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"Go back to the shadow! The granny panties shall not avail you!"
2003-02-06 - 7:39 p.m.


Now, as I was hanging out with my sister last month, we began to hurl British obscenities at each other. Because sometimes British swear words are much more fun than the standard American ones. Also, we discovered it is very much fun to say 'Harry Potter' in said accent.

So one side of a possible conversation might sound something like this:

"Bugga' bly me bloody 'ell guv'nor 'Arry Potta you wanka!"

Hehe. Of course I am a stupid stupid American that these things should amuse me.

Anyway, today at work, as I was sitting in a stockroom counting hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of kids' socks, I began talking to myself. I think I said "bloody 'ell!" several times. In fact, the electronics manager, upon passing through the stockroom, looked at me funny and asked if I was okay, as I was probably staring at some Scooby Doo socks in a very quizzical manner. I smiled and said yes. He asked me if I was sure. I said I thought I was. Five minutes later he walked back in with my own dear (or not) apparel manager girl. She assumed her fake caring tone of voice and asked me if I was okay. I smiled and said yes.

I'm sorry but I never had Scooby Doo socks when I was little and I thought they were pretty spectacular. I was simply wondering why I was cursed with such a traumatic childhood as to never have had Scooby Doo socks. Why is this so hard to believe?

Inventory was today, obviously. There was a horde of people there from Granny-Panty-Counters-R-Us that went through and counted every single goddamn thing. And then we had to go through it all and double check their counts. Of course, this idea seems silly to me. Why should you make me be at work at 7 AM when you're already paying somebody else to be there? Oh the silliness. And to top it off, at the crack of dawn I was forced to start with counting the jewelry. The jewelry counter scares me. I had my grimy little hands all over $400 necklaces. If I ever decided to resign myself to a life in the icicle mines and I sold myself to Antarctican slave trading pirates I would not fetch such a price. Granted these are Sears necklaces... yeah okay then maybe I'm worth two.

But still. It was traumatic. I set off the alarm three times. I have a phobia of alarms going off as I go through them. Like the time I tried to walk out of the library on campus with a book that hadn't been scanned right. All the frat boys looked up from their "studying", wondering what kind of humongous geek would actually try to steal a book!

Anyway, so yeah. Today I counted stuff all the damn day. And I get to go to work tomorrow and put all the stuff back on the high racks that I had laboriously moved yesterday. I think tomorrow when I'm doing that, if a customer should dare to get in my way whilst I am so thoroughly engrossed, I'll take two racky hook things, slam them together, and say:

"You shall not PANTS! I mean pass! I mean, get the bloody 'ell outta my way, you wanka!"

Hehe. I lead an outrageously exciting life.

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