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Mall trip with http://evileli.tumblr.com/!! He’s such a bamf, he bought his first khaki cargo shorts, what a g, right??

Also we went to Claire’s and played with bows and flower crowns. We run this place. Going back once I get another paycheck. Way too many headbands to get!

It was a really nice trip, brought me out of a bad funk. We popped in at Charming Charlies, Burgatory, Rue 21, Payless, H&M~ at Ulta I got the lady to show me how to contour, so hopefully that will be showing up more. It’s pretty clear in the last pic… My goal with makeup is to have someone ask if the beard is drawn on :P

Please fire me.  I think we all know working retail sucks, with rude customers and high expectations when you’re just one person.  But when you’re desperate enough to work at Dollar Tree of all places, you know it’s bad.  (And yes, you “funny” customer, everything IS INDEED a fucking dollar.)

My job description is basically “cashier first, stocker second”.  But apparently no one told me I was also a janitor, a babysitter, a shrink, and the brains behind the manager who can’t think for himself half the time.  Okay fine, I’ll clean up your crap that you’re too lazy to put back in its original spot that’s two feet away from you.  Fine, I’ll watch your kid for a moment if you need to use the restroom.  I’ll listen if you really want to tell me about the shitty day you’ve been having prior to coming to my register.  Okay manager, I’ll handle the customer for a few minutes while you back me up on the register.

However, if you’re going to take all the shit from the party aisle and shove it into the empty cavity on the shelf specifically made for bread, get out of my store.  If your child won’t listen to me after I’ve told them 4 times to stop pulling the balloons out of the corral, you need to put your child on a leash.  If you’re going to blame me for your shitty day and take all your frustration out on me, then I WILL make myself the reason you’re not in control of your own damn life.  And manager, for the love of whatever you believe in, do your fucking job as a manager and not talk to your wife about moving to Florida in *certain time frame*; stop bullshitting on the side-lines and help me on the register when I need it.

Don’t argue with me over something coming out to $1.06 because you didn’t think to bring change with you for tax.  Don’t argue with me when I say we only do exchanges and that I am not authorized to do full refunds.  And especially don’t argue with me when your card declines and you don’t carry cash.

And I swear, if you come into my store, and I have a small line of two people, and you want a new line to open because you woke up late for work and you’re too damn impatient to purchase a single bottle of water, I will gladly step away from my register to hand you an application so you can ring up your own fucking water, you impatient, sweaty, suit-and-tie dickweed.