Don't blame me; I just work here
Oh, dios mio. If I can stay alive for 32 more hours, I will officially be done working here at my place of employment. I thought that you might enjoy this story about my friend, Kristina. Last week, Kristina went into the Body Shop to buy makeup, where she was helped by a man who was himself wearing makeup. After they had found everything that she was looking for, the man asked her if there was anything else that she needed. There was. Kristina had been thinking of buying a scrub/cleanser that is made out of ground up nuts, so she asked the man if they carried a nut scrub. Only after the words had left her mouth did she realize that she had in fact just asked for nut scrub. To try to make it seem more normal, she went into a lengthy explanation of what she was looking for, repeatedly using the words nut and scrub (together and separately). She then purchased her nut scrub and left the store, leaving the salesman with, most likely, the greatest story of his career.
posted by Leighton @ 7:29 AM
3 Comments:
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
She just may have discovered a whole secondary market for Body Shop products. Perhaps Kristina should get royalties.
i wish i could post the sound of my laughter echoing through the lofty-ceilinged environ of my office where i sit in the company of other fellow workers, all too busy reading the websites of their choice to even notice that i just laughed out loud, really loudly.
you gotta love working in an office. or not. loving it is a lie we all tell ourselves to get through the day. and if we don't tell ourselves that lie, then we tell ourselves the other logical lie: it's worth it and soon i will move on and do what i really want.
you, my dear, got the right idea: quit your day job, move to the mountains, breathe in fresh air and spend the days writing. for that, you are my hero. may the rest of us have such an epiphany!
Post a Comment
<< Home