Monday, July 13, 2009

Sidewalk sale

This past weekend was our Sidewalk Sale, an annual event where downtown retailers wheel clearance items outside and try to sell the losers so they don't have to take up floor space anymore.

Usually our sale is an extra 50% off the 50% off clearance price, but this year, most items were just $0.99! which created quite the frenzy. My ears are still ringing with the question "Is this 99 cents?".

The photo is of some decorative letters that were on sale. I was thrilled that we only had 5 left and that some cheeky customer arranged them so that they read "BUM XO." Maybe some customers do have a sense of humor.

Friday, July 3, 2009


At work today I was reading some care instructions for the molcajete. It listed a multi-step process that included rice, onions, and garlic and lots of pre-grinding. Maybe I was an ignorant jerk; maybe the molcajete is a delightful heirloom tool that just needs a bit of care to get just right. Maybe I am a dumb modern that doesn't get ancient tools. I do like the idea of items that should not be overly cleaned. Whatever. Molcajete, I will leave you in peace.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Early Summer Bitchfest Roundup

-I was staring out the window and saw a young woman that is a customer of ours. She recently registered and I don't know if she is stupid or devious, but I find her difficult. There she was, walking down the street on a lovely summer day with her mother and grandmother, eating an icecream cone. And me, jaded bitchy clerk, immediately thought "Good to see that little bitch feeding her ass. I bet she's one of those woman that get married and then 'let themselves go'." I feel a little bit horrible.

-There is one couple and their dog that really bug the crap out me. I used to say that I didn't mind the dog, just the owners, but I realized I don't like the dog either. Although technically he is handsome, he is dumb as a sack of hammers and has no personality. They might as well be dragging around a stuffed toy that blows snot everywhere.

-Their is an elderly man that comes in and tells jokes. Although I like the situation in theory, the man has lost some sense of boundaries and makes customers and staff uncomfortable with his dirty sexy jokes, some of which are improvised. Dementia+Improv+Dirty Jokes=AWKward!

-The other day we got a new molcajete. We were touching it, play-grinding spices and avocados. Huge chunks of stone were coming off the inside of the bowl and grinder. I don't know if that was supposed to happen or not, but it seems like serving food speckled with gravel is a bad idea. Our manager said it needed to be "seasoned." While I don't doubt that, I dread the thought of trying to sell customers a cheap crumbling version of an ancient tool and to convince them that the tablespoon of grit is just part of the seasoning process.

Blue Tuesday

I switched days this week with a co-worker, so I get a reprieve from Freak Out Wednesday.

I am back from vacation and so sad. I always hate coming back from trips and my sadness is compounded by the fact that I have to delay my plans to move closer to my boyfriend because I do not have enough money. There I was, back at work, pacing, dismayed by my delay without an end date and nearly imploding from the boredom and tedium. When I acknowledged that I must go to work and excel in order to make the money, I almost lost all semblance of sanity.

Since going out of my gourd and fleeing the store is not a viable option, I gave into an activity which may not be healthy, but sustains me in times of work panic: play shopping! I fondle merchandise which has never previously seemed attractive. A bamboo cutting board, elongated for the serving and slicing of fish? With a groove on the edge to catch the juices? I sort of need it! Especially with all the parties I host. I really don't have enough serving pieces. Ok, maybe I don't host parties, but I want to start, and maybe this lovely cutting board will be just the thing to inspire me!

When I actually type out the thoughts that went through my mind, I want to throw up. That is not the sort of person I am, right? Delusional, materialistic, irrational? The desire to host parties is okay, but thinking that a cutting board with prompt me to do it is insane. That is the thought process a hoarder goes through, right before they are crushed by a mountain of stuff.

I tossed the cutting board back onto the shelf. I don't need to acquire items to get what I want, I need to sell them. Let the merciless commerce begin.