Baby, It's Cold Outside

And that's why she's wearing her winter warmest panties.

How do I know that Alvin the Chipmunk's Mom was wearing her warmest panties, you ask?

Because SHE TOLD ME, shortly after I asked her if she was ready to checkout.

Why did she tell me, you wonder?

I wonder that too.

My Favorite Christmas Think

Is that my Sweetie makes up words to traditional Christmas carols. And, if anyone knows who Harold is, please let him know.

An example:

"Jolly Old St Nicholas, lean your ear this way,
don't you tell a single soul what I'm going to say
Billy wants pair of skates
Judy wants a bell
Jimmy wants the kid next door
To go straight to Hell."

Yeah, that's the true Christmas Spirit.

It's Winter, You Dim Wit

So, Cry Me A River came back to work after having her baby (which, contrary to the numerous stories she was telling, is fine.) She's still nutty as a fruitcake, or frooty as a nutcake, whatever.

She doesn't seem to understand that she's working mid-shifts, which means she will be doing breaks. Yes, all day long, all over the front end. If there's an open register, she can be expected to cover at least one break there. It's not rocket-science.

Anyway, she doesn't bring a coat to work--even knowing that the garden center is open, and she'll be spending at least some time covering a break (or two) out there.

(as a side note: last week, she just flat out refused to cover my breaks. She didn't bother to tell anyone that she wasn't going to cover them, she just didn't. Sweet! My breaks became either non-existant or over an hour late. Yes! Fan-flipping-tastic!)

She doesn't have to cover those breaks anymore--I'm sure they haven't bothered to tell her that with or without a coat, she's going to be covering those breaks. I'll just get to go without.

Never mind that two years (or is it three?) that when I was told that the garden center wouldn't be open, and didn't bring my warm stuff, I had to go out there anyway. And I got to freeze (sans straw bale/windbreak) until they got the hut up.

Oh, yeah. It's an equal opportunity kind of place. Sure it is.

Beam Me Up, Scotty

As we all know, I meet up with some truly reality challenged individuals at work.

Yesterday, I had the Christmas season's doosy! She's getting an award and going down in the annals of my Flypaper for Freaks experiences.

First, she wants me to cut the wreaths down that are on the gate to catch your attention. She refuses to believe me when I tell her we have those SAME wreaths INSIDE the gate, on a table, just a-waitin' for her to buy 'em. I have to practically dangle a martini in front of her to get her to walk over that way.

When she finally makes it back to the register, she says, "Wow. I don't envy you, working out here."

I tell her my standard, "I volunteer for this."

Her eyes fly wide open, and she leans forward and says, "You mean they don't even PAY you to be out here?"

Now, remembering that it's winter, and I'm wearing copious amounts of flourescent orange (and have been asked, "are you seeing many deer out here" tee hee eye roll) and the temps are hovering around 26 degrees, and it is RETAIL, this is absolutely one of the frootloopiest questions anyone could ask me.

It takes all my willpower to answer, "Oh, I am an employee. I just like being out here, and so they let me be."

"Oh! That's better, then."

What I wanted to say is, "No, lady, I LIKE to wear this gawd-awful outfit, sit out in the cold weather, and deal with nutbars like YOU. I pay THEM for this."

I think this qualifies for the "Beam Me Up Scotty, There's No Intelligent Life Here Award"

Curiosity

Curiosity killed the cat. And it just may kill me.

We have infants to shop for this year, and whilst perusing the aisles of infant wear, I came across something that is driving me crazy for want of an explanation:

Infant socks (size 0) with SAFETY TREAD.

I have to ask: What in the world does AN INFANT need safety tread on the bottoms of his (or her) dainty little piggies? Where is he going, and how fast is he expected to get there on his own two feet?