I'm a Barbie Girl

I have drastically cut back on the amount of hours I work at Walmart to accommodate my learning to be a librarian. I now only work two or three days a week, but I think somehow every crazy person in Halifax got a copy of my schedule because they all show up when I'm working.

I almost got into a fight yesterday with a man who came into the store to buy an umbrella for his daughter. He refused to even consider the Barbie one because, according to him, she presents a negative body image. I wanted to slap some sense into him but we're not allowed. He tried to trick me into saying bad things about her, but I'll defend Barbie to the death. Barbie is like the hot friend I never had, and I don't think these parents are doing their kids any favors by not letting them have Barbies. Some of these same people have no problem with Barbie's fashionable new competition, Bratz, whose heads are bigger than the entire rest of their bodies. Obviously that's a much better body ideal for young girls to aspire to. At least they're flat-chested. To keep the peace, I told myself that this man was obviously misinformed and had no way of knowing how little girls think. I blame the damn feminists.

I got yet another visit from CrazyPants, an older lady who comes in every day looking for the same pair of pants which we don't carry and never have. I always spend 10 or 15 minutes with her searching for the elusive pants and listening to her chatter. When she's satisfied we don't have them, she bids me farewell and I wave good-bye knowing the search will continue tomorrow. There's always old people coming in looking for things that haven't been produced in decades. One gentlemen came in looking for pajamas made of long underwear-type material because his were wearing out. Hoping to figure out what he was talking about, I asked him where he got his last pair. He told me he got them from the door-to-door peddler and together we estimated that that was around the late 1940's.

I had to postpone my lunch break on Tuesday. I lost my appetite after we caught a couple in their 30's having sex in the men's fitting room. Apparently it's like the mile high club for poor people. I hate thinking about ugly Walmart people having sex! Gross!

Cheeseburger Eddie, who is in charge of store security, recently busted a mother-daughter shoplifting team. The scoundrels stole a suede jacket right out from under my nose. The nerve! I'm always completely oblivious to any illegal activity going on around me. I always mistake the security guard's increased presence in my department as an interest in me, but it's usually all about the thieves. But anyway, just think how much it would suck to have to go to jail with your Mom. This particular duo ended up not getting charged, which is unfortunate, because I especially like when the cops escort them out. It's always interesting and sad to see how they react to the walk of shame down the main aisle, and also the cops are usually hot.

On a questionably more positive note, I finally got an answer to a workplace mystery involving my co-worker Mel. Mel is a nice person, but I wasn't sure if Mel was a nice woman or a nice man. Today I saw Mel come out of the women's washroom. That solved, I don't think there's any potential for me to learn anything new at work.