Public Restroom Decorum

I can think of nothing that tempts to punch strangers in the face harder than encounters in a public restroom. I mean, goddamn, people are disgusting and obnoxious.

First off, I think it should be illegal to not wash your hands after using the restroom. I think this should be regarded an act of bioterrorism. Because seriously, what do you call it when someone rubs biohazardous substances with a thin sheet of paper with their bare hands then walks around touching common surfaces, spreading the biohazard all over? Seriously, Mandy Patinkin, get on this shit.

A lot of people realize that things in the loo are disgusting. The paper towel dispenser is not an exception to this. Different people have different tactics for getting their paper towel without resoiling their freshly washed hands. I, for example, use the lever on the dispenser to roll about two inches of towel out, wash my hands, rip off that short bit of towel, use it to dispense some more towel, throw out the first bit, dry my hands on the second portion of towel, turn off the sink with the towel, use said towel to open the door, then throw the towel in the trash. Sound pedantic? I'm actually skipping steps. I should dispense, wash, dispense, dry, dispense, turn off sink, dispense, open door.

So, here's the silly set up in the ladies room at work. There are two sinks. One sink has these lovely, long handles that you turn on and then, gasp, turn off when you're done. We'll call this Good Sink. The other is one of those monstrosities that you push the handle down on and it pops up whenever it damn well feels like it, so you have to keep turning the water on. And if you're OCD like me, that's fucking horrible, because you can't adequately wash your hands when you have to keep touching a dirty sink handle. Good Sink is on the right. Horrible Bacteria Time Loop Disaster in on the right. Next to the paper towel dispenser. So, here's a common scenario. I pop into the washroom to wash my hands, roll down the two inches of towel, start washing my hands. Some nasty, dirty person comes out of the stall, goes to HBTLD, splashes some cold water on her hands, takes my towel, and leaves without rolling more down for me. Or nasty, dirty person comes out, splashes cold water on her hands, then stands directly in front of the paper towel dispenser, poking at her eye makeup with her unclean hands, essentially just rubbing her ass all over the clean bit of towel I have hanging down. Incorrect Behavior. Correct Behavior: Step out of the stall, see somebody washing her hands, with a bit of paper towel hanging down from the dispenser. Common sense dictates that she's going to use that bit of paper towel to dispense more towel in a quasi-sanitary method. The woman in front of you was already washing her hands, so logic dictates she's probably almost done. Stand the fuck back, wait your goddamn turn, and don't touch her stuff. It's already awkward enough that you and this stranger were likely peeing at the same time, four feet apart. Don't impede her hand washing. Or, say she is particularly obsessive-compulsive and is taking five minutes to wash her hands instead of one. Hop onto HBTLD, wash your hands, use the towel, and ADVANCE MORE FUCKING TOWEL.

If you happen to be the person washing your hands whilst somebody is behind you waiting, leave the water running for them. It saves you having to figure out how to touch that disgusting faucet and acknowledges the other person's welcomeness to join in the fun that is handwashing.

Sometimes, people accidentally get some urine on the seat. There is a quite simple solution to this problem. Take a piece of toilet paper, and wipe the seat! When you piss all over the place and don't bother to clean up, you're basically just screaming "I'm disgusting!" And seriously, fuck you, disgusting people. I would hate to step foot in your home if you're so lazy and gross you can't even wipe up something that came out of your body. How fucking dare you suggest that somebody else clean up your bodily fluids? Pig bitch.

Ladies, your period sucks. I've been there; I get it. However, the situation sucking does not make it okay for you not to dispose of crap covered in your blood in an improper fashion. Yes, I'm not a moron. I do know it's not really blood. But I don't want to repeatedly type "Discharged uterine lining" so fucking deal. So, let's go over a list of gross stuff nobody should ever see in a public restroom:
-A tampon on the floor
- A pad that somebody has attempted to flush down the toilet
-A pad on the floor
-A pad/tampon sitting ON TOP of the trash can in the stall
-Blood. Anywhere. Ever.
-A pad/tampon sitting on top of the toilet paper dispenser
-A bloody pad/tampon in the trashcan, but unwrapped and at the top of the trashcan, so there's no possible way to put anything else in it or even change the liner without an extreme likelihood of touching some strange cunt's blood.
The proper response to the unfortunate situation of having to change your feminine hygiene materials in a public restroom are to remove it, wrap it in either toilet paper or a wrapper, and place it in the trashcan. Assuming the trash can has a hinged lid, close the trash can. Then wash your hands.

It's like kindergarten. Pick up after yourself, be considerate of others, and wash your fucking hands.

I Would Have Bit Her in the Face, Too

Several years ago, I worked as a bather in the grooming salon at an inexplicably popular pet supply store. My first day there, the idiot girl training me told me that she will never work on pit bulls. Ever. I asked her why, and she told me that she had been attacked by a pit bull at work. I asked, "Well, what did you do to the dog?" half-joking. Holy shit, did she fuck up.

This girl, who I'll call Megan, was a bather. She took a pit bull into the back to bathe it. As will happen when you tie up a dog and spray water at it, the dog got scared. This dog broke the grooming loop (it's like a short leash that exists for the purpose of keeping the dog tethered to the grooming station), and, being scared, ran and hid under one of the elevated tubs that small dogs are bathed in. This stupid bitch got down on her hands and knees, stuck her face in the dog's face, then grabbed the dog's front legs and pulled it out from under the sink. Of fucking course it bit her. It doesn't have shit to do with what type of dog it was. I would have bit her if I'd been in the dog's place. When she told me this, I literally looked her in the face and said "You're a fucking moron; I want a different trainer."

I hope I don't need to explain to anybody why this was so stupid and why this girl was absolutely, one hundred percent at fault for this dog attacking her. If anybody needs clarification, leave me a note in the comments and I can elaborate. Basically what it boils down to is a small creature was scared, escaped from one form of perceived attack, then was pursued and attacked again and OF COURSE it defended itself.

The cherry on top of the idiot sundae? The moron was off from work on medical leave after she attacked this scared dog (which is fair, I suppose). Not only was she not terminated for attacking this dog and exhibiting overall poor judgment, when she returned from medical leave, she was promoted. The company promoted her because they were afraid she would sue for her own pathetic lack of judgment and stupid actions.

Not related to Megan's particular brand of stupid, but this also infuriates me, so I'll tag it on. One of the managers was believed to be homosexual. He was fired. The overall environment became extremely hostile against me when a good friend - who is flamboyantly gay - popped in to say hello one day. I thought this was just the store I worked at and that the individual store manager was an intolerant, discriminatory asshole. I have since met somebody who worked at another store, several hours away from where I worked. She was fired when it was discovered she was in a romantic relationship with another woman. She successfully sued. They did not reinstate her or promote her to make that lawsuit go away. That type of special treatment was reserved for dumb bitches who assault the dogs in the salon.

I won't name this particular company, but I will say I will not take my dog there for any grooming services. I will not allow them to cut his nails. They will not bathe him. No ear cleaning. No teeth cleaning. We go to PetCo for his nails (I do everything else at home). Shortly after I left that company, I went in to buy my dog a brush while it was on a super sale. The managers were rude to me, in my capacity as a customer. I did not buy the brush and have not purchased anything from that company since.

*EDIT* For some reason, I'm having difficulties replying to comments. So I wanted to address El Zacho's comment and point out that it's a "Simpsons" quote, not a true story. :-)

Thanks for Your Commentary on my Weight, Random Stranger. Bitch.

I needed help moving my old couch down three flights of stairs yesterday, so I bribed a friend with a homemade lasagne. This resulted in a hectic trip to the grocery store to purchase the items needed for a homemade lasagne. This is a 24 hour store, so I usually manage to avoid the busy hours and go around midnight. However, last minute need for lasagne items meant pre-evening trip to the grocery store.

So, I'm walking my fat ass around the grocery store, gathering the necessities for lasagne. In the pasta aisle, a woman approaches me and asks "Can I interest in a coupon for a free weight-loss smoothie?"

Now, I'm not as off-the-wall, screamy and aggressive as this blog may make me seem. So all I said was, "No, thanks, I'm good." But I was so mad about it, I honestly was hoping she would ask me again so I could feel justified in screaming at her. Some of the thoughts that went through my head are as follows:

Yeah, bitch, that's why I'm purchasing carbs and milk fat. Cause I want to lose weight. Clearly my concern with my weight is showing and I am obviously your key demographic.

Oh, I see you have A cup breasts. Can I interest you in a coupon for a push-up bra? You know, your ears stick out quite a bit. One of my co-workers is married to a plastic surgeon. Would you like his card? No? What? Is this rude? Is it rude of me to tell a stranger "There are things about your body that I personally find less than desirable; you should go change them"?

Or maybe just a solid "Wow, it's really rude for you to approach me with your stupid shit while I'm shopping. If I was interested in your bullshit rip-off products, I would do a Google search and find your company on my own. But thank you for judging me. You're sure to not alienate people by deliberately offending them. Piss off."

Or possibly just a silent face slap.

Terminable Offense? I Don't Care!

I once had a job that involved working in an area with lots of caustic and toxic chemicals. Through various federal regulations regarding health and safety, it is a violation to have consumables in the area where we used these chemicals. The area is pretty clearly defined. Most of the store has off-white floor tiling. The "No Consumables Beyond This Point" area has black flooring. Shall I break this down further? Don't take anything meant to be put in your mouth onto the black flooring. No drinks, no food. Simple, yes? This means we cannot take consumable merchandise over that threshold, nor can we take personal food or beverage over that threshold.

I had been finding drinks back in the No-Food-or-Drinks area on occasion. Mistakes get made, so I just mentioned it to the folks in my department. "Hey, I don't think it's anybody in the department" (even though I fucking know it is) "but don't let anybody take their stuff back here." 

So, one day, my relief, who we'll call Andrew, came strolling in, a few minutes late, with an iced coffee. Now, I'm a caffeine addict. I like drinking things. And I don't like wasting money. So I would never tell somebody "Hey, throw out that delicious-looking beverage that you clearly just spent a nice little chunk of money on. No caffeine for you today." If somebody tucked a drink under their register, I would, and still do, turn a blind eye (assuming it's not alcoholic, of course). But I'm not going to ignore and allow things to happen that can levy a $25K fine. Oh, yes, folks, you read that right. Twenty-five thousand dollars for taking food or beverage into this area. So I said, "Hey, Andrew, don't take that back there."

"Whatever." And kept going.

"No, seriously. That's a huge OSHA violation. I don't care at all if you leave it by this register, but please don't take it back there."

"Meh."

"Seriously. If the health inspector were to walk in and see that, it would be a $25K fine. And as your friend, I'm telling you that I don't think our boss would let somebody keep their job after earning the store that type of fine. Or being found risking that type of fine."

"Yeah...I don't care."

So, you just flat-out told your supervisor you don't care if you violate health and safety policies, earn the store enormous fines, and/or get fired? Fucking seriously? Currently, I've been working a second job that I don't give half a shit about, while caring a lot about my current job. But I have also been seeking a better second job and recently found out that I am indeed being promoted. So I am successfully escaping from that job. I successfully escaped from the job I was working at during this story. As far as I know, this kid had not been searching for other jobs. And he's a kid. I have enough work history and enough good references that I could afford being fired one time. I was fired last summer. Less than a year later, I'm being promoted in my new job. He didn't have the history to be able to afford to get fired. He had had one job in the past, which he left on bad terms. He's not going to get any positive references from this job because his attitude was garbage. So let me put it this way: When you have no fucking prospects and are not eligible for unemployment, maybe you should care if you get fired.

Also, asshole, this isn't just a matter of you not doing your job, which you don't, and if it were my decision, your ass would be fired for that alone. You're putting the store in violation of federal policy. You are doing things that could get the store shut down. You don't care if you work? You don't care if you ruin any chance you have of working again? You want your girlfriend to support you forever? Fine. It's your choice to be a worthless piece of shit. But you're *way* out of line doing things that can cause everybody you work with to lose their jobs. Yeah, people make mistakes. I can see "Oh, no, I didn't know that was a huge fine. Let me move this drink." But no. "I don't care if I get fired and take everyone down with me."

And yes, kids, the end of this is that I talked to *my* supervisor. And yeah, it was a write-up. And no, I don't feel bad about it.

Fat Shaming, Part Two!

How fucking sad is it that this has a Part Two?

Just to recap, in case there are any new readers, Hi, I'm Roz, and I have a bit of extra girth. Quite a bit of extra girth. Yes, kids, I'm a fatty. And I'm so very cool with it. I do not feel limited in my activities or my movements, just in what clothes I can wear. I do not have weight-related health problems. I have a tremendous sex life. And I'm cute as Hell.

Yet, I frequently deal with stupid people and their fat-shaming. As you all may know from previous entries, I am required to suggestive sell junk food as a part of my job. I frequently get in response to this "Oh, no I'm watching my weight" or "That's really bad for you," while the customer glares at me. Really? Then I'll pretend I don't see your cart full of beer, cigarettes, and all of that cat food made by that company that refuses to do quality inspections and is well known for poisoning animals yet somehow damn near has a monopoly on pet food, oh, wait, it's because of assholes like you who think my weight (my choice) is a problem but don't care enough about the living creatures you're responsible for to make sure you're not poisoning them (not their choice). Yeah, how's that for a rant?!

The story that I meant to tell, however, is one that some of you may have heard already.

I was recently at the store where I work, and happened be showing somebody an old photo. A coworker, who we'll call Gita, walked by and saw this old photo of me from high school, posing with my sister. Now, in high school, I was a size six (still had some awesome hips, though). My non-American readers, this is what is frequently presented as the ideal size for a woman. Not the practical, most common, or realistic size. That's a twelve, which is really only 3 sizes larger (8, 10, 12). American sizes are stupid. I look at photos of me in high school and I think I looked kind of gross. You could see my individual ribs. I don't mean you could see my ribcage when I was topless. I mean, wearing a low cut shirt, you could count my ribs from my clavicle down. My bra size was 34B. I found an old bra the other day and laughed for about twenty minutes. Today, I don't look like a walking skeleton. I'm not going to share my dress size, but my bra size is 40DDD. So, notable difference. Gita looks at this photo of my sister and me, and asks "Is that you?" "Yep, about ten years ago." I'm not at all exaggerating about this. Her exact words were "What happened? That much of a difference in just ten years?!" and shook her head.

Why in the Hell would anybody think that okay to say to me? Why would anybody think that's okay to say to anybody?!

So, I bitched on Facebook about this, without mentioning Gita's name, just saying "a co-worker." I work two jobs, so I figured nobody would really be completely sure of who I meant. The next day, my workmate, let's call him Shawn, greeted me with, "So, I came into work today, and I saw Gita. And I asked her 'What happened to your face?' She got confused and went to look in the mirror, then I just smashed her face into the mirror. And I said 'What happened to your face? That much of a difference in just ten seconds?!' " Obviously, this didn't actually happen, but damn, did I get a laugh out of it. The kicker is, folks, that Gita's pretty chunky herself (I still think she's very pretty though).

Fat shaming: It gets dumber every day.

The Saga of Gulp-N-Blow

Heads up, folks. This one probably isn't going to be super funny. I understand if you bail now.

So, I currently have two jobs. I really like one of those jobs (which I'm just going to call DrugStore USA). DrugStore USA's is a really good company to work for. They treat their employees very well, they care about their customers, my insurance is amazeballs, I love my co-workers, there's a lot of opportunity for career growth, blah blah blah, I really like it there. Unfortunately, I can't quite survive on my current hourly wage. So I work a second job, as a keyholder for a women's specialty clothing shop. In an outlet mall. As I grow more and more disgruntled, I call this company more and more ridiculous names. It has a three syllable name, which is lends itself to mockery quite well. In the past three months, I've gone from calling it its actual name, to an identifiable variant with "barf" replacing one syllable, to Barf-N-Blah, to Herp-N-Derp, and finally Gulp-N-Blow. I am extremely mature and this is perfectly reasonable behavior for somebody about to hit 30.

Oh, man, where to start with how ridiculous this place is? I'm going to just start by telling about the exit of my former boss, who I'll call Marie. Marie was always a little spacey and difficult to talk to, but around November she started getting a lot worse. By Black Friday, she was completely bonkers. She was showing up to work hours late for her shifts. I normally close at DrugStore USA, so I was opening at Gulp-N-Blow a few days a week. Marie would show up late with such frequency that she was making me late to DrugStore USA. Again, I love DrugStore USA and am not willing to risk my job there for a shitty part-time job with no advancement opportunities, so I quit. Then I promptly panicked about bills, called Marie, and told her I'd stay on the condition that I only worked Wednesday mornings (Wednesday being my regularly scheduled day off at DrugStore USA). It worked out well, because the other keyholder is in school all day Wednesdays and we needed somebody to open on Wednesdays. So yea! With this arrangement, my cable bill's paid, plus it's some extra money for groceries!

So Marie kept getting crazier. It came to a head on a Saturday night in February. Marie went out for a cigarette around 3:00, leaving two associates in the store alone (this itself is a violation of company policy and common sense - there should always be a member of management staff in the store). She just didn't bother to come back. The associates ran out of small bills and couldn't access the safe to get change, so they began turning away customers who could only pay in non-exact cash. They took turns calling Marie's cell phone, to no avail. Six hours after Marie left for a cigarette, it was time for the store to close, so the associates locked the door from the inside and left. They were unable to make a deposit because they weren't trained and didn't have access codes to complete end of day functions in the computer. The next day, the keyholders decided it was time to notify the district manager. Now, the districts for the company are insane, and the district manager was based over 800 miles away. So the district manager, who I'll call Jenna, hopped on plane and arrived at my store Monday morning to terminate Marie. Marie showed up three hours late, stoned off her ass. Couldn't hold her head up, couldn't speak in complete sentences, was just completely incoherent. So Jenna sent her home and told her to come back on Tuesday morning so they could finish their conversation. Marie never returned. Never signed her termination papers, never turned in her keys, nothing. And because this is a terrible joke of a company, the locks weren't changed and the safe code wasn't changed. So brilliant.

Our assistant manager, Renee, has been out on medical leave since November. So a 19 year old keyholder was acting as de facto manager until corporate started sending visiting managers out. Having management experience, I applied for the store manager job, as did the 19 year old, who I'll call Katy. We had two co-managers (Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Bitch) fly out from the other side of the country to conduct the search for our new manager. They rushed through my interview, wouldn't allow me to answer questions, and kept talking through the interview about how they were going to go a large department store and all of the things they wanted to get. Katy's interview was scheduled shortly after mine. They just completely forgot about her interview. The next day, I went in to Gulp N Blow before work at DrugStore USA, because we were short staffed and I was helping out. I was supposed to work 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. so I could get to my real job that I care about. 10 a.m., Tweedle Dumb called to say she and Tweedle Bitch were running a little late (yep, already an hour late). The two of them came flouncing in at 12:30p.m. with a bunch of shopping bags from stores in the mall. That night, I e-mailed the regional manager and withdrew my name from consideration for the store manager position. It was obvious to me that this ridiculous crap was deemed acceptable in this company's corporate culture, and I want nothing more to do with this company.

While Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Bitch were in town, I badly injured my ankle. I called off from work the day after they decided to show up three and a half hours late so I could go to urgent care and get my ankle X-Rayed. When I returned a few days later with my note to be off from work for a week, Tweedle Bitch said she had called me several times over the recent days. I did, indeed, receive a call from her the day before, but no others. So I said "I never received the other calls." To which she nastily said "Well, we have voicemail confirmations, so obviously you did." Seriously? Seriously, Bitch? Did you just accuse me of lying? About something as stupid as a voicemail? A) I don't fucking lie. B) Yeah, that's the way to treat your employees. It's a proven fact that being extremely disrespectful and calling your employees liars is the best way to achieve productivity. Oh, wait. Sorry, had that wrong. The exact opposite of that.

So, new manager comes in (we'll call her Andrea). She keeps asking me about my availability, which I'm holding firm on. I can work 9 to 5 on Wednesdays through Memorial Day, and then I'm not sure what will happen, because Wednesdays will become mandatory for me at DrugStore USA. This was not a condition of my being hired, but it was a condition of me not quitting six months ago. I've been stating to this company for six months that I am available Wednesday mornings until Memorial Day. Fucking period. This has stopped now, but for a while Andrea was calling me every day "What's your availability this week?" Same as it has been. Pay the Hell attention. So I'll go to work and there will be piles of clothes in various places in the store. Boxes torn open and half emptied. Rolling racks with tons of merchandise on them. And absolutely no notes or attempts at explanation as to what the Hell this stuff is there for. Oh, there's clothes on a rolling rack? Are these being marked down? Back stocked? Just put out on the floor? Set on fire? So I find things to do throughout the day, trying not to mess up the unexplained projects that were left in progress. Basically, what I'm getting at is that the store manager is making absolutely no attempt at communicating with me, despite my requests for her to do so.

Now Katy, the other keyholder, is on break from school, so she has totally open availability. Andrea is scheduling Katy to open on Wednesdays. So I didn't work at all last week and I'm not on the schedule for this week. Trust me, I don't want to be there, but I do want to not starve to death.

Basically, it's obvious to me they don't want me there. Cool. I don't want to be there either.

I'm about to get promoted at DrugStore USA. That promotion will come with a 45% raise. So obviously I'll be quitting Gulp-N-Blow the minute it's official and I have it in writing that the promotion is actually happening. We expect that info to be made official this week. So here's my thing. I don't think I need to give notice. I haven't been scheduled for two weeks, so obviously, Gulp-N-Blow can function without me just fine. They clearly don't want me there. They've shown no respect for me, and I really have no desire to show respect for them. I'm about to be promoted at the company I intend to retire from. I have a lot of really good references from DrugStore USA and from past employers, so I don't need Gulp-N-Blow as a reference. With as unprofessional and rude as they are, I don't even want them as reference. I think if I offered two weeks' notice, Andrea would just refuse and tell me to be done. And I don't really want that particular slap in the face. I think I'd rather just turn in my keys and announce that I won't be coming back, then insist on having a photocopy of the key log for proof that I turned my keys back in (Yeah, there's no trust here). So, folks, what are your thoughts? Give notice? Don't give notice? Sell the keys on eBay?

No, Really, Boundaries

So, here's my thing. I don't like children. I had a long ramble to justify my not liking kids, but fuck that. I don't need to justify it. If you have kids, that's awesome. I hope you love them, because they're living beings and they deserve love. I hope they have lots of people in their lives who love them. I'm sure you're proud of them, because everybody's children accomplish amazing things and they deserve encouragement. I, however, don't like children. 

One of the most common, and frankly dumbest, responses I get to this is "Oh, sure, but you'd love my kids." No. I may love you and am happy for you that you love your kids. Still don't want them around me. It's not like "I don't like green vegetables." "But try edamame! It's different. You might like it!" "Okay...om nom nom...Holy shit, this is amazing!" It's more like "I don't like being stabbed. I love you, but that doesn't mean I want to be stabbed by you." Loving the person who is stabbing me will not make being stabbed enjoyable. I may very well love you and am happy you have children that you love and are proud of, but I don't want children around me. Of course I'm not totally horrible. I'll visit my friends who have children. I'll even play with their children. My friend, who I'll call Peri, has a seven year old daughter. She's a pretty neat kid. She's really sweet, nice to her friends, kind to strangers, very smart, very creative. She likes giraffes. I love hearing stories about the neat things she's doing. I still don't want to spend more than five minutes with her in one go.

So, now that we've established I'm a horrible person and a nasty bitch to boot:

My co-workers all know that I don't like kids. I don't know what the Hell to do with them when they come into the store. And this may be most of my problem with kids. I don't want to overstep boundaries and discipline other people's kids (because it's not respectful to the parent and it's not my fucking responsibility). I'm not being paid to entertain your children. Don't let your children break my stuff. I have a thousand things to do, and people not watching their children makes it impossible for me to finish my work, because despite not liking kids, I value children and am not going to walk away while they're trying to knock a shelf of chemicals over on themselves. When they're very young and try to talk to me, I don't know what in the Hell they're trying to say. So I just nod and say "Oh, yeah? Yeah? Neat! Cool!" while thinking "Where the shit is this thing's parent?!"

Where are you going with this, Roz?! Get to the point already!

So, co-worker came in to work today. As usual, I had a floppity jillion things to do, with the extra fun bonus of a workmate having had broken the machines I use all day last night. So, co-worker, let's call her Pearl, comes in while I'm on the phone with tech support, trying to get a technician to come out on a Sunday, because my department was losing hundreds of dollars what with Mother's Day being one of the busiest days for my department. So Pearl's got her daughter in tow (6, maybe? I have no idea about the age). At this point, I'm on the phone with tech support, halfway under the machines trying to troubleshoot. And Pearl walks up with her daughter and I hear her say "You can stay here with Roz while Mommy works." From under the machinery, I just called back, "Nope! Roz is busy playing with electricity and caustic chemicals" and kept working. Fortunately, she got the not-so-subtle hint on that one and took her child with her.

In my current position, I get a 15 minute break and a 30 minute break. Since my department is fairly autonomous, I can take my breaks whenever I want without having to have somebody cover for me, but I try to take them at about the same time every day. When I open the store, I frequently don't eat before I go in because I know I have that 15 minute break, which I use to eat a muffin or a yoghurt, consume some caffeine, and read a bit of a book. With everything that was FUBAR today, I finally took my 15 minute break 2 and a half hours after I normally do. I go into the break room, unwrap my muffin, and here comes Pearl and her daughter. "I'm going to go do something on the computer in the office. Sit here with Roz." NO! DON'T FUCKING SIT HERE WITH ROZ! Dammit, Pearl, you're not a single parent. Your husband is so damn wealthy that you have a "just for fun" job. Leave your kid at home with Daddy and Big Brother or get a babysitter if you're not going to watch her at work. But of course, I won't actually say that out loud, so I just keep reading, hoping she'll get the point that I'm not there to be her baby-sitter, especially when I'm on a break. Nope. Her child kept asking me questions. "What's that paper?" "Bookmark." "What're you reading?" "Book." I wound up only taking five minutes of my earned fifteen minute break because I wanted out of the situation. 

Again, the part of this that is so ridiculous is, everybody there knows I don't like children. I'm very good at my job and I don't mind doing the really difficult stuff or moving the heavy shit around, but I tag other people in when children need things because they stress me the Hell out and irritate me.

I feel extremely disrespected when things like this happen. First of all, Pearl was completely disrespectful of the fact that I have a job to do and it's not watching her kid. She is well aware that I'm trying like Hell to get promoted and need to be getting about 16 hours worth of work done in my 8 hour shift. She knows that nobody else in my department gives a fuck, so I have to do their work, too. And, here's the biggie, she knows I don't like kids. So logic would dictate, get the Hell out of my way, let me do my job, and keep your child away from me!

Here's a Rant about Subtle Fat Shaming

We've established that I'm a fatty, right? And I don't care. I'm pretty, and I have fantastic boobs. The sporadic health problems I have aren't related to the weight. My activity is in no way limited by it. So recap, I'm fat and I'm cool with it. But that doesn't mean it's okay for people to say rude shit about it. And thus begins this rant about rude shit people say.

Where to start? Let's go with the most recent. The guy I've been seeing was keeping me company while I was running errands over the weekend. So we're waiting at the bank to go talk to a banker, surrounded by people, and he says "You look really good." Aww. That's nice. Thanks, Honey. "Yeah, you're really slimming down. You look a lot better." Aww. FUCK YOU, DICK. I have been working on my core, but not to lose weight. I actually enjoy exercising and my job is highly physical with a lot of lifting, so I have been working on strengthening my core. And that is slimming me down a bit as a result. Which I don't mind, but it's not the reason. But first, it's not cool to tell me loudly, in front of people that "Oh, here, I'm calling attention to an aspect of your physicality that a lot of people find unattractive," but I still understand that's coming from a good place and is meant a compliment. "You look a lot better" is where we're getting into "Fuck off" territory. "Oh you didn't look good enough while being happy with yourself, but now that you're a little less fat, and are becoming more traditionally attractive, you look better." Look, the only time it's not rude to say "You look a lot better" is when talking to somebody recovering from a major illness. Even then, not really cool. "Hey, remember when you were on chemo? You looked gross, but you look a lot better now." No. A compliment is "You look good." When you add an insult about somebody's appearance before, it stops being a compliment. "Wow, you look really good as a redhead. You looked kinda fucked up as a blonde." "Hey, your eyes look really good today. Thank God you found that eyeshadow, because your lids were just kind of crazy and horrible before!" "The new uniform looks great on you. That orange one made you look like a washed out zombie." Would anyone say that shit? No. So why do you think it's okay to say "You've slimmed down. You look better." Leave me comments. Let me know if this makes sense. I may need to elaborate. I told the boyfriend how he turned a comment that he may have meant in a sincere fashion into a back-handed, really offensive comment. He then got mad at me. "God, why can't you just accept and appreciate my back-handed compliment?" Because in a relationship, giving back-handed compliments, or "negging", is an act of emotional abuse. Oh, and again, fucking rude.

Another fairly recurrent thing. I genuinely don't know what to do about this one. I have a co-worker who always feels it's necessary to comment on what I eat. This woman is so skinny that her doctor has been telling her she needs to gain weight. She has all sorts of health problems that are directly related to how intensely underweight she is. Now, I have a few friends who are quite underweight. I can think of two off the top of my head who have been told by their doctors they need to gain weight. And neither of those people (one is male, one is female) are trying to be so thin. The male has been forcing himself to eat more and to eat things with higher fat content. But his genetic make up is to be extremely small. And he's comfortable in his body and so he looks great. The female is a little more self conscious about it, which is sad because she's beautiful. She has told me before that the term "skinny bitch" always makes her cry, because she tries so hard to not be so intensely underweight. She has Marfan Syndrome, which some scholars believe Abraham Lincoln had. This would account for his abnormal facial features and his long, extremely thin body. I don't believe in "skinny shaming" anymore than I believe in fat shaming. Your body's your body. And it's awesome. So back to this coworker of mine. She is extremely skinny by choice. And okay, good for her. That's a choice she has made, it makes her happy, so go for it. But every time I eat anything at work, she has a comment about it. If I'm eating pizza, "Ohh, you're eating pizza" in a really judgmental way. "That's bad for you." Yep. Sure is. Om nom fucking nom. But it's the same judgement when she says "Oh, you're eating yogurt." With a strong overtone of "That's stupid, what's the point, fatty?" It's just rude and unnecessary. Same when any cashier feels it's necessary to comment on the items in your grocery cart. "Oh, man, that ice cream looks really good" is fine. "Oh, my. Ice cream, cookies, frozen pizza. Someone's hungry!" Yep. And maybe someone has teenagers having a sleepover. And someone is definitely also buying a ton of yogurt, tofu, bananas, and snap peas. Would you like to comment on that part of it?

Pretty Sure That's Sexual Harassment, Dude

I think I have a pretty solid sense of humor. I'm pretty difficult to offend. I mean, there are lines you don't cross with me, but I'm sure everyone has their lines like that. I'm not okay with jokes about rape, but short of that, jokes of a sexual nature aren't disturbing to me. You want to show me a photo of a palm tree covered in lights to resemble an erect penis ejaculating? That's pretty damn funny and clever. (Unfortunately, I'm not certain of the origin of this photo. It's been passed around on Twitter and Facebook and such quite a bit. At any rate, here is a link to it. http://www.utefans.net/message.php?id=1469443 If somebody knows the original source, please let me know so I can give credit where it's due.) You're in awe and want to show me a photo a girl sent to be printed at our store of herself masturbating? It's hilarious that she has no shame and sent that for a stranger to develop. Dirty jokes? Awesome. That customer has a nice ass? I agree. I probably have way more examples of this, but it's five a.m. where I'm at and I should be attempting to sleep instead of blogging like a lunatic.

So, here's a thing that even I think is too much. I'll be using fake names

At my retail job, we recently got a new supervisor, a male in his early thirties, who we'll call Adam. Our store manager is an older woman, probably in her mid- to late-sixties. We'll call her Linda. She is also frequently spoken of negatively by store associates. So, Adam's first day, he sees that Linda is not super popular with the store associates, and decides it'll be fun to join in on trash-talking her (awesome leadership, dude. Awesome). He gets pretty intense about it. There's an orange-y, clumpy stain on the floor of the floor, about which Adam remarked "I bet that's from Linda's cunt. Look, it's even got little hairs that are her hair color!" To me, that's not funny, just weird. Inappropriate, but not really offensive. Just weird. Our store sells personal lubricant. Adam will frequently pick up a bottle of lube and hold it up to some random associate, and say something in the vein of "I bet Linda uses this with her husband! Ewwww!" Again, inappropriate, weird, not funny, but not really offensive.

I was recently told a story about Adam's first day at the store. A female associate, who we'll call Sheryl, was  sitting alone in the break room when Adam walked in. He sat down in one of the cheap little plastic chairs and said "You know what would be awesome right now? I would like to have a beer in my right hand, lean back in this chair, and get a blow job."

Let's break that down. "Hi, female lower-level employee. I'm a heterosexual male in a position of authority over you. A blow job would be nice right now."

Not cool, brah. Not cool.

Fortunately, Adam's last day with the company was today. He had already turned in his notice before I heard this story. If he were to stay, I would have reported that incident. I don't think this incident falls into any grey area. I think that's straight-up sexual harassment.

I support coworkers being friends. I think it helps with morale and teamwork. It makes going to work less dreadful. I've worked places where nobody was supposed to talk to anybody else. Spending 8 hours in a small store with three other women and not speaking is horrible. Joke with your workmates. But don't tell a subordinate you're in the mood for a blow job! Don't even tell someone at your own level you're in the mood for a blow job!

Positive Examples! Yea!

In showing folks how to not suck at life, I occasionally have positive encounters. I had such an encounter yesterday evening.

I've adopted a dog who I love dearly. He's a rescue. He had been severely abused and neglected. He's been extremely distrustful of new people and terrified of water, but he's been getting better. I currently do not have the proper apparatus to bathe the dog at home, and I had to give in and take him to Petco's grooming salon so he could get a bath. I was extremely nervous about him getting scared while a stranger was spraying water on him. I told my concerns to Crystal, the lovely young woman who gave him his bath. She came out into the waiting area of the grooming salon and crouched down to be at my dog's level. She let him sniff her, he accepted a treat, she petted him. She spent about five minutes just crouched down, letting my dog get a sense of her and letting him become comfortable before putting the grooming loop on him and leading him into the back. Through the bath, she went nice and slow with him, letting him smell the hoses before using them and being overall very gentle with him. And he did just fine.

I'm sure a lot of you are thinking "Duh, she used common sense and followed her job training. So what?" But that's exactly it. SHE USED COMMON SENSE! SHE FOLLOWED HER JOB TRAINING! SHE EXPRESSED THAT SHE CARED ABOUT WHAT SHE WAS DOING! There is a competing pet store that I refuse to take my dog to, even for food or toys, because I know how poorly they train their salon associates. That company emphasizes rushing and keeping costs low. They way Crystal interacted with my dog was just wonderful. The other associates I saw in the salon were acting the same way with their dogs. To me, above all else, this says the company actually cares about who they hire and how they're trained. Petco emphasizes actually caring about the animals they see. Every employee I've dealt with at any location has seemed to genuinely care about what they're doing. Maybe this isn't so much informational or providing sound examples of what to do or not to do as much as me just expressing that I was happy with the way things went down yesterday. But I was happy with the way things went down yesterday! And I firmly believe that when a company, and especially when an employee, does something great, they should receive recognition. I'm going to call in the morning to speak to the salon manager to pass on the kudos.

Perspective time. I used to work for that competitor I mentioned earlier. I worked in the grooming salon, very briefly. That is how I know just how piss poor their training is. My first day, I was being trained by a girl who had just returned from a medical leave. I was to replace her. She was in the process of being promoted. She had started out as a bather (what I was to do), and was about to start "school" to become a groomer, being able to cut the dogs' hair and such. She quickly told me that she will never work on Pitbulls and that it would be wise for me to refuse to work on pits as well. I asked her why. And she told me the story of why she had been on medical leave. She had been bathing a scared pit who managed to break his grooming loop and run off. This scared, confused dog ran and hid underneath a table. The bather got on her knees, reached under the table, and grabbed the dog and pulled him out by his front legs. Shockingly, the dog bit her in the face. Of course the dog bit her in the face! I understand what happens in a grooming salon and if somebody roughly grabbed me and started pulling me towards them, I would bite them in the face! A terrified dog who has no idea why a stranger is spraying water at it? Of course he's going to run! And then the stupid bitch was rough with him and forced him out of a place he felt kind of somewhat safe? Yeah. I'm personally proud of the dog for not going for her throat. That bite didn't have shit to do with what type of breed that dog was. Pits are the sweetest dogs ever (my dog is an Australian Shepherd mix, with no pit, so I say that without bias). They are so easy to train. Unfortunately a lot of horrible people train them to be violent. That's not indicative of it being a bad, violent breed. It's simply indicative of how easy it is to train a pitbull. But that's my PSA and not exactly relevant. The point is, that bather was clearly, 100%, absolutely in the wrong. But that company was afraid the bather would sue them for being injured on the job, even though this is the equivalent of working in a hardware store and having an associate sue because he/she personally decided it would be fun to try that juggling thing with live chainsaws and lost a hand. So instead of risking a law suit and taking action to protect future clients, the company promoted this idiot. Everything about that is how you suck at business. If you don't have the common sense and compassion to work with dogs, DON'T WORK WITH DOGS. If you're going to promote somebody who could have seriously injured, and definitely traumatized, a dog into a position where they get to put scissors near the eyes of dogs...just stop. Just stop existing. Seriously. Please.

In short, well done, Petco. You are a shining example of doing things right.

Don't Insult Your Demographic

I'm a fatty. I acknowledge this. I have no illusions about my weight or my size. I'm heavy and I'm fat.

A result of being a larger woman is that I have to shop at stores that carry clothes for larger women. This includes the store I purchase bras at (and trust me kids, you will be hearing A LOT about this company if you follow this blog. I'll probably make up a name at some point). The particular company makes good products, but their customer service is, across the board, shit. I also have had the displeasure of working for this company, so I know that they treat their employees as badly as they treat their customers. I mean, I get it. When I worked there, I was miserable and I hated everybody. But I don't suck at my job, so I didn't let it show when talking to customers.

So, I went about an hour out of my way to go to a location of this store other than the location I used to work at, because I know the staff there is rude. I still don't understand what exactly prompted the following comment, as my equilibrium was well intact, but at one point an associate decided it was appropriate to say to me "Don't fall, because I'd never be able to pick you up." I just kind of raised my eyebrows at her, saying nothing, at which point she got huffy and exclaimed "God! I was just joking!" and stormed off.

My mother happened to be in the fitting room, so I asked if she'd overheard. My mother said, "Yeah, what was that? That was extremely rude and uncalled for."

"Okay, just wanted to make sure I wasn't overreacting."

Since it was confirmed by a witness that my offense was not an overreaction, here's my ranting.

Really, bitch? REALLY?! You work in a store that is known for carrying larger sizes. Women like me shopping in that store are what generates the income that that store needs to guarantee you a paycheck. Wanna hate on fatties? DON'T WORK IN A STORE FOR LARGER WOMEN! In fact, you know what? How about you don't work in a store at all? If you think that type of behavior is appropriate, you're clearly never going to be good at customer service. If you're not good at customer service, you just make those of us who are and who choose to work in this industry because we like it look bad. Quit. Quit your job and go work on assembly line where you won't be required to talk to anybody. It pays better and you'll be far less likely to get bitch slapped.