Thursday, November 30, 2006

Cmon baby... just the tip

After a good 1 1/2 month long hiatus from working I've finally got a job. This time I'm doing something completely different from my supermarket gig, which turned out to be too hectic. They always wanted me on time and shit. So I went to Nordstroms to pick up an application. I figured I'd use my boyish charm and charismatic sales approach to sell large amounts of shoes to women who were preferably very very hot and soaking like maple covered pancakes in the nubility of their sexual prime. I really wanted that.

HOT WOMAN: Excuse me sir... you... the strapping young lad with the large pectorial muscles and arms - would you happen to have these in a size 8?
ME: Anything for you my dear. I shall return quickly...
(Returns quickly)
ME: I'm sorry my beautiful, beautiful cherryblossom of muse-like inspiration and bliss, but we do not have that shoe in a size eight.
HOT WOMAN: Oh, you charming young prospect of sexual desire and late night masturbation, the way you walked into that backroom turned me on so much, I nearly forgot about the shoes... Take me, take me young stallion, let me jump upon your harness and take me to a place where I will forget about my husband and four children. I want your horse cock inside me.

I felt I'd be a shoe-in for the job. (Look left, look right, OOH but it hits you anyways...)

So like, I walk into Nordstroms and I'm immediately turned off by the whole vibe. Everything feels so "proper" in a department store. White walls, silver racks, black cashiers with long press-on fingernails that makes it hard for them to pick up my change off the counter, where is my diversity? Where is my color? People tend to work well when surrounded by lots of color. I know I sure do. Most people don't know this but in kindergarten I actually translated the entire Bible from English to Latin, then I did some progressive work on the unification of gravity and electromagnetism. On the contrary, college professors don't decorate their rooms much, and this is why I suck at college.

So I leave and I'm walking by Bath and Body Works when a chic outside asks me if I needed a job. I tell her as a matter of factly I did. I fill out an application, take my interview, and get hired on the spot. Yeah... Bath and Body Works people. Can I get a hell fucking yeah for fragranced lotions?

The sweet part is, I've only been working there for a week and already everybody loves me. I work with a bunch of black and mexican girls, and my management loves me. They treat me like I’m indispensable, and in part I am. It's always good to have a couple straight guys around in a chic store. You never want to be that store where the boyfriend hangs outside while the girl goes in. It's bad for business. Straight guys make other straight guys feel welcome in chic stores.

But all that straight talk aside, I gotta say, my hands and lips have never felt this soft. I think the only time they were this soft, is when I popped out of my mother's womb, because nothing moisturizes better than amniotic fluid. Other than that, I've never felt this soft. My favorite product so far is the C.O Bigelow Mentha Lip Buffer, which has little beads in a cream that you rub between your lips to get rid of dead skin, then you wipe it off and I swear, your lips will never feel softer. I usually follow this up with a Propolene chapstick. I'm still experimenting with my hands.

So the verdict is that I like B&BW way better than Trader Joes. They respect the good work that I do, they pay me 50 cents more, and all I really do is stand around with and smile and make sure everything is stocked. And the one obligatory gay guy that works there turns out to be my and he's really cool. He's one of those happy gays. But not in a queer way, more like a happy way. He must get alot of butt-sex and I say more power to him. I'm all about people having sex.

Wait, I totally just thought of something... Without sex, none of us would be here... Wooah... Wooooah.... Have seeex... Haaave seeeex...

Put it in her buuuttt...