That's it. I'm just not eating anymore and that's all there is to it. First the fuzz, then the bone, now this.
This jackass customer brought in cookies for us all today. Believe it or not this is not unusual. I actually make out pretty well with food and knick-knacks at holiday time from those idiots who frequent the store as customers. Everything from cookies to McDonalds gift certificates to fruit baskets sometimes come my way and the other poor souls that Barry enslaves in this pitiful excuse for a record store.
These poor bastards see you everyday and by some twisted path of unhealthy reasoning they think they know you. They consider you a -friend- and therefore include you in their Christmas shopping. Well, not really, but as much as the paperboy or the babysitter.
Then there's this emeffer with the cookies today. I should have thought something was up because I didn't recognize this guy. Most of the 'providers' are regulars that we, the retail slaves, at least know well enough to grunt or nod to. I don't remember seeing this suck before.
He brought in a big tray of chocolate chip cookies with a card saying "For the staff of Barry's Record Trader - Thanks for a wonderful year of pleasant service." Mid-day, choclate, slow biz, we dug in. Within the hour we were fighting each other for the closet-sized bathroom. None of us even minded the smell from Hell.
So I'm officially on a starvation diet. Screw food. And screw this bastard with his laxative cookies. Merry effing Christmas.
