Let me start out by saying this... I love my job. Really, I do. I meet new people every day and have several customers that are my favorites. Yes, I admit it. I have favorites.
Ryan, of course. There is an older gentleman, he reminds me of my Papa Bill. All he wants is a Copenhagen snuff. And then he tells me I'm only sweet when I'm asleep. There's a guy Mom & I both know. We refer to him as Hot Guy. He's entirely too good looking, very sweet, and smells incredibly yummy. There's the lesbian. She flirts shamelessly, even though she knows I am married. Then my junkie. He calls me his dealer. He comes in daily, I believe, to buy at least 1 of the 32 oz. Rockstar energy drinks. (Yuck. For the record, I've not met an energy drink I like.) He's pretty funny. He came in today and told me he was working his way through my blog. He says it's funny. I've heard that a time or two, but I still don't believe it.
Kids. I have a love/hate relationship with them. Most of the time, kids are sweet, cute, and funny. When do I not like them? When their parents aren't making them behaving. Or when they go in the bathroom alone. That scares me. No, I don't want them to make a mess, but I also don't want them to accidentally lock themselves in. Also, when parents send their small children in to pay for gas, I worry because people speed through the parking lot.
Teenagers. Again with the love/hate thing. Sometimes they are funny. Sometimes they are rude. And sometimes they are sweet. I saw a couple standing on the sidewalk sneaking kisses. I'm not sure why they were sneaking kisses, but it was so sweet.
Teenagers lead me to underage tobacco buyers. I don't know how many times I've actually had them show me their id's and knowingly be underage. They kill me. Thinking that a sure smile and confident attitude will get what they want.
And that brings us to... alcohol. How many times have I heard, "No beer? What the?!" Yes, I know, hard to believe, but it's the truth. I hear it like this too. "No cerveza? Por que?" And yeah, it may be mean, but I just stare blankly at them. (Again, yes, it is mean, but I think if you live here, you should speak the language. That's my opinion.)
Men. Generally speaking, most of them are pretty cool. There are some weird ones. Some rude ones. And some extremely perverted ones. Another of my opinions? Man hands should be rough and calloused. Not all soft and manicured. My favorite guys, (other than the ones listed above, I mean.) are the police officers.
Police officers are so much fun to mess around with. I was on the phone with Mike one day and Patrolman Wigley came in. I said, "Honey, I've gotta go. They're here to arrest me." Mike is all spazzing out and I hang up on him. The officer is shaking with laughter, and Mike calls back. I give Wigley the phone and he answers. "Hello? No, sorry. She's in handcuffs right now." I'm not sure exactly how he pulled that off, because he was trying the entire time not to bust out laughing. Ah, I love to prank my husband. I'm always thinking of something to pull over on him.
I think I'm the equivialent of a bartender. You know how everyone tells their bartender their troubles? I hear everything. Health problems. Their take on religion and politics, which I don't discuss at work. Does anyone out their like Baja Blast Mountain Dew? Supposedly if you mix regular Mountain Dew and Sierra Mist, that's what you get. Someone let me know.
Anyway, I'm bout to pass out. Really quick though, M got his orange belt! Way to go Monkeybutt!
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| I think he has Auntie A's problem with blinking at the most inoppurtune times. |
Allie
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