I drag his sorry ass out my fuckin department. But thats just me. And I can’t stand Corporate America.
I think that’ll do for now. More on another failed female interest later.