clearance-items

PSA: WASH YOUR CLOTHES!!!!

I’ve been working retail for almost 7 months. It’s really made me REALLY appreciate employees. You wouldn’t believe the shitshow we go through sometimes. Anyway that’s besides the point. Please. If you don’t listen to me say anything, listen to this:

WASH YOUR CLOTHES BEFORE YOU WEAR THEM!!!

DO IT!!! PLEASE!!! FOR SANITATION PURPOSES!!!!!

Things fall on the floor, in all parts of the store. And do you know what we do? We pick it up and put it back on the rack like nothing ever happened.

I stress this especially to clearance items. Most things have been in the store for MONTHS. That’s months of different people trying it on. Months of that item falling on the floor. Months of dust that we just pat off and keep moving.

Plus. When people return things, we put them back on the salesfloor. So there’s likely a chance someone wore it the entire day and took it back to the store without washing it.

And it comes right back to the cycle of being tried on and dropped on the floor.

I’m not saying this to scare anyone. In fact, I only buy off the clearance rack. I’m just letting y'all know.

Day Eighty-Two

-After I had to confirm the validity of a coupon, a woman angrily shouted to nobody in particular, “I hate being caught by the coupon police!” I apologized, saying simply that it was just my job. She came back with a swift, “Then I guess I hate you!” This is fair and makes two of us.

-Two adults came through my lane, tallying up how many of each My Little Pony figurine they owned. No child was in sight nor mentioned.

-A woman demanded two different items for the same price on the logic that one of them was a clearance item. This is a truly ingenious shopping strategy.

-An older man shouted at me after asking how his wife was doing at the start of her purchase. He informed me that instead I should have told her that I hoped she gets better soon, the way that strangers ought to with no context.

-Today I have found myself surrounded by the highest concentration of impatient, rude, and entitled angry guests I have yet to deal with since my journey behind the register began. This is also the first day where we have had spray-tanned roadkill as our commander-in-chief. This is almost certainly not a coincidence. 

-A young toddler became mesmerized as his train came to life, rolling by itself right in front of his eyes. He began to shout, “Look at it go! Wow!” I stood there, proud of being able to make such magic happen with the simple use of an average conveyor belt. 

-The sweetest elderly woman ever to grace my lane asked me if the card reader was email. I told her I was not sure. She accepted this answer, acknowledging that no one in this world really knows how technology works.

-I heard the voice of a confused woman carry across the store, exclaiming, “This is not my child!” I have reason to believe that she is likely not the only confused woman in the store right now.

-A young girl with a $50 gift card saw that her total rang up to $49.99 and subsequently completely lost her mind.

-Cat Lady walked into the store and lost no time in launching into a tirade about how splendid she found the inauguration. She had many points to make. None of them were good.

Treat Yo’ Self

Request: A plus-sized, low-income African American gal being gifted T'Challa’s credit card as a [pre] wedding present. But she only buys a handful of clearance/sale items & so T'Challa sits down & has a talk with her to let her know that neither he nor Wakanda is gonna miss a couple thousands or even a couple millions. -SQUEE!-

T’Challa casually held a credit card out to you. You took it reflexively, looking down at it curiously. It looked really fancy, like the type of credit card every filthy rich person gets at birth just to let them know they’re good for life. The holographic picture on it caught the light to show that it was a panther. You looked up at T’Challa with an expression that read “Really?”.

“It is a… pre-wedding gift,” He explained. You immediately attempted to give it back. T’Challa had given you enough. You had him, and none of the wedding expenses came out of your pocket.

“T’Challa I can’t take this-”

“You can and you will,” he insisted smiling indulgently at you, “You never let me get you anything.”

“That’s because I have everything I need… and you’ve already given me the greatest gift I could hope for.”

“And what was that?”

“You.”

“Well, I am a gift that keeps on giving,” he grinned, “If you do not take the credit card and get yourself something nice I will be forced to buy you things myself and I’m sure you don’t want that.”

You glared at his taunting smile and weighed your options. If you didn’t take the credit card and left the gift buying up to him, he would blow a good couple thousand on you easily. If you took the card you would be in control of how much was spent on your behalf.

“Fine,” you conceded, sliding the credit card into your pocket. He seemed pleased with you to surrender as he looked down at you like you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. You never quite understood that look, you were absolutely positive you were the lucky one here, and anyone you asked agreed. You were just a normal girl, living paycheck to paycheck before you met  T’Challa. You grew up poor, so money was tighter than a corset. Frivolous spending? You didn’t know her. Hell, you two are begrudging acquaintances now. Splurging doesn’t come easily to you, much to T’Challa’s frustration.

“Buy yourself something nice. Do not look at the price tag,” he instructed.

“Fine,” you groaned. He laughed at your reluctance and pulled you closer by your waist until your head could rest on his chest.

“I am flattered that you worry so much about my fiscal responsibility,” he joked, “but I promise I’ve got a team of people whose entire job is to watch my financials. They’ll yell at me before you have to.”

“I don’t want them to have to. I’m already this lower class chick marrying a king, I don’t wanna seem like a gold digger on top of that, and I don’t need all the extra you know?”

“My people love you. They see themselves in you and they wish for you to be comfortable.”

“I am comfortable, though.”

“Then just indulge me for one day. Get whatever your heart desires without a second thought of the price.”

“Okay,” you huffed and he shook his head at you. He never ran into anyone who he had to beg to spend his money. He kissed your forehead as you looked up at him.

“You are something else entirely,” he laughed, but then let you go, looking down at his watch, “I have to go, but I’ll see you in two days, at the altar.”

“I’ll be the one in white,” you answered lamely. He kissed you then left to engage in whatever kingly duties were set for him. You had a few plans for the day. First off, you had to finish packing up your apartment in Wakanda. The apartment had been a gift from T’Challa, one you graciously accepted. The two of you met in D.C. he was in the restaurant you worked at with the Avengers. You remembered the day you met T’Challa better than you remembered anything else in your life. He was sitting with the group of superheroes as they talked animatedly looking utterly spiritless. You’d always wondered what they were talking about to make him so lifeless. T’Challa was nothing if not joyful and charmingly ridiculous. You went to the table to take drink orders and he visibly perked up. At first, you just thought he was being nice to you, which you appreciated a lot all on its own. People could be awful to servers, especially at such a high-profile restaurant. You were charming in your own right, throwing out little jokes for the table, he would tell you later that it was love at first joke for him. He kept coming back to the restaurant, striking up a conversation and asking more about yourself. The day he had to leave to go back to Wakanda he asked for your number so he could stay in touch, he also asked for a date whenever he returned to D.C. You didn’t even know he was a king then. He was just the handsome regular from Wakanda that took a liking to you. You didn’t learn he was royalty until a year into your relationship.

You scoffed a little thinking about that, as you taped off the last box in your apartment. You should have known he was royalty. He was simply great in every other way, of course, he was royalty. He told you without even thinking about it, he was surprised to find you surprised. He wanted you to move to Wakanda so you could be closer. Respective cultural customs meant you wouldn’t move in together so you picked out this apartment from the array of extravagant homes T’Challa offered. It was small, and with the job, you found when you got to Wakanda you could pay for it even if T’Challa dumped you.

At the end of your packing, you headed out to grab a quick bite to eat. You were still learning the language of the country but, English was spoken commonly enough that you were usually alright on your own. You’d denied any security detail, though you were sure some members of the Dora Milaje followed you anyway. It never bothered you, T’Challa was just worried about you. As you drove through the city you happened upon a store having a sale. You frequented this place often, it had really nice plus sized clothing. They didn’t just add more fabric to size two they really crafted clothes for full figured women. With T’Challa’s insistence that you buy yourself something nice in mind,  you entered the store. After going in, picking out an outfit and a few nice smelling lotions you consider yourself done. You grabbed some food and headed back home to spend one of two of your last nights unmarried.

Later on, T’Challa called. You answered, pausing the movie you were watching.

“Hey,” you greeted, a smile spreading across your face.

“Hello, how was your day?”

“It was great, I finished packing up here, and I got food from my favorite place, you know the place right next to the bookstore.”

“I do. Did you go into the bookstore?”

“No.”

T’Challa sighed, “I’m looking at how much you spent today and-”

“Was it too much. I just found a really pretty dress and it was on sale so I-”

“Y/N you spent $50. No, it wasn’t too much,” he laughed.

“Oh…”

“You are truly incapable of treating yourself. I booked a spa for you and your friends tomorrow after they are picked up from the airport. A separate driver will pick you up and take you to the spa to meet them there. You are going to let yourself be pampered and if you find a product you like you are going to buy it. Without looking at the price tag. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“You are to spend $500 at least. At the very least, Y/N.”

“Okay.”

“I love you,” he laughed indulgently.

“I love you too.”

~Mod Lillian

Growing Up Batty: Part 2

Prompt: really love your Damian Wayne series! I was wondering if you are willing to do another Damian series where he’s around 13 and Bruce forces Damian to go to school and he has to face what is it like being in middle school with the help of his brothers and he starts to develop feelings for the reader and they get really close and Damian tries to keep her safe and keep her from finding out that he is Robin??

AN: Sorry this took so long to get out. This particular chapter is dedicated to @maryry24

Words: 864

Part 1


“It’s about to expire.”

          You just roll your eyes; you don’t understand why Damian insists on coming shopping with your family. To be quite honest you wouldn’t be here if your mother didn’t mandate it. But in her eyes this was family time, and you suppose it isn’t all that bad. “It doesn’t really matter if we end up eating them tonight.”

          “Those ones will last longer.”

          “They’re also more expensive.”

          He just attempts to stare you down, attempt being the key word. You have four sisters, you aced staring contests a long time ago, when you had to fight for a drawer in the bathroom, for some of your stuff. Sure enough he looks away first, a scowl on his face. He isn’t used to losing, but you figure a little bit of humility might just help the Wayne heir.

          You smile as you load several clearance boxed items into your basket. You’re just about to drag him down the ice cream aisle when someone says, “Dami, is that you?”

          At the sound of the voice Damian stiffens, and pales slightly. You don’t even turn toward the approaching party, too entranced by your best friend’s reaction. You’ve never seen him like this.

          You hear the footsteps stop right beside you, and you watch as Damian turns towards three rather large men. They’re all grinning, and you have a feeling that Damian is in for just a tad bit more humility than you thought. One leans down slightly to throw his arm around Damian’s shoulder and says, “What a coincidence running into you baby bird, I didn’t know you like grocery stores.”

          Damian just scowls and says, “Remove your arm from my space, before I do it for you, Todd!”

          The man now labeled Todd just grins a bit more, and turns his attention to you. He extends his hand and says, “Hi, I’m Jason, these two lugs beside me are Dick, and Tim. We’re Dami’s older brothers and you are?”

          You choose not to shake his hand. There’s a power play going on, and you never take sides without knowing all the facts. You move your free hand to the handle on the basket, so that both hands are occupied and say, “I’m Y/N.”

          Jason retracts his hand and just grins, and you’re fairly certain that you hear the one introduced as Tim mutter something like “smart girl” under their breath. You give him a small smile in return, before turning your attention back to Damian.

          His face has turned red, and he’s gritting his teeth, and Jason’s arm is still wrapped around him. All signs point towards a very likely blow up, and all you can think about is that time he beat up those guys at school. You need to prevent that from happening again. After all, this is your mom’s favorite grocery store, and she’d be mad for days if she got some sort of lifetime ban.

          Without another thought you reach over, wrap you hand around Damian’s upper arm, and pull. He stumbles a bit, and you steady him in front of you. His face become a little less red, as the two of you hold eye contact for several moments, and then your hand sneaks out and pokes him in the side.

          Despite the fact that he’s fourteen, he has a lot of muscle. More than once you’ve moved to poke him, only to come back with a hurt finger and a trademarked Damian Wayne smirk. Then one marvelous day, you happened to hit this one little squishy part, and it was like the sun shone, and the birds sang. You’re not able to hit it often but when you do, it makes both of you smile.

          He grins a bit as he catches your hand on its way back, he holds it in the air for a minute and then his own hand, fast as lightning strikes you right in the side. You let out this little squeal, and start trying to pry your hand loose, all while swearing revenge. Damian just smiles and says, “I’d like to see you try.”

          You only calm down when you notice his brothers staring at you with shocked faces. You and Damian just kind of stare at them for a minute before you say, “I think we broke them.”

          Damian shrugs and says, “I’m okay with that, let’s go find your family and get out of here before they come to.”

          You smile as he leads you away by the hand, and can’t help but think that his brothers are a bit batty too. They are however good looking, which means, “It might be a good idea to keep them away from my sisters, the flirting would drive us both insane.”

          Damian just nods and says, “Agreed.”

          Damian goes home that night, and when you see him at school on Monday he looks like he’s just lost his best friend. And with you being his best friend, that’s not exactly a good thing. When you ask what’s he simply says, “My father wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow.”  You just sigh, your best friend is such a drama king.

Queen Ambassador (Chapter 1)

Your name was Sophia, and you had no idea how you ended up in this mess.

You came from a small town in New Jersey, near the shore but not near enough to be surrounded by homes that were reserved only for summer vacations. You considered yourself average, as far as people go, so the fact that you’d just been ‘abducted’ by aliens was more than shocking to you. Sure, you knew Earth had established connections with other lifeforms, it had been all over the news when NASA made contact with some aliens who had been traveling around in search for allies in some intergalactic war they were facing, but you never thought that you’d suddenly be swept up from your home to act as ambassador for the human race. You were barely qualified, as far as you were concerned.

That’s not what they thought, though. Most of the world’s governments had been negotiating peace with these foreign beings for quite some time, but in order for Earth to be seen as a proper ally to their new friends, a human was meant to come with them. Many had offered themselves up, but the alien’s leader refused. They demanded they pick out someone themselves, only this way could they make sure the ambassador was fit for the job they needed them to do.

You’d been in school when the aliens came. Under orders of the government, your school orchestrated an assembly for all of those turning who were or were turning 18 within the next 6 months. The aliens wanted someone young and willing to learn, but not so young that they’d be immature. They’d also mentioned they were looking for someone with strength, for the job of being an ambassador was not easy. The idea of space travel was more than enough to keep you interested in their investigations, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to leave Earth. You were almost out of high school, you’d been accepted into a college already, and you were looking forward to building your own future. The fear of not being able to live a normal, happy life was the only thing holding you back from outright saying you were interested in the position…but then again, you didn’t think you’d be picked in the first place, do you didn’t worry much.

That was, until the actual assembly. You sat in your chair, trying to keep your cool as your principle introduced the leader of the aliens you’d heard so much about. You couldn’t hold back the gasp that went through you when you actually saw him, though.

He was huge, and barely humanoid. He resembled something like a centaur, if a centaur’s lower half was made of a 6 legged insect. His skin was a darkish green color, with silver-grey eyes and dark black hair to match. You could also knew he bore insect-like wings on his back thanks to the internet, but they were currently hidden under some very intricate clothes he wore. Much of his attire was made up of darker green and blue colors, accented by silver jewelry and a simple crown-like band to match on his forehead. Not only was he stunning, but he was very, very intimidating.

“….Friends, my name is Orotorco, 9th leader of the planet you call ‘Spade 8H2’.” His voice, while deep and booming, was obviously not used to using English. He had problems pronouncing his own planet name, and was having even more trouble trying to seem welcoming. You sensed he wasn’t trying to be threatening, and something in you relaxed. If he was making a genuine effort to be kind, you doubt he could be that bad of a person.

“As your principle just said, me and my kin are on a hunt for a representative for your kind. Only when one is found, can our alliance be made strong. We have worked in tandem with your kind to find someone suitable, and we have concluded that someone from this area would best for the job.” He explained, “My daughter, the next ruler of my planet will decide who comes with us, for she will be the one you will have to work with every step of the way.”

Your eyes drifted to the side of the stage as another alien stepped into view. Much like her father, she was large and spider-like, but she was bluer in color and sported some short, pointed horns from her forehead. She wore blue and purple clothing with white accents, much more simple than her father’s attire. You were far away from the stage, so you couldn’t see it clearly, but you’re sure you saw silver rings around her neck, establishing her role as royalty.

She came to the microphone, her voice just as uncertain as her father’s when it came to speaking English. “My name is Uros, next leader-to-be. I will be assessing potential representatives based off of poise, strength, grace, and talent. I hope you don’t mind me asking questions throughout this process.”

You won’t lie, her voice was like honey to you. While it was clear she was nervous, you felt something warm blossom in your stomach as she gazed over the crowd. It was clear you weren’t the only one, however, many seemed more at ease after she showed up.

After a few more words of encouragement and explanation, your principle dismissed you back to your classes. Uros would be drifting between classes, observing how students worked and questioning those who she thought would fit. It was almost the end of the school-day when she entered your math class. You held your breath as she made her way over to your desk, starring curiously at your paper. You felt embarrassed, to say the least, since your worksheet was barely finished. Instead, it was filled with doodles, making your paper seem messy.

“What are these?” She asked, her voice filled with an innocent curiosity.

“They’re…um, doodles. I’m bored, so I decided to draw instead.” You replied. You were sure you were beet red, too afraid to look her in the eye.

She hummed contemplatively. “Are you allowed to doodle on your papers?”

“Well…not exactly. It’s not encouraged.”

“I see…” Uros seemed to be deep in thought. “Come with me for a second.”

Your head shot up. “Huh?”

“I want to ask you some more questions, but I don’t want to stall your class. Won’t you follow me?” She elaborated, looking slightly worried.

“…Sure, that’s ok, I think.” You followed her out of the classroom, where somebody else waited. You could only assume they were a bodyguard, since they were covered in dark grey-black robes and holding something resembling a spear. Once the door was closed, she began asking more questions.

“What’s your name, human?”

“Sophia.”

“Did you chose that yourself?”

“No, my parents did.”

“Oh, how odd.” She seemed to lean closer, checking out your facial features. “Usually around the age of 3, my kind picks their own names. We’re born nameless.”

You could only nod as a cool hand tilted your head to the side, then traced your jaw. You did your best not to seem uncomfortable, but Uros seemed to notice anyway.

“You’re very stiff. Are you ok?”

Your tongue felt thick, her eyes filled with concern. “Y-yeah, sorry. Not used to this kind of thing.”

“I guess not.” She replied, “Tell me, how much do you like your life here on Earth?”

“It’s…ok. I have a family that cares and good enough grades to get me a good job. I don’t really have a lot of friends, but other people like me enough to talk to me. I’m not unhappy with it.”

“It sounds peaceful here.”

“Compared to other places, yeah. It can be boring, though.”

That seemed to startle her, for some reason. “Boring?”

You shrugged, “Yeah. I like it here, it’s nice and I’m never in danger, but there’s nothing to do. We have the beach and sometimes new people pass through, but it’s not like anything really cool is going on. Unless you count the fact that you guys decided to show up.”

Uros seemed perplexed by this, unsure what to say. The final bell rang out in the halls, releasing students from their classes. You were about to turn around when she called out your name.

“Sophia”

“Hm?”

“When you get home, pack what you need to travel on a long journey. I’m picking you to be the human representative.”

“Wait, What??”

You didn’t get the time to ask any questions, though. Before you knew it, she was gone, and you were being pushed to the front of the school by the oncoming stamped of students, rushing to get home.

Telling your parents was difficult. You were an only child, and your parents were very scared of losing you. It got even worse when a government agent swung by to give you a list of things to pack, as well as some other items you couldn’t normally buy without some sort of clearance. These items included a gun, a handbook about intergalactic politics (for dummies!), a small list of emergency numbers that would get you in contact with NASA over long distances, and a phone that was specifically made for your position. A regular phone wouldn’t function once off the Earth, so this one was built just with high-tech modifications so it would last. Despite this, it looked practically normal, a lot like an IPhone, in fact.

It wasn’t long after that Uros and Orotorco came to pick you up. Orotorco seemed genuinely sorry for your parents, trying to comfort them by assuring them you’d be well taken care of. You watched numbly as some bodyguards carried out your luggage, all of them in a unifying black uniform. You only snapped out of your dazed state when you felt that familiar cool hand on your back, Uros looking at you with worry.

“This won’t be forever…right? I can come back to visit?”

She nodded, “Yes, you’re not our prisoner or anything. You’re free to return here when your duties don’t keep you from doing so.”

When it was finally time to go, you gave your parents a final parting goodbye and followed Uros onto a small ship of sorts. You felt tears well up as you looked out the window during takeoff, your mother curled into your father’s chest with grief.

You simply could not believe this was happening.

Orotorco’s booming voice caught your attention, seeming to sense your sadness.

“Sophia, is it?” He asked, “I promise we will do everything we can to make you feel at home here. You’re our only hope.”

“Why, though?” You asked back, “Why not someone else, like an actual diplomat.”

Orotorco just sighed. “It’s complicated, you see. It has to do a lot with physical makeup, as well as personality and upbringing. We couldn’t pick anyone. It seems out of all of the people Uros surveyed, you were the only one who met the standards we need in a representative.”

Your mind took this all in slowly. Was it really that specific?

“….Ok, so what do I have to do, exactly?”

“Right! I completely forgot to tell you about that, didn’t I? Me and my kin only chose one ally per generation, so this is a very sought out position by many other species of alien.” He explained, seeming a bit more cheerful. “You will speak on behalf of your planet when working with us, and when the time is right, you will help bring the next generation of my kin into the world.”

You paused for a minute. “Wait, back up. What does that last part mean? ‘Bring the next generation of kin into the world’?”

Orotorco seemed confused, “Ambassadors usually bear children for royalty on my planet. Is it not the same on Earth?”

“No, not at all!” You said, alarm clear in your voice. “Where did that come from?”

“A government agent you spoke to was supposed to brief you on this…I’m afraid there may have been a miscommunication.”

Your head spun as you thought about it. You didn’t want kids! Who was even going to be the father? How was this going to work? They were bug-like and huge in comparison to you…

“Who….Who is my partner.”

Uros spoke up in her usual honey-like voice, seeming a bit embarrassed herself.

“Me.”

It was too much. Without as much as a second thought, you fell over, your world going dark in a matter of seconds as both Uros and Orotorco called out to you. The last thing you remember is cool hands supporting your body, begging you to stay awake.

(Chapter 1- End)

——
(Hey! My name is O, and this is my first fic being submitted here. This is defiantly going to be multi-chapter, but I promise there will be some good pregnancy/oviposition shit going on up in here! Next chapter should come out soon, I’m a pretty quick writer.

My NSFW blog is or-beez, but its pretty empty rn. Feel free to hmu there if you want though!

Tag, You're Not it!

I had a guy come in to my store tonight (a large one-stop-shopping one) and with his wife and kid present, switched the tags on pieces of clothing and move shoes out of their boxes into clearance item boxes. One of the apparel workers had already warned me about him ahead of time, and I warned my cashiers about him (make sure to check the shoes against the boxes!) When my cashier noticed a tag for a clearance polo on a pair of shorts, he called me to come check things out. There were multiple other pieces of clothing with changed tags on them, and every single box of shoes had the wrong shoes in them. The man kept trying to talk around me “I just found them like this!” “These were all in clearance so I just grabbed them!” And I was getting really tired of feigning stupidity as to why the tags and boxes were wrong so I called our MOD.

She found more tags that had been switched, and walked with the man to the area the he “found” the items. All the while playing the same runaround game with the man that I had been forced to play. He toted about how he thought we were honest people working at this store and he should have to right to pay for the items with the obviously wrong tags (I’m talking Nike shoes in a box for cheaper dress shoes of the wrong size, and shorts with tags for a women’s brand of blouses)

In the end she denied his transaction, and took his items to our loss prevention office to be reviewed (who were unfortunately gone for the night) when they came in next. They stole some water and a bag of cookies before they left and had me shaking in barely contained rage. I hope karma bites this man in the ass.

Day Seventy-One

-I found myself watching a man who was trying with every fiber of his being to pass as a country star. Sadly, his best efforts were in vain, as he simply looked like a hairy tool.

-In honor of Christmas Eve Eve, I wore jingle bell suspenders. This look was phenomenal, and the comedic value made the shortcomings worthwhile. The shortcomings being, of course, that if I bent forward to far, the back would come unsnapped and spring up to hit me in the back of the head.

-A woman in her fifties came through with a nice dress, asking if it was on clearance. Upon being told that it wasn’t, she looked at it for a moment, then said, “I’ll take it anyway. I love it.” I am beyond thrilled that the Treat Yourself mentality knows no age limits.

-A man got a coupon for beef jerky with his purchase of the same. Rather than saving it for his next purchase, he immediately turned around and hung it on the rack of jerky for the next fortunate guest to find. This is one of the largest and most inspiring acts of kindness I have ever been witness to.

-With no prompting, an old man began to tell me all about how easy men were, how they don’t use coupons or discounts, how they pay with a credit card and are done, unlike women with all their frills and wastes of time. “You’ve got a point,” I conceded. “Saving money sure is a feminine thing.” I then watched him struggle for an entire four minutes to figure out how to use his simple credit card.

-A woman came through having raided the clearance racks. She did not take every item she brought, though. She interrogated me to find the full prices of each item, caring not for the lowest sale price but for the largest original. With a system that doesn’t allow for returns of clearance items to get more than clearance price, I do not know her reasoning for this focus, and yet, I feel a deep sense of understanding.

-Trying to find the source of a series of crashes I was hearing, I found a woman in her nineties running her motorized cart into registers and shelves all around her. Expecting to see her mortified, or at the very least too angry to care, I was shocked to see her laughing to herself, having the time of her life. I can see myself in her shoes in the future and I look forward eagerly to reaching that point.

-A woman was outraged with me when, upon handing me her bags which she had emptied of items, I placed them the counter rather than force her crumpled plastic on the next guest. She claimed to be caring about the environment, but as I even explained that the bin was for recycling, clearly she had a deep rivalry with the next guest and wanted to refuse them the joy of a crisp and clean shopping bag.

-“These are my favorite bandaids,” a woman told me, in a haughty tone I thought unachievable with such a thick southern accent. “No really, they are. I do so love those Minions.” Placing the large boxes of Minions bandages in the bag, I found a sense of clarity about how the nation got to where it is today.

TalesFromRetail: Best kid ever

On mobile so no biting

A women and her son comes into (large retail store) were I work at and immediately asks me were the clearance section is, when I point her to it her mutters a barely audible thanks.

After about 20 minutes pass they come up to my register with a pile of items ranging from food to clothes, I scan the food first and when I reach for the clothes she stops me and the following conversation takes place Cust: " How much of a discount can you give me?" Me: " Mam this is a clearance item therefore unfortunately I can not give you a discount as it has already been knocked down almost %80 of its original price" Cust: "That's absurd I come in everyday ( I have never seen her in my life) and spend hundreds each time. I deserve a further discount" Me: " Mam because I am not the manager I can't even give you the discount you want, however I will call over a manager to tell the the exact same thing." 

Manager comes over annoyed aready and makes the lady shut up and buy the items for the real price, at the end she says this charm

“I’m never coming here again, this is unacceptable!!”

The kid who has been silent this entire time says this

“Mom they are a huge company, I don’t think they will care if one customer doesn’t shop here again.”

She just goes quiet and walks out.

By: UnlawfulFoxy

Alright so I work for Trendy Plus-Size Clothing Store. TPSCS is a pretty swell place but some of our customers are fucking animals

Towards one corner of our store we have a clearance section of reduced price items, hung up by size. No one ever wants to work in the clearance section. Because it’s so close to the fitting rooms, most people waiting for a room will bum around there and being a small area it becomes high traffic VERY quickly. And when people can’t reach the stuff above them they think it’d be a great idea to

RIP
THEM
OFF
THE
HANGERS

And then when they don’t like the shirt they found they

THROW
IT
ON
THE
FLOOR

Every two or so hours we push past a bunch of people, pick up everything on the floor and re-hang it all. I’ve had to file multiple damage reports of clearance items and it is never fun. I have seen better customer neatness standards in a Value Village.

Happy Belated Valentine’s Day, Steven.

It had been a really rough week.  Five-0 had caught a case that was almost a smorgasbord of illegal acts: several homicides, extortion, ransom, drug trafficking and yet another bomb scare.  When all was said and done, they had needed to conduct a twelve hour stakeout, tail and interrogate at least five different suspects, and coordinate with SWAT and the bomb squad for the final take down.  Luckily, no one was seriously injured, but it was safe to say that they’d all been pushed to their physical, emotional and mental limits.

So when an exhausted Danny Williams stumbled into his kitchen and found a plate of heart-shaped cookies and hand-decorated cards from his children, it took him a moment to process the significance of the items.

It was February 16th.  He had completely missed Valentine’s Day.

Danny slumped into one of the chairs and scrubbed a hand across his face, debating what he should do.  What he wanted was to face plant into his bed and not move for the next ten to fifteen hours, but the romantic in him balked at the notion of ignoring the oversight.  Sure, the last few Valentine’s hadn’t exactly gone according to plan either, but that was before he and Steve had gotten together.

Following last year’s disastrous couple’s retreat with Lynn and Melissa, they’d all taken a hard look at what they had and what they truly wanted.  The girls were great, but neither he nor Steve would ever be able to give them what they deserved, not when they were so devoted and in love with one another.  The subsequent breakups were amicable, but still difficult, particularly for Danny and Melissa, who had been together for four years.  But it was for the best – Melissa was a wonderful woman, and she needed a partner that was wholly committed to her, who could say “I love you” with ease, and where both she and her significant other could be themselves, void of any relational guards.

Ironically, Melissa and Lynn had found that in each other, just as Danny and Steve did.

Two days ago should have been Steve and Danny’s first Valentine’s Day as a couple.  They hadn’t made any plans, nor had they discussed whether or not they would even celebrate it, but that didn’t stop Danny from imagining how such an evening could have gone.

He shivered and decided a cold shower was in order.

In spite of his mental wanderings, he knew he wouldn’t have the energy for such activities.  But in the end, he decided that a little gesture was better than none at all.  After said cold shower (accomplished in under five minutes – Steve would be so proud), Danny redressed in jeans and a t-shirt, packed an overnight bag, and headed to the store.  

By now, all the local shops had placed their Valentine’s items on clearance.  After some debate, Danny selected a Butterfly lei, a teddy bear dressed like a sailor (and holding a heart), a pack of Longboards and – just in case he managed to tap into his last energy reserves – some bedroom essentials.  Satisfied with his choices, he paid for the items (glaring at the smirking store clerk as she rang up the condoms), and headed over to Steve’s place.

When he arrived, he was surprised to find that Steve’s truck was not in the driveway, and all the lights were off.  He knocked a few times and called out, but there was no answer.  Danny had a spare key of course, so he let himself in.  

There were signs that Steve had been there recently – dirty dishes in the sink, and his clothes from that day were left on the bathroom floor along with a wet towel, but the SEAL was nowhere to be found.

Worry and dread began to creep in, but was quickly laid to rest when his cell phone rang, the screen flashing his partner’s name.

“Steve… are you okay?  Where are you right now?”

“I was about to ask you that.  I’m at your place.”

“I’m at yours.”

Silence fell for a few beats.  

“I forgot about Valentine’s Day.  I came over to surprise you,” Steve explained.

Danny laughed and shook his head.  “Same here.  Honestly, the one time we’re both on the same page…”

“That’s why we’re perfect together, babe,” Steve interrupted.  “Stay there.  I’ll be back soon.”

“Sounds good.  I’ll be waiting for you.”

His fears alleviated, Danny put the Longboards in the refrigerator and left the rest of his purchases on the kitchen island.  Then he went to the living room, found a local football game on T.V. and made himself comfortable on the couch.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, there were soft lips pressed against his.  He opened his eyes to find his partner’s hazel eyes staring down at him, affectionate but tired.

“Mmm… hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Steve whispered.  “Sorry for waking you.”

“S’okay.”  Danny sat up and wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him back in for a deeper kiss.  Steve’s hands drifted to explore Danny’s lower back, urging him closer.

As sweet as it was, it didn’t last long.  Steve pulled back and released a huge yawn.

Danny quirked a brow.  “I’m sorry, am I boring you?” he joked.

Steve looked abashed, but tried to hide it by resting his forehead against Danny’s.  “Sorry.  It’s not you.  I’m just so tired.”

“Me too,” Danny admitted.  “We haven’t slept much over the last forty-eight hours.  Let’s get some rest.  We can pick this back up again later.”

“Okay,” Steve murmured, sounding half asleep already.  

Rather than head up to the bedroom, Danny laid back down on the couch, coaxing Steve to follow.  It took some arranging, but eventually, they settled into a snug position – Danny lying on his back and Steve partially on top of him, arms and legs entangled.  

Steve pillowed his head on Danny’s chest and yawned again.  “Love you, Danno,” he said.

“Love you too.  Happy belated Valentine’s Day, Steven.”

Within minutes, they were both sound asleep.  They were together – safe, content and happy.  That alone made it the best Valentine’s Day either had ever had, even if it was a few days late.

Day Forty-Two

-A woman brought up two items, one she wanted, one for price-comparison. I am used to this. However, she insisted I give her the lower-priced item for the higher cost. I think I see where she is coming from, but this is not the place for oneupmanship. 

-I will never forget the advice that one elderly woman gave another in regards to buying clearance Halloween items. Whenever I am making a decision, her voice will echo in my head, whispering, “do it, because of YOLO.”

-I was asked to double bag $80 of Halloween decorations in the largest bags we had in stock so that a woman in her sixties would be able to hide them from her husband in the car. For my next heist, I will undoubtedly be in contact with her to plan our seamless getaway.

-A kindly, sweet man in his seventies paid for his purchase with money from a large, studded, jet-black, leather chain wallet. This man keeps Hot Topic afloat.

-A man sat on my register, setting the example for two other men to sit on adjacent registers. The trendsetter remarked, “Why stand like a chump when you can sit?” My response was almost to suggest manners as a reason, but then I realized I would be playing directly into his hands and revealing my true nature as a chump.

-I was informed by a guest that, due to the fact that the counters on the registers were just slightly taller than the carts, I was guaranteed to be a VP someday. He told me that it could be for Nickelodeon, or possibly the Bahamas, but the where does not matter when this man has so much faith in me.

-Making faces at a baby strapped to their mother’s chest resulted in the infant excitedly jumping up and down as much as one can when confined to a living straightjacket. Despite all of the fun that young one was having, the warden was having none of it.

-Entering the store, a man threw his arms out and shouted, “Hello, Target,” and I aspire to take after this man and star in my own movie at every minute.

-I asked a man if he wanted me to bag his bottle of Mountain Dew. He looked at it intensely and told me not to, as he had plans for it. I hope beyond hope that his plans involved drinking it.

anonymous asked:

Ma'am I'm sorry that the clearance item you wanted was out of stock. Ma'am my device says that only one other store in the area has any more and I just called them for you, they are also out. Ma'am I'm sorry but I'm really out of stock, the mythical back room of which you speak that totally has hundreds of your item doesn't exist.

There’s a reason it’s on clearance. First come first serve. -Abby

space-and-sass  asked:

Do you have any tips on DIY chew stim toys? I cant afford to buy any

Absolutely! I’ll also include a few cheap chew stim toys at the end that don’t involve purchasing online and paying shipping, just in case it’s easier to buy those as opposed to buying materials, but I’ll also talk about ways to do the DIYs that, hopefully, don’t involve buying anything.

Firstly, the DIYs. There’s two ways to go about it, cloth or silicone. I’ve mentioned the cloth DIYs before on this post and I’ll quote my comment below:

There’s a no-sew necklace tutorial here at Hdydi and a slightly-more-complicated (but nicer-looking) bangle tutorial here at Craftaholics Anonymous. (The bangle does require a little sewing, but it can be done via hand or machine.) Both use cut-up T-shirts or T-shirt material. There’s also a tutorial here at Lemon Lime Adventures for a version using wooden beads.

The Hdydi tute involves only the ability to cut up an old T-shirt into strips, braid it and knot it into a loop that can be a necklace or bracelet. It’s super easy as DIYs go if you can braid and knot (I’m aware that not all disabled people can manage even the super easy DIYs). If you want to turn it into a necklace, you may need to sew two strips together at the ends - a running stitch will do the job - in order to have length long enough that you can pull the braid over your head.

The Craftaholics Anonymous tute requires scrap fabric (again, you can cut up an old T-shirt). Instead of knotting the end of the braid, they’re sewn across (again, a running stitch will work just fine) the ends to finish them. The two sewn ends are then sewn to each other to form a bracelet, providing a neater finish.

If you’re making bracelets, you’ll want material with a little stretch: most cheap T-shirts are made from polyester. This will be fine. If your material doesn’t stretch at all, keep your braid a little loose or make the bracelet a little larger than needed - this gives you more play in the fabric to pull it over your hand.

These braids could easily be turned into keychain attachments or zip pulls, for those who want something chewable but don’t necessarily wish to wear them!

(For both of these tutorials, you need an old T-shirt and scissors. For the second, a needle and thread. If you need to borrow these from someone and don’t want to explain what you’re doing, just say you’re mending a tear in your own clothing.)

The Lemon Lime Adventures tute uses socks, shoelaces and wooden beads. The beads can be omitted if you don’t have them - just tie more knots in the socks. This might be an option for those who can’t/don’t wish to sew.

(If the bead is going in your mouth, don’t use painted or dyed ones. Plain, unpainted, undyed, unvarnished, untreated ones are safest.)

Other options for fabric chewing involve buying thick, soft woven fabric cord - think the kind used for hoodie strings, which I’ve seen in many a dollar shop craft section - and tying knots in it before knotting the ends in a loop to make a bracelet or necklace. You may even have an old hoodie from which you can acquire the strings! Shoelaces, likewise, especially the thick ones. These probably won’t last as long as the Lemon Lime Adventures version, but they’re easily replaced.

(I’d wash everything mentioned above thoroughly before using, even if it’s new: you don’t want dye leeching from the cloth into your mouth.)

The silicone DIY method involves getting a silicone pot holder or some other silicone kitchen object, cutting it up and using it as a handheld chewable or putting a hole in it and stringing it on a cord (even a shoelace) for chewellery. (There are so many silicone kitchen items these days: you could look at the bottom part of a spatula, the edge of a baking tray, a shaped part from an ice tray or chocolate mould … whatever you think works.) Now, finding something silicone and thick will be the hardest part, as most of these things are pretty thin, and I think even a moderate chewer might go through these pretty quickly.

(I’ll stress here that I do not know what degree of food-safe some of these items may be. If it’s designed to hold food or have a lot of contact with food, I’d think it’d be pretty safe; if it’s not designed to have contact with food, it may be questionable.)

Lastly, I’ve found relatively inexpensive plastic and silicone teethers in stores like K-Mart and The Reject Shop. (I’ve posted about them here and here.) These are probably far better for tougher chewers, especially the silicone ones as they’re quite thick and sturdy, and may be worth the investment. I don’t know where you’re located, so I don’t know what stores to suggest, but I’d try looking at the better discount stores - the ones that stock cheap and clearanced brand-name items - and cheap department stores. From the right store, teethers aren’t expensive. The silicone ones I found are pretty cute (clearancing at $1 AUD!) and aren’t that different from the handheld chewables sold on Stimtastic. I say this because it may be as cheap to buy a silicone teether as it is to buy a silicone pot holder for DIY.

I hope this gives you some ideas. Followers, please feel welcome to add!

anonymous asked:

Customer: Do you work here? Me, behind the register, wearing a vest, name tag, and earpiece, holding a scanner and a sticker gun, tagging clearance items and ringing people out. : No, I don't. I just love retail so much that I dress up as an employee for kicks. I can understand if it's someone in the isles or if the store doesn't have a uniform or something but seriously people! If someone is at the registers I promise they work there!!!

Witch supplies you are meant to have...

Sometimes things that you are meant to have just find you. For example -

Garage sale witch finds - 

  • small cast iron skillet for incense burning and non-food spells - $4
  • small crock pot (like fondue size) for infusing oils ~ $2
  • my first bag of tarot cards since I became a witch plus an incense burner and incense - $1
  • tall book shelf for my first magic altar, religious altar and witch storage - free on the side of the road
  • large cast iron skillet my mom found for magical and mundane recipes - free from my mom
  • bar/side board that i put my kitchen altar on - free on side of road

Store witch items like Pier 1, Target, Goodwill, Home Goods and candle shops - 

  • all my tea lights, pillar candles, taper candles, and votive candles - less than $5 for packs and individual candles
  • candle holders on clearance items, from the dollar store, or at the goodwill - less than $5
  • decorative items for altars and magical spaces around the house
  • “altar cloths”
  • witch balls

all these items have been under or around $5

What sort of witch supplies just seemed to fall into your laps?

An angry customer makes a fool of herself.

(warning: long story)

This happened about 10 years ago. It was a few days after Christmas, and I’d been sent out to repair some equipment at a Kmart store. The job went well, and I’d already loaded my truck, and cleaned up. All I had left to do was get a managers signature on my paperwork. I stopped at the customer service desk and asked for him to be paged, then waited for him to show up. I was still standing there with my clip board, not really paying attention to much of anything, when this little old lady walks in the door, noticed my uniform and started heading my way.

I should backtrack here and mention a couple of things. The first, being my employer had changed our uniforms about 6 months earlier to a design that made me look like an assistant manager at every single store I set foot in. People were always stopping me, asking where things were, or something similar. I even had people stop me at a fast food chain on my lunch break to complain about something or other. I wasn’t really annoyed by it. Most of the time I thought it was funny.

The second thing I need to mention is, while you can’t judge a book by it’s cover, you can sometimes tell a lot about a person by their face. The little old lady in this story was no exception. Her face looked like the last smile that had graced it, had been sometime during the Eisenhower administration.

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