Thursday, July 14, 2011

What Happens At Work... Apparently Doesn't Stay There.

In the summertime I work at this little shop by a lake where we mainly sell beer, ice cream and junk food. This doesn't sound very exciting, I know. But holy shit, weird stuff goes on at that place. And some of those customers are even more whacked than we who work there.
This Tuesday I took a nice little 9,5 hour-shift, and among other things I danced and sang with/for some customers, tried to communicate with an old Italian couple who spoke Italian. And only Italian, it seemed. I tried to communicate with them in Danish, English and Spanish. Nothing got through. However, I sold them some ice cream and I feel like I might have understood their request. Maybe not, but they looked happy most of the time, so I guess I didn't do too bad.
As usual I had to put on my fake smile while I was thinking die, you son of a bitch! Wait here while I get my baseballbat, and I'll rearrange your face. I'm a grrrreat surgeon. and other stuff along those lines, when a bunch of people as. Fucking. Usual. Asked me if I just happened to be a certain famous person. Or perhaps related to her? If I were, I don't think I'd be working at minimum wage washing dishes and selling ice cream. Do you?
They do.


THERE'S A PARTY IN THE U-S-A!She wants to kick your ass. For realz.
Fortunately she's old and not very fast. I am the opposite. And I know where you live.
Ha.

It helps when people try to redeem themselves by saying that I'm prettier than her. But still I'd like just 3-5% of her money or $1 everytime people asked me that stupid question - and I'd be rich.
Also, on this darling Tuesday, I got hijacked into starring in a commercial. While at work, so I couldn't even run away as I may have liked to. And did the bitches pay me? NO! I'm seriously considering hunting them down. With a baseballbat or a lawsuit. Haven't quite decided yet.

On another topic, isn't this the Pope wearing a cowboy-hat?!

And is that a goldchain around his neck? Pimpin'!

Well, maybe people will now ask me if I'm "the girl from that commercial"... But we'll see.




RIP Bjørn.

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