Is this the way a toy feels when its batteries run dry

It's kind of funny, when it's a Saturday, they have more people at work, because more people are shopping. It's actually one of the days I get more stuff done, because there are enough extra people that I'm not stuck on registers all day.

Anyway, today I was not scheduled for any registers. Because there were a lot of people in today. And believe me, I need that time, I had three carts of non alphabetized new releases and all this stuff for black friday (the day after Thanksgiving). And I'm still putting up displays that were supposed to be up on Halloween.

I was grateful, really, but in my head I was like, "Yeah, someone's going to call out. There can't be this many people scheduled to work without one of them frickin' flaking on us, considering how fucking flakey everyone we've been hiring lately is."

Sometimes it hurts to be so right.

So yeah, it wasn't that bad to have some register time, it was a lot better than the past few days when I've had five hours. I'm just sick of being told I will have a day when I can actually get things done... and then not getting them done. During the precious few hours I had back in the back with no customers to interupt, I got called out to do customer service, then when I was supposed to be on the floor (and had planned to get the last of the Halloween stuff finally done) I had registers instead. And like I said, it really sucks that people call in every day, and fuck everyone's plans up every day. I especially feel bad for people who work in the cafe, because since we have less cafe trained people, one weak link in that chain and they have to do something horrible like call in Elaine on her first day off in god knows when, or make Baby Stealer work some shitty split shift thing.

Speaking of fuck ups, honorable mention goes to the dude wearing the "I may not be Mr. Right but I will fuck you until he gets here," T-shirt. Why he felt the need to wear that in a store that children are likely to be present at, I don't know. Why he felt that particular statement was funny and not lame, I don't know. Why the creepy-ass bastard kept asking me to find things, I don't know. What I do know is that I wanted to set him on fire and tell him to suck on my junk.