So I’m feeling pretty damn pleased with myself. I managed to get a whole three floors of adults to look for gold pirate booty, and dress like pirates. Yeah. I’m awesome. And I keep hearing excited squeals all around the floor as people find coins, or see the people dressed like crazy pirates. And I have temporary tattoos, of skulls and crossbones on me, which is pretty awesome all on it’s own.
I think I’m going to call Project: Pirate Friday a success. Mostly because people keep walking past my desk in newspaper pirate hats, and that’s about all I wanted to achieve with my life as a kindergartener.
Also, today I went and brought the most comfortable slouchy sweater in the world, along with a bunch of work clothes. I brought the sweater out-right, but put the work clothes on lay-by becaues I try to delay gratification when it comes to buying stuff. Also I can’t really spend more than $50 a fortnight on clothes, because it would make my budget implode, and my Personal Banker’s brains fall out of his ears. (It’s a hazard of having a Personal Banker.)
Anyway, So I was having a great time chatting with the sales lady as she navigated the dark and scary waters of her first lay-by. Meanwhile a line of disgruntaled lady shoppers grows behind us. Initially it was easy to ignore them bitching about the terrible service, but when they started being rude to the ladies who worked there I got all annoyed. So I slowed down. I picked a impulse purchase necklace. I asked the manager if she was doing anything fun for the weekend. I changed my contact phone number. Three times. I keyed in my pin number as slowly. As. Possible.
Then as I left I thanked ladies at the counter and turned around, only to find the idiotic ladies complaining about how long it was taking to buy the single shirt they had picked standing there with faces like cats-asses. And guys? They were TOTALLY old. As in, old enough to know better. I mean, you go shopping at a discount store, during the lunch rush… What did they expect??
So I put my eyepatch on, smiled at them, and told them to have a good day, as I wandered out with my big slouchy weekend sweater. I think I might have flashed them the tattoo on my chest too.