The Doctor Is Out

Today, the Weasel sez to me, "I had one of the guys from Self-Important Asswipe Builders talk to me about you."

I sez, "Oh?"

He sez, "Yeah. Uhm, he's not happy because, and he knew your name, he said that when he comes in, you never remember him. I don't know the guy and never saw him before in my life. But he said, "yeah, that mumplegirl always asks for my ID, and she never remembers me."

I sez, "Self-Important Asswipe Builders? There's like a thousand of them, and I'm not often at that register, and in all honesty, they all look and smell alike--not attractive."

He sez, "Well, he said you didn't make him feel memorable."

I sez, "Well, if it's JimBob, I swear that kid never looks the same two days running."

He sez, "Nope. Not him. A different one. I told him that maybe you're just not observant."

I sez, "Well, you know, they also will tell me a name that's on the list, but it's not them. They do that a lot, too."

He sez, "I know. And you follow Da Rules. Which is good, but this is retail, and he said you don't make him feel important."

I sez, "Tell him to grow up."

He sez, "Mumple, mumple, mumple. I know, I know. But it's retail. It's retail."

So I sez, "I know it's retail. But retail ain't therapy. And if his self-image and self-esteem is so low that he needs ME to validate his existance, he needs to grow up, get a grip, and get some therapy. I'm not a therapist."

He just looks at me for a minute, then sez, "Mumple, it's retail."

sigh. Apparently, that Plankton designation on my name tag now includes being some asshole's ego validation.