Temperatures Are Not An Indicator

Early last week, the Gnome said he had to talk to me. Then he hauled someone else into the office, and never got me. Still hasn't. Wanna know what he wanted to talk to me about? Yeah, I'm kinda curious too.

Anyway, today, it was brought to my attention that Hell has not actually frozen over, and probably never will.

Today, I received the prize our company gives out to those employees who have managed to suck up enough that the customer emails and tells the company how fabulous you are.

Yeah, I know!

I've had a few of these, but since no one ever got my last name, even though I'm the only person in our store with my name, they wouldn't give me prizes. But that was well over a year ago.

Today's prizes were for compliments sent out last year--November, December and January (it's retail, so we don't need to stinking calendar!) When handed my prize, I shrieked with laughter. I took my prize to the break room, and shrieked with laughter.

And my coworkers are just wonderful:  one walked into the break room from the right door, glanced at me with my obvious prize said, "Oh, you've got to be kidding." and strolled right on out thru the left door.

Another coworker sat there and asked, "So who'd you get that from?" Sounding for all the world like I'd mugged someone who did actually suck up enough to get one.

I also got a few comments about how "emails from your family don't count."

Everyone wanted to manhandle my letter--sure it's a form letter, but it's pretty funny. It tells me that they are "especially proud to have an employee with [my] dedication" and that I "help set the tone and define the customer service culture among all employees in [our store]" and they reminded me that "These items are only awarded to employees, like [me], who clearly understand and practice being customer focused."

They also urge me to proudly display my pin (which I didn't get--apparently, those pins only go to exceptional suck ups employees.)

It's great--but no one in the store actually saw the email. And it was never posted, like the others who have gotten them. Odd, because corporate, much like God, does not make mistakes.

The end is near--with little snow, and few days of subzero weather, it's hard to imagine what part of the Apocalypse this represents.

Immunity

I think I have finally become immune to the weirdness that attacks my life.

Tonight at work, I was covering a break at the customer service desk. A woman comes up, and while I don't entirely remember how we came to discuss it, she began the conversation by explaining that she has a new purse. (don't worry, it gets weirder)

Then she explains that while she has her ID, she doesn't have her credit card with her. Well! I can actually help with that, so I do. During the time I'm getting her a temp copy of her card, she asks about my glasses. I explain where I got them (Sears) and that they are progressive lenses (I'm old, okay?) She is all atwitter about that....and at some point, she wonders, out loud, what she'd look like in my glasses.

Yes, she actually wanted to try on my glasses. And I, like the weirdness goddess I am, LET HER. I handed 'em over, and she put 'em on.

It didn't strike me as weird until she actually began the old ladies version of Vogueing them for me:  she turned so I could check both profiles and asked me how they looked on her.

It worries me that I seem immune to the utter oddness of the people I deal with. It worries me more that instead of being totally freaked out and skeeved by this, I simply handed a woman I've never seen in my whole life my glasses and let her slap 'em on her face. And then, God help me, THEN, I simply told her they looked fine on her. Like passing out my glasses for a quick looky-loo is totally normal, everyday kind of stuff for me.

This, yes, THIS is my life.

Sweet Mother of Mercy!

My brother is now tagging me on Facebook in photos he's taking of his Sunday flyers.

This week? Sears. (and yes, I said taking photos of the ads.)

Sears, in a misguided attempt to encourage shoppers, divided it's flyer into this side up=women's crap and that side up=man's crap. I don't shop a lot at Sears, so unless I'm actually looking for a sale on babies or tires, I don't look at the damned thing.

And he's taking pictures. And naming me as being in cahoots with him on it.

Save me from my family...please.