My Friend, Michael, e-mailed me today to voice his own annoyance about the Christmas Holiday retail season. So, without further adeau, here is my guest blogger, Michael, and his rendition of "All I want for Christmas is to Bitch, Bitch, Bitch"...
Since I do not have a blog of my own, I wanted to rant about something that you could put in YOUR blog.
You know what I find the MOST annoying part about holiday shopping? It's not the long lines. It's not the guy behind you talking on his cell phone so loud that everyone in the store knows about his wife's doctors appointment tomorrow at 3. It's not the never ending wail of children wanting this or that, "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE can I have it?" and it's not Salmonella, the cashier who couldn't care even less about her job if she really really tried.
No, its women with purses. Yes. I said it. Women with purses.
I mean c'mon. You know who you are. You know you are in line and are expected to pay for the crap your carrying in your hands. You could very easily have your credit card ready and help the line move along at a nice clip.
Uh-huh. Nope. You have to wait till the cashier has rung everything up and told you the total of your purchase and THEN you hike your fifteen pound bag up onto the counter. You open it and rifle through it for at least two minutes to find you wallet. You then proceed to pull out every credit card you own until you find just the right one. Oops. No, not that one. Use this one.
Then after you scrutinize every item on the receipt like you were searching for secret codes, sign it, you finally put your card back into you wallet. The receipt gets folded up and put in that special pocket in your bag. The one with the zipper that gets stuck sometimes. The wallet then has to go back into the bag, way down in there so you have to search for it at your next stop. The bag gets slung over your shoulder, and you pick up you purchases.
And being that I'm the guy behind you in line, I have had a small stroke by this time and don't even know what the hell I came in there to buy in the first place.
Joy to the world.
The Retail Whore
1 comment:
Oh, I know this woman. She used to come into my store when I worked in retail... she also had a screaming child with her or two that she had to hunt down in the racks before leaving.
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