Tits MaGee and Friends

I realized today, that some people really dislike their jobs.

Granted, I am not the ‘Poster Child’ for customer service.  I threw French fries at some schmuck while working for Burger King when I was 16 because he didn’t understand our cash-register system and therefore he called me stupid.  A good customer service representative would politely try to explain to him what was going on and the reasons why his small fry was added separately to his order (even though he wasn’t getting charged for an extra fry).  But then there is me, and I flat out threw the small fry at him, slapping his chest with fresh, hot, oily fries and I might have added an ‘F'-bomb to the phrase “Here’s your fries” right before I bailed.

However, we aren’t talking about my lack of customer service skills today.   Here’s how my rude experience happened. 

Dillards.  

The ever-popular department store here in my town, that apparently only hires, snotty, self absorbed women who cannot seem to find the tip of the corn cob that has been shoved up their ass to pull it out long enough to help make-up challenged customers like myself. 

In an attempt to obtain a “free gift with purchase” for my sister for Mother’s Day, I was slapped in the face with the reality that I don’t play well with others. 

Our paper put out an ad yesterday, highlighting the wonderful goodies that women could choose from if they spend $32.50 at the Lancome® make-up counter.  The idea was that you had 11 high-priced items, in which you were allowed to choose 6 from the 11 to place in your complimentary plastic bag that they give you.  My sister is a make-up whore and knowing this, I went to the center of hell today, and endured the over-bearing putrid smell of 47,000 different perfumes and egos, to purchase an item and choose 6 lotions and potions for her lathering pleasure. 

I waited.  And waited. 

Finally, a gal approached me and said, “Can I help you?” 

Of course I was nice, I always am.  I replied with “Yes, I wanted to do the gift with purchase offer you have, where I can choose 6 items from the 11 offered for my sister for Mother’s Da-.”  The not-so-nice assistant cut me off in mid sentence and says, “We’re out.” 

“Out – out?”  Questioning her.

“Yes. Well, no. Not out, but you won’t get to choose.  You should have been here yesterday when the sale was announced.”  She snapped back. 

“Oh.” Sarcasm is starting to surface. “I’m sorry, I should have called you.

Her lack of appreciation for my humor was written all over her face.  “Well we have 2 bags left. But you get what you get.”  Yep, I see the corncob starting to bulge from her pants.

She ran behind the counter and pulled out a gift bag and opened it up, and proceeded to dump the 6 free goodies all over the counter.  She half-assed displayed the cosmetics and rambled some nonsense about anti-aging serum and eye shadows.  I interrupted her, “So what is that cream? What does that do?”  She looked up at me as if I asked to see her corncob.  Raised an eyebrow and said, “It’s anti-aging.”

Oh! Well fuck – sold!  Really lady? I could have received a more intelligent response from my 10-year-old.  I bit my lip and said, “Right. I get that.  WHAT. DOES. IT. DO? Is it for eyes? Nose? Lips? Cheeks? Neck? What?” 

I shit you not.  Her response.  “It anti-ages you.”

I replied, “Do you work here? Is there someone who can tell me what these 3 different creams do for your skin?  Because ‘It anti-ages you’ hardly explains anything to me.”  She motioned to another gal that was helping an even bitchier dame than me and said “She’ll be with you in a minute.  And no, I don’t work this counter.” Her hand slid across the top of the counter as she turned around and the eye shadow slid off and cracked. 

I giggled.

I’m the obvious vagabond that ‘Tit’s MaGee’ and friends look forward to after dealing with prissy, stuck up bitches all day. 

The other assistant came up to me and asked if there was anything she could help me with.  I said, “Yes.  I just wanted to know what these ‘creams’ do for your skin. I’m trying to purchase this for my sister.  Susie smart-ass over there told me ‘It anti-ages you’ and quite frankly, that doesn’t tell me anything.”  The gal snickered and then went onto explain all the wonderful things this little 4-inch tube did.  She obviously paid attention in make-up school.  I was impressed.  Even though I didn’t retain a bit of information from her because I was fixated on slapping the stupid out of Susie.

She also apologized for her associate’s behavior. 

I purchased my $32 worth of crap and took my goody bag and left. 

I’m off to find me some good Karma.