So my good friend RetailBoy emailed me this evening as I sat down to my wholesome dinner of lobsters stuffed with tacos. Looks like he had a bad day. Sad face for him. Actually his face is always sad, he’s a mournful looking dope at the best of times. Anyway this is what he went through today. Blades to your wrists aaaaaaand begin reading.
God I hate my life. Each day in this florescent tomb makes me think that there is some sick bastard out there raping the voodoo doll version of me with his large diseased penis…it’s the only explanation.
Today, like most days, I am verging on suicide. Let me set the scene for you. I have a gigantic work load, something large enough that no other person would be arsed carrying out, and it is crazy busy. I can bearly get near what I have to do because of the annoying pricks that ask me the same damn questions all day long and never retain the information. The shop floor is a bombsite and I have no hope of correcting that without some help from another staff member who doesn’t exist. This multi million dollar corporation won’t shell out a few extra bucks to employ another person, it makes me fucking sick. It’s the run-up to Christmas and I’m still doing the job of 3-4 people…and then my job. This company has the working capitol of a much larger business yet refuse to employ the penniless scum of this wounded country. Looking at their accounts would cheer even Morrissey up.
The noise from all of the mouth-breathers is ear shattering. Parents screaming at their children to calm down, display racks falling to the floor, crying children, the awful awful music on Today FM. Florence and her well oiled machine are blaring out of these shitty speakers and dear baby Jesus I want to smack my head off the wall. “Lucas! Don’t hit your brother!” i heard earlier as one child cried. Can I hit his brother…then all of you? You people need to be taught how to behave in public, parents more so. Grown ass men and women bitching about a 22c plastic bag levy…I mean honestly, it’s been TEN YEARS get the fuck over it you neanderthals!
The fun just never stops in this prison. Before I took off for my generous 20 minute lunch break I was a approached by a disgusting member of the general public. He enquired as to the whereabouts of the bathroom and I told him. This my friend is what happened next.
“Just through there.”
“But it’s locked!”
“Yes, well that means there is somebody in there…”
“Really, is it?”
Fuck sake! My child needs to use the bathroom, what am I supposed to do now ha?!
“Fuck sake! It’s a disgrace.”
“It’s…a…shop! Not McDonalds.”
“There’s no need for the attitude like!”
“I agree…ironic isnt it?”
“I’m going to complain about this, we will see how smart you are then”
“Ok, have a good day”
“Ahh go away from around me”
That actually happened and it’s not the first time something as trivial as an occupied bathroom is described as “a disgrace” or “ridiculous”. The fact that people like that prick spend their state funded child benefit cash on the stuff I sell…using tax payers money…is a ridiculously large disgrace. Cherish your life sir, you have it easy. Rape this country of cash for the rest of your joyless living days and treat others like shit just because you hate your children, you are a personified shining beacon to the rest of Europe of how fucking laughable this country and it’s policies really are. Fuck you.
I’m starting to wonder what I did in a previous life to deserve this awful job? Perhaps my previous-self deflowered the daughter of the King of England? Did I shag the queen?
I had this dream the other night that really disturbed me. In the dream I had a horrifically awful day (or a Tuesday to you lot) after which I had resolved to take my own life. I decided that I would jump out on front of a train but I had a few things to do first. I stopped in to the local pub for my last pint before heading to the train station. I stood on the platform and lit up my last cigarette. I figured “what harm could it do? I’m jumping on front of a train in mere moments.” As I exhaled I paused to watch the smoke slowly shuffle upwards and outwards from my body…it was calming. A few seconds later the Train comes speeding past me but there was no sound, my coat moved furiously in the backdraft but all I could hear was the calming tones of my breath slowly going in and out.
I think what that dream means is that work is killing me and that there is no escape? I can’t even kill myself properly. God I hate my life.
So now I’m going to go back to the place where dreams go to die. My lunch of uppers, cocaine and red bull have me suitably pumped for the rest of the day. I look forward to coming home later to eat Pringles in the dark listening to violent music, it soothes me.
Merry Fucking Christmas
Wow RetailBoy tell us how you REALLY feel! God he’s hard work! I feel bad for the guy…well not really, it’s pretty funny! As a man in a similar job I find his inability to cope rather hilarious. Oh RetailBoy why don’t you smile more? Have you lost your smile ala The Heartbreak Kid Shawn Michaels in the 90s? Dont worry, it all worked out for him, somewhat! Well he’s got a smoking hot wife despite his Jesus loving ways! What I’m trying to say here is… il get back to you. Chin up RetailBoy! Only 2 months left of Christmas!! Wooooooo! *Murders self