Spaghetti and Truthballs
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
  Irritants of EPIC proportion
This is a three part irritation. All stand alone. If irritation be the food of rants.... Rant on, rant on, rant on...

Part One:
Way back in March, I was writing cards to a few special people. I did this at the associates abode. When I was finished, I stamped the cards, and asked the associate to place them in the mailbox. He happily agreed. I left, assuming that the cards would find their way to the mailbox. Being that I am very familiar with the male species, I even asked if they had been mailed. He said yes. Cut to yesterday. I was, again, at the associates house, writing cards to a few special people. As I was stamping them, The ASSociate gets this EUREKA! look about his face, and says 'Oh!,' gets under the bed (Yes, thats right, under the bed) and removes the three month old cards and says 'I forgot to mail these...' Feel free to scold him in the comment box, he is a regular reader.

Part Two:
I went into a department store to browse for the impossible items. FYI- The obnoxious perfume ladies are out in full force. On my way from the entrance, to the escalator, I was attacked SEVEN times. This could not happen again, I had to make a plan of attack for my exit. I thought, I thought, and I thought some more. I stepped on to the downward escalator, and I saw them, like pirhanas, ready to bite. What did I do? I shit you not, I RAN through the department store to the exit. Nay. I sprinted.

Part Three:
I returned something to a department store. I paid with cash, and I had the reciept. Their policy: You must return item at the place in the store that the item was purchased. You must then, if you want your cash, find your way to the customer service counter, and recieve your cash there. I waited approximately fifteen minutes for a CS associate to help me. They then go through a series of questions as to why I wanted to return the item. Once it was deemed that I was STILL returning the item, they reluctantly handed me my cash back. ASS HATS.

I mean, really. Seriously. People kill me.
 
Comments:
I hate perfume counter ladies - the worst one's live at Dillards. You're not even safe in the shoe section.
 
Re: the cards
It was me.
Everyone scold away.

the verification word i have to type to post this comment is jvjoxy -- now, maybe it was memphis, maybe it was southern summer nights, maybe it was you, maybe it was me, but that word is having this strange effect aphrodisiacal affect on me. and i like it.
 
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