Christmas Time. What the...
December 21st 2006 11:16
Yes, what the fuck indeed.
Due to working in retail I have a lot of mixed feelings about Christmas. If we could take away all it has become, or weedle down the population enough so that it isn’t like a cattle-call whenever you walk into a shopping centre during December, Christmas would be tops for me.
To those of you on holidays, good luck to ya, more power to ya. Hopefully this year I’ll be joining you for a day or two, for some beers, some bocci on the lawn, good food and good friends, and merry companionship. Usually, having worked in retail for the last five years (on and off), I don’t get any time off apart from Christmas and Boxing Day. But I should get at least four days off this year, which is a respite I look forward to.
In the shops, people turn into monsters around Christmas. For some the season of holiday cheer and commercial veneer brings out the best in them. These are the customers which make the days less worthless. But the arseholes… Oh my god, the arseholes…
Today I went to Red Rooster for lunch, the line was long and turgid, slow too – Red Rooster should never truthfully claim ‘fast’ food status. The staff were all under 18, there seemed to be no apparent manager on duty, and they were evidently struggling. Apparently they were out of whole chickens (!) and a few people were getting impatient whilst waiting on their bulk catering. A couple in line behind me just moaned and bitched and groaned and moaned continuously. “They should all be fired”, “Look at her she isn’t doing anything”, “The manager’s probably out the back the lazy so-and-so”, etc, etc. It made me ill. This couple should have just fucked off, really. Why wait in line for that long and whinge and whine? You might as well take your business elsewhere. The staff are getting paid about 7 dollars an hour (or less), it’s a part time job that no one else will do, what do you want from them? Have a bit of compassion, understanding, patience, common sense, intelligence and lack of fuckwitness.
One woman was going nuts because her catering hadn’t been done yet and she’d been waiting for twenty minutes and she kept berating the poor girl on duty, continuously calling her by her first name (reading from the badge) in a really mean way as if it was the girl’s fault. The worst offender in the queue from hell though was the waddling white trash mum in front of me. She had a coupon and when it was refused for being out-of-date she just left. Why the fuck would you wait in line for twenty minutes only to leave because you can’t save $2? Is your time really worth so little that you’d rather waste it then spend an extra coin? Too much time and not enough talent. Anyway, I’ve rambled enough.
I like Christmas, I really do. All my friends are out and about more, there’s lots of food to be eaten, New Year’s Eve is just around the corner. But Christmas is only good because of the company I keep, everything else – the shops, the fervent arseholes of yuletide non-cheer, the mean spiritedness of capitalism and the overall sloth that drenches it all – can go to hell.
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