The Customer is always an Asshole

(If you don't know where that line came from, I suggest you watch Mallrats).  But I digress...


I was reading Cosmo the other day.  Don't judge me- it was at the gym- someone left it on the elliptical.  (Obviously I am a serious athlete).  I thought, "They have a career section in Cosmo?  No fucking way."

It kills me that those stupid magazines have a "career" or "work" section.  They always show a model dressed scantily clad in a sexy skirt and Sarah Palin glasses looking seductively at a hot, sometimes shirtless, male co-worker. 

Really?  First off, no one dresses like that for work, even if you work in an office.  Second, most 18-40 year olds in America don't work in a luxury penthouse suite that looks like the setting for a bad porn.
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I've had the pleasure of working 28 jobs in the last 10 years.  No, I am not a job whore.  I'm a young professional looking to accumulate a vast array of experiences in different fields.  OK, maybe I am a job whore.  But seriously, not only have I learned some important skills ("That DVD is due back Tuesday by midnight"), but I've learned how to deal with customers.  I've also learned how stupid people really are.

The following are an accumulation of not only my experiences, but those of my family and friends too.

Working in an IT department, we get called daily to go fix computers and other technology issues.  This woman called and I answered the phone.  She informed me that her keys were gone from her keyboard.
"You mean some were ripped off?  Is anything else messed up?" I asked, thinking the night cleaning crew may have knocked something over.
"No, they are all gone!" she said.
Not wanting to really walk all the way down there, I decided to send one of my socially inept co-workers who was deeply engrossed in some sort of computer game.
"Hey, Aaron, I hate to interrupt the battle between the level 15 wizards and zwinkies, but would you take this extra keyboard to Missy in 315?  She says her keys are missing....I think a few must have gotten knocked off."
He returned no more than 3 minutes later with the same keyboard I sent him with.
"What was wrong with it?" I asked.
"The keyboard was laying face down, so I turned it key-side up.  The keys reappeared!"

Ah, the challenges of modern technology.

A few years ago, I worked at Abercrombie and Fitch.  I still wonder what sadistic bastard decided to start sales the day after Thanksgiving at 4 am.  Seriously, what does that have to do with the birth of Jesus or Hannukah?  I'm sure Jesus, Moses, David, and the apostles are looking down on us and so proud that their legacies mean a 27 inch plasma TV at Walmart for $59.99.
    So there I was, the line of over-tanned, spoiled teenagers and their indulging parents was out the door and there was only one other cashier besides myself on.  Now, there are also those hillbillies who give their milking cows a day's rest twice a year and come into the mall to do their bi-annual shopping.  In front of me stood once such character and his brood.  He was holding a few garmets of clothing.
    "Are any of these here made in America?" he asked.
    "Well, sir, I believe most are made in Korea or China," I replied.  "What does that one say?"
    "It says 'Made in Malaysia."
    "There you go," I said.
    "So is that made in America?" he asked.

(I had to get my manager on that one).

In high school, I worked at a pool in Indiana.  Indiana is one of the fattest states in the country.  Yes, you can guess where this is going.
    One fat kid was playing a little too close to the gutter and he got his leg stuck in it.  We pushed.  We pulled.  We wedged things.  All to no avail.  Me, being resourceful, suggested we get some butter from the concession stand.  So we slathered him down, oiled him up, and four of us removed him from the death grip of the gutter. 

Then he went and ate a snickers.  (Welcome to America).

    When I worked at the gym, it was my job to take the comment cards, reply to them, and take any serious suggestions or concerns to management.  Some of my favorites:

"Please put seatbelts in the hot tub.  The jets cause me to move."  (We are right on it.  The iron from the rust will be like vitamins, giving our bacteria-laden fungus pool a spa-like feel.)

"Please tell this woman to stop walking around the women's locker room naked.  It's offensive."  (No problem, I'll have her get changed in the basketball courts).

So yeah, maybe I've had more jobs where I've had to wear khaki pants and logo shirts than Versace and Louboutins, but I know if I keep working hard enough and follow Cosmo's great career tips, I'll work my way up the corporate ladder in no time!

Then, I'll seduce my shirtless co-worker in the break room.