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	<title>Store Rants &#187; Uncategorized</title>
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	<description>Tales of a boutique shop owner from behind the counter</description>
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		<title>Journal Entry From December 20, 2007</title>
		<link>http://www.storerants.com/2010/01/journal-entry-from-december-20-2007/</link>
		<comments>http://www.storerants.com/2010/01/journal-entry-from-december-20-2007/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 04 Jan 2010 23:13:28 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>doyouworkhere</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.storerants.com/?p=102</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[pissed off at myself. I have managed to: 1. Issue a coupon that doesn&#8217;t say &#8220;one per customer&#8221; and the same lady is buying a bunch of merchandise at 40% off that I just went downtown and bought. Walking about 1/2 a mile in the mist with a bag of merchandise with my muscles spasming&#8230; [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>pissed off at myself.</p>
<p>
I have managed to:</p>
<p>
1. Issue a coupon that doesn&#8217;t say &#8220;one per customer&#8221; and the same lady is buying a bunch of merchandise at 40% off that I just went downtown and bought.  Walking about 1/2 a mile in the mist with a bag of merchandise with my muscles spasming&#8230; all so she could get it at cost. I&#8217;m such an idiot.<br />
2. Drive out of the airport with my parking brake on&#8230; it sounds like I have a flat&#8230; I drive blocks with my hazards on while crying that I&#8217;m going to be late for work, have to deal with the car etc. (It&#8217;s a new-ish car)<br />
3. Because of the airport drive and mishap&#8230; I missed my shower this morning&#8230; I underestimated how much time it would take to go to the airport.</p>
<p>For a few weeks, and all of last December, I had carafes of coffee out for customers&#8230; I didn&#8217;t have time to stop at starbucks today&#8230; someone brought in their commuter mug and said&#8230;&#8221;I thought you would have coffee!?&#8221; with a sour face and threaded plastic lid in their hand&#8230;</p>
<p>&#8220;Wrap this $3.00 ornament&#8221;&#8230; breakdown&#8230; I make $1.50 on that $3.00 ornament.  The bag costs me .30 cents, tissue .25 cents and the bow&#8230; about .25 cents.  That&#8217;s 80 cents.  So, that $1.50 profit turns into 70 cents profit.  OH, you are paying with a credit card?  Let&#8217;s now call that 45 cents profit.  Thanks SO much for your business!!!</p>
<p>FU*K. I want to close. Who can I pay to come in and clean this up for me? I&#8217;m dreading the paperwork, cleaning, packing and thought that someone else will come in&#8230; but&#8230; if I can&#8217;t make it&#8230; nobody can. And fu*k you for thinking I&#8217;m being cocky. Sure, I had cash flow issues&#8230; but I sort of kick ass in the work department and stay dedicated when I need to be. You may think this is your fault but it&#8217;s not.</p>
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		<item>
		<title>Journal Entry from May 15, 2007</title>
		<link>http://www.storerants.com/2009/12/journal-entry-from-may-15-2007/</link>
		<comments>http://www.storerants.com/2009/12/journal-entry-from-may-15-2007/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 24 Dec 2009 22:44:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>doyouworkhere</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.storerants.com/?p=38</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Sundays and Tuesdays&#8230; both days for the slime to come out&#8230; I really shouldn&#8217;t complain&#8230; but the stress level from all of this is driving me nuts. The bookkeeper was here today and witness to some of the b.s. I get&#8230; I could tell it really annoyed her how I was talked to. I explained [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Sundays and Tuesdays&#8230;</p>
<p>
both days for the slime to come out&#8230; I really shouldn&#8217;t complain&#8230; but the stress level from all of this is driving me nuts. The bookkeeper was here today and witness to some of the b.s. I get&#8230; I could tell it really annoyed her how I was talked to. I explained to her that it was a daily occurrence and I&#8217;ve just had to build a thicker skin and put up with it all. I guess the worst part is that it&#8217;s so petty. They think that they can nickel and dime me about nothing and I should just deal with it&#8230; it doesn&#8217;t bother me on an individual basis, but add it up and the big collection of shit that has now become a 3-ton ball really gets to me.</p>
<p>
I&#8217;ve been having major stomach issues. I&#8217;m nauseous all the time and it&#8217;s been getting worse and worse&#8230; I know it&#8217;s stress&#8230; money issues, the shop&#8230; everything that I worry about&#8230; I want to ignore it&#8230; think positively and find a way to cure it myself. Mild food, liquid diet, something&#8230; I want to figure this out on my own, I don&#8217;t want a slew of tests that are invasive and embarrassing. Dark blood is involved and that would mean an ulcer.</p>
<p>
currently, there are 2 elderly ladies in here complaining that they thought this shopping trip was going to be easy, they could run in and grab something and go&#8230; I just talked to them and they were more understanding than I give them credit for.</p>
<p>
Here&#8217;s my rant for today after a series of mishaps (btw, I&#8217;m talking to myself and/or these theoretic customers&#8230; when I say &#8220;YOU&#8221;, I mean &#8220;ME&#8221; in item #1):</p>
<p>
1. Charity or no charity, you aren&#8217;t getting that item for free. There are a million charities and churches out there and if they all got discounts, YOU would be the charity case. YOU are in business to make a living, not pay interest for the rest of your life.  Screw them, you don&#8217;t need their business&#8230; I don&#8217;t give a you-know-what who you are&#8230; the pope could ask for a f-ing discount on a bath pouf and I wouldn&#8217;t do it. YOU need to feed YOUR family, screw them.<br />
2. No soliciting. I will never buy from you, don&#8217;t try, don&#8217;t approach my customers, put the item away, you are wasting your time. If I want something, I go and look for it, besides, your items are crap and I can get them at a better price than that downtown. Why would I give you money and encourage you to come back? I will not give anyone who walks in that door unannounced a dime. Even announced, leave me alone. I go to the gift show like everyone else. This is the time I order, this is the time I budget for the year and I don&#8217;t need anything right now. You can mail me a catalog and I&#8217;ll keep it on file, but I only order twice a year and I&#8217;ll let YOU know.<br />
3. This is not gymboree. Your kids are annoying me. Don&#8217;t let them play in the bathroom, or with the sand in the display&#8230; whatever. I will discipline them because someone has to, and it isn&#8217;t you. What are you going to tell your friends? &#8220;She yelled at my poopsie-kins!&#8221; Well, those friends probably know your kids are shits and will respect me even more!<br />
4. You have to like the store and buy from it because you enjoy it here, not because I gave you advice on how to deal with your mother in law. The business will go NOWHERE if I HAVE to be here to relay my thoughts on your ex-husband&#8217;s cancer. We set things up pretty, you may or may not want something, but my speeches aren&#8217;t always included. Pay for a shrink, leave me out of it.<br />
5. I can&#8217;t break a hundred dollar bill, sorry. I never have change and I&#8217;ve had a few bad ones so $100&#8242;s are a no-no. and traveler&#8217;s cheques? HELLNO. I&#8217;m not a victim, I&#8217;m not a target&#8230; I&#8217;m not scared of you, I don&#8217;t need your money. NO NO NO.<br />
6. Honestly, practice saying &#8220;NO&#8221;. It will do wonders.<br />
7. No consignment. None. zero. zilch. I don&#8217;t care if you are my missing twin sister, f the f off. (I do have exceptions&#8230; but the second it becomes an issue, done)<br />
8. You don&#8217;t really need my help as you wander around shopping&#8230; do they do that at target?? &#8220;I need a gift, can you be my personal shopper?&#8221; I should call Nordstroms and ask about that. What is their policy?</p>
<p>
The end.</p>
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		<title>Journal Entry from January 27, 2007</title>
		<link>http://www.storerants.com/2009/01/journal-entry-from-january-27-2007/</link>
		<comments>http://www.storerants.com/2009/01/journal-entry-from-january-27-2007/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 05 Jan 2009 20:31:51 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>doyouworkhere</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.storerants.com/?p=33</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[This is a basic, petty vent&#8230; just so I can get this out and let it go because it&#8217;s so f&#8217;ing petty&#8230; AB-annoying broad with tightest bun I&#8217;ve ever seen ME &#8211; duh AB- &#8220;that flag is certainly effective! It brought me right in here! I made a U-turn and came back up! Do you [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>This is a basic, petty vent&#8230;</p>
<p>
just so I can get this out and let it go because it&#8217;s so f&#8217;ing petty&#8230;</p>
<p>
AB-annoying broad with tightest bun I&#8217;ve ever seen<br />
ME &#8211; duh</p>
<p>
AB- &#8220;that flag is certainly effective! It brought me right in here! I made a U-turn and came back up!  Do you sell that flag?&#8221;<br />
ME- &#8220;thanks so much for stopping! We don&#8217;t have that flag but either store A or B down the street might have it&#8221;<br />
AB &#8211; &#8220;Oh, I&#8217;ll have to go look&#8230; but I&#8217;ll look around here first! It&#8217;s darling! My name is Dorothy, what&#8217;s yours?&#8221;<br />
ME &#8211; &#8220;uhhh&#8230; I&#8217;m Agnes&#8230; good to meet you&#8221;<br />
AB &#8211; &#8220;You know, I serve up at st. dumb catholic church. We have a 10:30 mass, you should come!&#8221;<br />
ME &#8211; nervous laughter<br />
AB &#8211; Looks around&#8230; idle chit chat. Then she stops and picks up a pair of scissors I have sitting on a stepladder. (They are in the tool-caddy thing.  It&#8217;s out of the way and I&#8217;m still working on a display, but it WAS on the showroom floor) *waving scissors pointy sides out furiously* &#8220;You know, I used to be a chaplain at a prison and you really shouldn&#8217;t have these lying around, it&#8217;s VERY DANGEROUS&#8230; wouldn&#8217;t you agree with me?!?!!!&#8221;  She said&#8230; eyes bugging out.<br />
ME &#8211; getting really angry&#8230; smiles and does the &#8220;so-so&#8221; gesture with my hand while saying&#8230; &#8220;uhhh&#8230;.wellll &#8221; <br />
AB &#8211; Very annoyed with me now&#8230; says a few things and leaves.
<p>Lame lame lame I know&#8230; but go back under that rock you crawled out from under. UGH. Okay, I can return to my happy manic mood now.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Journal Entry From November 1, 2006</title>
		<link>http://www.storerants.com/2008/12/journal-entry-from-november-1-2006/</link>
		<comments>http://www.storerants.com/2008/12/journal-entry-from-november-1-2006/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 10 Dec 2008 18:14:56 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>doyouworkhere</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Journal Archive]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[purple brain suck]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.storerants.com/?p=97</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[There is a family who dwells in this suburb. We have learned never to say their name because if you do, they&#8217;ll show up. It&#8217;s like Harry Potter and the Voldemort thing. It&#8217;s very hard to explain just why they are so annoying. They remind me of Grimace, the large purple gumdrop-looking dopey mcdonald&#8217;s character. [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>There is a family who dwells in this suburb.  We have learned never to say their name because if you do, they&#8217;ll show up.  It&#8217;s like Harry Potter and the Voldemort thing.</p>
<p>
It&#8217;s very hard to explain just why they are so annoying.  They remind me of Grimace, the large purple gumdrop-looking dopey mcdonald&#8217;s character.  After looking it up on Wikipedia, it sort of suits them perfectly:</p>
<blockquote><p>
Grimace is a large, purple anthropomorphic being of the &#8220;wumpus&#8221; species with short arms and legs. One alternative theory is that Grimace is a large, walking, talking taste-bud[citation needed]. He is known for his slow-witted demeanor. His most common expression is the word &#8220;duh&#8221;. He was referred to as Ronald&#8217;s autistic friend on an episode of Family Guy. Originally, Grimace was the &#8220;Evil Grimace&#8221;, with two pairs of arms with which to steal milkshakes. After that first campaign, the character was revised to be one of the &#8220;good guys&#8221;, and his number of arms was reduced by two. Commercials and merchandise generally portrayed him as a well-meaning simpleton, whose clumsy antics provided a comic foil to Ronald McDonald. The character was retained after the streamlining of the characters in the &#8217;80s.</p></blockquote>
<p>
Is it their lack of personal space?  The sheer size of the entire group?  The lack of a sound or opinion filter?  The fact that the adults take out credit cards in their teenagers&#8217; names and max them out?  The fact that they have latched onto a local church and get all of their needs from the church goers?  Rent, jobs, tuition, living expenses&#8230; all come out of this church somehow.  And, I think the congregation is frustrated with them, too.</p>
<p>
On about 10 different occasions we have joked about them, as one naturally would, and they would show up moments later.  Restaurants, grocery stores, movie theaters, other states.  It&#8217;s uncanny and totally creepy.  Especially creepy when you can hear one or more of them before they round the corner.  That&#8217;s when you run and/or hide because if you don&#8217;t, you&#8217;ll be stuck in a smalltalk loop.  My mother has even been in line in front of one of them at the grocery store.  He was on a rant about low fat ice cream.  Apparently he was talking to the little rubber divider because she, the checker and the other two patrons were ignoring him.  That&#8217;s how you have to handle them&#8230; ignore and then run away.  I will repeat this until it sticks because you too may run into them.</p>
<p>
So, one day, I ran out to run some errands.  My cousin was managing the store.  I come back and sure enough, this family has taken over my store.  Like domestic cattle with opinions, they graze on our coffee and cookies and talk about NOTHING for hours.  </p>
<p>
My cousin is laughing uncontrollably and whispering/gesturing to me &#8220;I&#8217;ll tell you later&#8221;.  Yes, this is funny.. but not <i>that</i> funny.</p>
<p>
They finally leave 40 minutes later and my cousin runs to the bathroom.  She opens the door to free a woman who had been hiding in the bathroom to avoid this family!  FOURTY minutes she was in there just so she wouldn&#8217;t have to interact with them.  So, now I know, it&#8217;s not just me&#8230; </p>
<p>
We had a good laugh&#8230; until the next time they came in.</p>
<p>
You have been warned.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Journal Entry from August 26, 2006</title>
		<link>http://www.storerants.com/2008/12/journal-entry-from-august-26-2006/</link>
		<comments>http://www.storerants.com/2008/12/journal-entry-from-august-26-2006/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 06 Dec 2008 01:01:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>doyouworkhere</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Journal Archive]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[bathroom biohazards]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[family interruptions]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[horrid vendor]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.storerants.com/?p=8</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I feel like I&#8217;m sinking today. No amount of lattes, kitten pictures or balloon animals will put a smile on this face. How do I get this attitude out of the gutter? One-by-one they come in and annoy me. How is it possible that there are this many annoying people in this suburb? Bathroom use [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I feel like I&#8217;m sinking today.  No amount of lattes, kitten pictures or balloon animals will put a smile on this face.  How do I get this attitude out of the gutter?</p>
<p>
One-by-one they come in and annoy me.  How is it possible that there are this many annoying people in this suburb?  Bathroom use is at an all-time high.  How can I reject the sad puppy face of the pregnant or recently stomach-bypassed woman?  You just can&#8217;t.  I can be heartless, but that&#8217;s an all-time low.</p>
<p>
Then, there&#8217;s the sitting duck syndrome.  Trying to limit contact with someone and own a store?  Think again.</p>
<p>
A lovely family member came in today&#8230; &#8220;you are TRYING to avoid me&#8230; why are you TRYING to avoid me??!?!?&#8221; and then proceeded to tell me all about her medical problems one by one.  A laundry list, as a few customers listened on.  This included removing more than one article of clothing to show me a bruise or lesion.  I almost saw genitals.  It was terrible.   In the process, she threw in a few insults about my weight including the &#8220;you look pregnant&#8221; jab.  Always in season.</p>
<p>About an hour later, yet another family member came in&#8230;primed and ready to throw some punches.  Put me behind a counter and it might as well be one of those dunking booths at the fair.  They just start throwing balls at your face.</p>
<p>
Somehow, in the middle of all that&#8230; the bitchiest woman I&#8217;ve EVER met came in to sell her dirty &#8220;shabby chic&#8221; sh** to me.</p>
<p>
let&#8217;s go back, if you will&#8230; to our first encounter a few days ago:<br />
M: me<br />
B: bitc*</p>
<p>
B: (awkwardly comes in and stands at the door holding a large framed picture with &#8220;chippy&#8221; paint to cover up the fact that it just might be old&#8230; I&#8217;m with a customer. She steps up to the counter&#8230;)&#8221;My friend frames various french art and I think you would like to buy them. They are $25.00 each.&#8221;<br />
M: &#8220;does he do more than these?&#8221; I&#8217;m a bit intrigued, but something doesn&#8217;t feel right.<br />
B: &#8220;Yes, but he&#8217;s in (some city far away from me) and doesn&#8217;t have a catalog&#8221;<br />
M: &#8220;does he have pictures?&#8221;<br />
B: &#8220;no&#8221;<br />
M: &#8220;Ummm&#8230; how do I know what he has?&#8221;<br />
B: &#8220;I&#8217;ll bring them to you and you buy them.&#8221;  She said robotically and semi-annoyed.<br />
M: &#8220;But, I don&#8217;t want to buy just one, we usually like to have groups of things. I plan out displays, I know what I need, and we usually like little groupings. And my partner would have to see them. If he had pictures&#8230;&#8221;<br />
B: She totally cuts me off&#8230;&#8221;When is your partner in?&#8221;<br />
M: &#8220;sometimes on saturdays, but I can&#8217;t be sure.&#8221;</p>
<p>
She leaves&#8230; I think nothing more of it, I&#8217;m actually relieved.  Someone who is trying to conduct business with boutique stores really should have a catalog&#8230; this notion of door-to-door &#8220;this is what I have, take it or leave it&#8221;, isn&#8217;t exactly charming or normal.  Usually, there is some kind of introduction or at least the &#8220;I&#8217;m getting a divorce, do you want my wife&#8217;s lamps for $20?&#8221;  I need a story.  Hers wasn&#8217;t convincing me.</p>
<p>
Today&#8230;</p>
<p>
B: (crushing my flowers by putting the frames on our expensive flower pots while trying to open the door.) &#8220;Here are three pieces, is your partner here?&#8221; She says this as she is looking around, not making very much eye contact with me.<br />
M: &#8220;Ummm&#8230; no&#8230; she isn&#8217;t&#8221;<br />
B: &#8220;Well, here are 3 examples. You said you needed 3, do you want them? I can leave them here for you to show your partner.&#8221;<br />
M: &#8220;They are pretty. I don&#8217;t feel comfortable leaving them here (Points to mess absolutely everywhere&#8230;) it&#8217;s a huge mess, I would hate to kick them or hurt them&#8230; but&#8230; again&#8230; is there any way he can get pictures or I can snap a picture?&#8221;<br />
B: &#8220;He doesn&#8217;t have pictures and he rarely makes the same thing twice, so these could be sold if you decide you want them&#8221;<br />
M: &#8220;How do I contact him if I want to buy them? What if I want certain colors? Does he sell them anywhere? I don&#8217;t know how to buy something I can&#8217;t see. Does he have a business card?&#8221;<br />
B: &#8220;He doesn&#8217;t believe in marketing! You can tell me the colors and I can bring them to you.&#8221;  She&#8217;s starting to get irritated and is getting louder, which is making me really nervous.<br />
M: &#8220;Can I contact you later?&#8221; (I slide over a piece of paper and a pen)<br />
B: &#8220;Well, you aren&#8217;t going to call me or talk to your partner, I don&#8217;t think I should give you my information&#8221; (slides paper back at me with force)<br />
M: &#8220;excuse me?!? What?&#8221; Now shocked by her tone<br />
B: &#8220;Honey, if you aren&#8217;t going to buy them now, you aren&#8217;t going to buy them and you have no intention of buying them.&#8221; She says in a totally condescending grandma vibe.<br />
M: &#8220;Well, sweetie, you don&#8217;t know how to do business, do you?  I can&#8217;t believe you are trying to sell things this way! Why are you even selling these things for this guy if he doesn&#8217;t have any contact information or any way to sell them? Polaroid, anything?!?&#8221;  The game was getting old and boring by this point<br />
B: &#8220;It works for everyone else!&#8221; She huffs<br />
M: &#8220;Umm, well, it doesn&#8217;t work for me.&#8221;<br />
B:  No words&#8230; just a dirty glare as she stumbles out&#8230; <br />
M: &#8220;Good luck!&#8221; I barked, a little snarky&#8230;<br />
B: &#8220;Good luck to YOU, you are the only one who hasn&#8217;t bought one!&#8221;</p>
<p>
Normally, an encounter such as this wouldn&#8217;t bother me so much.  But she obviously hasn&#8217;t done business before and she seemed really desperate.  I wonder if she had a prescription drug habit to support and she was pulling art off of her walls.  I didn&#8217;t see her get in or out of a car, but she was lugging quite a few banged-up art pieces up and down the busy street.  Usually when we get art dealers they are greasy men who wreak of cheap cologne and offer to have your babies*.  The well-dressed woman was something completely new.  The pieces weren&#8217;t terrible, but they were really common.  The old french posters and restaurants etc.  You see them everywhere&#8230; $25.00 was a tad high for the wholesale price of such a thing you can find at Cost Plus.  IF I purchased one or two, it would have been out of pity, not because it was a great deal.</p>
<p>
Ever have someone just rub you the wrong way?  Disrespectful, completely un-friendly.  She just got to me&#8230; in a way that I can&#8217;t describe.</p>
<p>
After-the-fact sidenote regarding the restroom thing&#8230;<br />
Cleaning the bathroom was something I loathed.  People would do horribly messy anonymous things in there&#8230; I mean horrible.  I am not equipped with a stomach that can handle biohazards.  Strange colors, fecal matter in the trash can.  You&#8217;d expect that in the gas station bathroom, but not the loo of a sweet little boutique.  How disgusting my customers could be in the bathroom became an obsession&#8230; one which I will revisit often in my journal entries.  I apologize in advance.</p>
<p>
*Okay, I had blocked out this story but it popped into my head when I read &#8220;greasy men&#8221;.<br />  Once, a guido-looking vendor came in selling a concentrated cleaner by the gallon.  Why I got suckered in and bought a gallon is beyond me.  Well, as he was putting my payment in his wallet, a condom fell out.  He looked at it, looked at me, and made that face as if he was shuffling a toothpick in his mouth from one corner to the other with his tongue&#8230; you know, to show off his tongue skills.  You know exactly the look I&#8217;m speaking of.  And the hairs on the back of your neck just stood up, too.  Doesn&#8217;t matter if you are male or female, this is the universal sign for &#8220;gross! no! eugh!&#8221;</p>
<p>
Anywho, he picks it up&#8230; all flat and smooshed (because you know you are supposed to carry your prize-winning condom in your hot, skanky squished wallet) and shows me a picture of a little girl adjacent to the prophylactic isle.  She has the same vacant stare as he does.  &#8220;This is my daughter.  I got her while in Hawaii selling this stuff door-to-door.  I carry a rubber now because&#8230; you never know when you can be of service!&#8221;</p>
<p>
It&#8217;s like he rode up on a white stallion!  And ladies, he&#8217;s virile!  He has proof!</p>
<p>
Seriously&#8230; this isn&#8217;t the first time.  I have more of these stories.</p>
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		<title>Journal Entry from September 16, 2005</title>
		<link>http://www.storerants.com/2008/11/journal-entry-from-september-15-2005-2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.storerants.com/2008/11/journal-entry-from-september-15-2005-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Dec 2008 04:33:45 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>doyouworkhere</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.storerants.com/?p=54</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[consignment and consignors&#8230; again why am I so annoyed by these people? Even the ones who are my friends bug me. I spend time cleaning, displaying, labeling, wrapping and doting on their &#8220;craft&#8221; and all I get is &#8220;where is my check??&#8221; When they are being &#8220;interviewed&#8221; for the first time they are sweet as [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>consignment and consignors&#8230; again</p>
<p>
why am I so annoyed by these people? Even the ones who are my friends bug me. I spend time cleaning, displaying, labeling, wrapping and doting on their &#8220;craft&#8221; and all I get is &#8220;where is my check??&#8221; When they are being &#8220;interviewed&#8221; for the first time they are sweet as pie, &#8220;please only take what you want, price it how you want&#8230; giggle giggle&#8221; then 2 months down the line they are demanding, ignore the rules and are quite pushy to boot. &#8220;Make an appointment!&#8221; I ask over and over. Even if you are my best friend and have 2 things to log into the book&#8230; I may be with someone else, it may be a sale day, I may have gone home sick. Why can&#8217;t they call??? Then there&#8217;s one case of my good friend who is upset with me because (I think) I&#8217;m not too friendly when she comes up to the shop to put in her consignment, which is always a busy saturday afternoon. How do I convey to friends family etc that when I&#8217;m in work mode I can&#8217;t be chit-chatty unless there is absolutely nothing going on? My (family member) thinks I&#8217;m cold, a few others think I have become bitchy and &#8220;moody&#8221;. </p>
<p>
I think I should go to their place of business, pull up a chair and while they are typing or talking on the phone I should just explain, in detail, the patterns of my menstrual cycle, I&#8217;m sure they&#8217;d be all ears.</p>
<p>
do this: although you may ruffle a few feathers, say no to the crap carrying nomads who wander in unannounced. Be sweet, be stern, lie&#8230; set up some rules. argh! Dickens Carolers?!?! Who buys those??? is it because I&#8217;m younger that they think they can get away with that or are they just pushy by nature? you down with OPC (other people&#8217;s crap)&#8230; ya, you know me! I think I&#8217;ll post that on a wall in cursive glittery guilded writing. (It&#8217;s my journal&#8230; I can be corny if I want to).</p>
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