Get a Bloody Move On!
Tuesday, 25 August 2009 | 9:57 pm
Apart from the two Beatles songs he played some time around noon, of course, which almost made my day. Too bad my partner was on lunch break at the time, probably stuffing his face in the cordoned-off area at the back because he didn't get to eat breakfast and he was rather famished, or I'd get to hear what he has to say about I Want to Hold Your Hand and Hey Jude.
It just went downhill from there come afternoon but by then my partner, having returned all refreshed and energised (the smarmy bastard), and I were already too busy to listen to the music because customers were dumping books onto our counter like it's the end of the world.
I mean with the amount of books these people were buying, you'd start to think if they were actually planning on running their own library. Sure, it was understandable that at such an insanely affordable price, you'd be mental to limit yourself to buy, say, only twenty books but there was this one man: really, Mr. Swedish, 165 books?
Boy, was I flustered.
He came with a bloody trolley!
On said trolley were red plastic bags jam-packed with books. I don't even know how many there were; my partner transferred every single one of them onto the counter and ripped them open and spilled the books out for us to count. Even he was flustered. So, being the rational people that we are, we'd come to a conclusion that we would take this nice, slow and easy.
Our method was like this: empty everything out, put all the counted books in piles of ten and then - get a bloody move on! But, you see, some of the customers were so "helpful" that they emptied the rest out and mix the yet-to-be-counted books with the Piles of Ten. Bleuhr. So then we'd lost count, frustrated and pretty much prayed that we weren't too far off from the actual number of books, if it weren't that too confusing already.
My partner didn't allow me to bag the magazines due to its overwhelming weight, which was half annoying and, uh, sweet?
I know, I know; it's like an unspoken rule that not any under circumstances should a guy let a girl carry heavy stuff but I guess I'm just not used to having guys helping me with stuff like, yes, bagging the overweight bundle of magazines (Partner), or opening the lid of my dinner for me and then throwing the container away for me after when clearly I could bloody well manage that perfectly on my own (Shah), or even wait for me to come back out from the restroom on breaks so we could go back together (both).
It was the sort of sweet that got quite nauseating after a while.
Not that I'm not grateful.
They were great - my partner and Shah.
And—I said I'd make it brief. Ha ha.
Enough of that weekend bit. It went by in a blur. I was quite sad. I've never felt that happy at work before. Of course, something nice always has to end.
aldkj928i-021rudja!
Ahem.
Humbug! I can't wait to get Humbug.
Humbug. Humbug. Humbug.
Oh, maybe I'd go buy Harry Potter DVDs as well.
...all for the sake of Draco Malfoy.
I mean, really! What's becoming of me?
Gee.
Ich, Ich, Ich
Sunday, 16 August 2009 | 12:43 am
...wish death was easy as taking bottles of pills minus the risk of being found in time for an accidental saving.