Showing posts with label Cigarette. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cigarette. Show all posts

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Bipolar?

This week as been quite the week, and with how fast paced it has felt this should come as no surprise. But there are two more days left to this week and today has been the most eventful by far.

Around 12:00am I had an episode.

Around 12:45am an old, almost boyfriend wanted me to have phone sex with him. Um, no.

Around 7:50am I downed a cup of coffee and headed to school and actually arrived on time.

Around 1:00pm I starved myself because I had work to do, that wasn't collected.

Around 4:00pm I started to drive to work, I drove 40mph the whole way there.

Around 4:30pm someone wouldn't sell me cigarettes because they thought my ID was fake. I fucken took my business elsewhere. Fuck that shit.

At 5:15 I finally went to work. Now this is where the stories start.

As I came into work, I counted down a drawer, since I was going to become main ringer. I've become closer with Stacy recently. This is due to the fact that Bovan now works at WAL-MART and that I'm one of the few members of the night crew who has been working there for more than 3 days.

The night was slow therefore Stacy and I spent most of our time mildly gossiping about customer experiences, and funny family stories while we folded. She had informed me that she had a very important story that she couldn't believe that she had forgotten to tell me. I immediately thought it was just an extra saucy story about one of our regulars--I was right in part.

Stay started to tell a story with the regular customer coming up to 2 newer associates and claiming, "I need a new outfit for court that doesn't make me look like such a fucking slut, like I normally do." The associates informed Stacy that they were uncomfortable. She was the perfect customer to create a bond with but whatever.

Stacy then took it upon herself to assist the customer. She knew her superior customer experience would aid her in not feeling like a pansy uncomfortable idiot. The customer had revealed to her that she had to go to court for domestic abuse, and that she may have her children taken away.

This only made Stacy feel worse because the woman showed her a GIANT tattoo (a tribute to her children) that she had gotten earlier in the week that was causing her physical pain on top of her emotional pain. Stacy did help her find a nice pair of khaki pants, and a black camisole to go with the denim jacket she had wanted. She looked plain jane, just how her lawyer had asked of her.

At the end of the story, Stacy informed me that she had forgotten one crucial part. The customer had said to Stacy and one girl who isn't new, Mae Ling, "Where's the cute little gay boy who always helps me?" Unfortunately, they had to inform her that there were not any males on staff until 5:15pm. When Stacy had to inform her, she told me it was when she really noticed that the poor customer had officially hit rock bottom

The worst part of it all is that it was one of MY regulars. I feel terrible that I couldn't have been there when all she wanted was assistance from the person who always aids her. I could have been her crutch. In her hard time she needed a familiar face who never judged her. I had her on my mind all through the rest of the night.

Around 8:15 I went on my cigarette break. I had that customer on my mind. While sitting outside, and old man was walking into the mall. He said to me, "Those cigarettes are that good to make you sit out in the freezing cold?"

I was in no mood, and couldn't believe the audacity of this old piece of shit and replied with, "You don't know what you're missing."

Expecting a chuckle from the bitter old fuck, he sassily replied, "It's a nasty habit."

As he reached for the door, I said in a firm, irritated, yet informative voice, "Fuck off." The old bastard shook his head as he walked into the mall. Go ahead and walk into that mall. Do you know how many worse things happen everyday than a teenager smoking a cigarette outside of the mall?

It killed me that he didn't understand how I felt. My emotions have been across the board all week, not to mention today. I felt frustrated, depressed, sad, ugly, beautiful, sassy, angry, hurt, excited, jealous, even happy.

Call me Sybil, but I'd much rather be called Caesar.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Artificial

The Nark is on full alert today during US History. She thinks I'm behaving in the computer lab doing as I'm supposed to. I'm just trying to prove her oblivion despite the fact the fact that she thinks she's like God in that she's all knowing.

She's standing and pacing around the room like she's so innocent, but she's not. I've seen and experienced her true colors. I know how she talks to her husband, and treats him like a second-class citizen. Marilyn has filled me in, and knowing how she was in Europe DOES NOT help her cause.

I know just how to get under her skin, so I have no problem deflecting her condescending attitude. She likes to be in power. I take her out of power to see her vulnerable because I know that is exactly what she doesn't want to be.

In school, I know I act similar to how Narcotics Police act. But I have different intent. I act how I do because it's who I am, but she does it for the reputation of for some kind of notoriety. She's a woman of God, and she follows the church--so you know there has to be a contradiction near by. Haha.

I have never needed a cigarette so bad in my life. School fucking stresses me out. I don't even have a pack right now, otherwise I'd "Go to the bathroom," and have a cigarette on the stage.