So Much Worse Than Billy Bass

What the fucking fuck is this and why is Big Bookstore selling it?

Bad Blogger

Sorry I haven't posted in forever. The new day job is kicking my ass. On the plus side: hot Coasties.

Shove This Apple Straight Up Your Ass

I don't even know where to begin this rant. How about this? I hate teachers. With a few exceptions, they are smug, self-entitled, rude, and cheap. Also, they are complete fucking pigs.

Twice a year, Big Bookstore offers a special discount to teachers over a three-day weekend. Today was the start of that weekend. Every time we hold this event, I am amazed anew at the scum to whom our society entrusts its children.

These are the things that I have learned about teachers.

1. They are, as I say, complete fucking pigs. Not only do they not know how to pick up after themselves, they actually seem to seek the maximum destruction of whatever section of books they are browsing. One teacher, in her quest to purchase one (1) children's dictionary, removed every single dictionary, and left them in five different places. Some were on nearby shelves. Some were on a nearby table. Some were shoved into fixtures a couple of feet away. And yet more were abandoned on her way to the register. Not content with removing one copy of each type of dictionary, she removed multiple copies of the same dictionary in her effort to eliminate Big Bookstore's slight profit margin through maximizing the resulting bookseller labor. Similar zones of destruction could be found in virtually every corner of the store.

2. They are freeloaders. Although we provided them with free food from the Cafe, and a hefty discount, several teachers complained to me and my colleagues that we didn't have enough freebies. One teacher spent five minutes telling me and my manager how upset he was that he didn't arrive in time for the raffle. He had been told over the phone that he would have until 9 p.m. to enter, when in fact, we did the raffle at 7 p.m. He went on and on and on about how he missed out on this because he was misinformed. You might have thought, listening to him, that we were giving away fabulous prizes -- perhaps, the Compact Oxford English Dictionary, or a nice DVD boxed set -- when in fact we raffled three gift bags containing approximately ten dollars worth of candy.

3. Like other civil servants, they have big dreams that they are too dull-witted and lacking in ambition to realize. Every Teachers' Weekend the small business, real estate and e-commerce sections are ravaged and the books redistributed in piles about the store. The teachers dream of starting their own money-making enterprises, which will free them from the triviality and futility of their miserable lives. They will never actually do these things.

4. They feel they are ugly, (and in this, they are largely correct). The Appearance section was completely trashed. I found several different piles of books on cosmetic surgery in different places and at different times throughout the evening.

5. They hate their jobs. Piles of career-changing and job-hunting books are a staple of the Teachers' Weekend destroy-a-thon. One pile of books I cleaned up tonight included, among other career-related titles, Great Jobs for English Majors. I've got news for you, assholes. It's too fucking late. You could have majored in something practical. You could have gone to a real grad school instead of getting a teaching certificate. You could have even learned a trade. You lacked the imagination or ambition back then, and I highly doubt you've gained either trait since.

So, anyway, I hate the teachers. They can all kiss my big fat ass

Too Mean

I was introduced to the friend of a co-worker last night. Mimi introduced me this way: "This is [Disgruntled Bookseller]. She's the one who writes the blog." The friend responded, without a moment's hesitation, "Too mean."

I do hope that the readers of this blog understand that the blog is written for a purpose. It's called Disgruntled Bookseller, for Christ's sake. Obviously it has a point of view. And that point of view does not necessarily reflect the totality of my life or my personality. No, it merely reflects the frustrations, and also the joys, generated by my part-time job as a bookseller (and now part-time barista).

I am many things besides a bookseller. I am a loving daughter, sister, and aunt. I'm a good friend to the many people who are kind enough to bestow their friendship upon me. I'm the overly indulgent human being of two coddled felines. I'm a competent lawyer.

Sometimes I am perceived as "mean" to my co-workers at Big Bookstore. Not true. I am impatient. I am demanding. I am emphatic and forceful. I expect everyone to work as hard and as consciensciously as possible. I don't think that's unreasonable. Nor do I think it's mean.

As for the customers, I am as nice to them as they are to me. Often more so. I'd have been fired long ago for poor customer service if I responded to customers with the same level of (non)courtesy that they often tender to me. And that is why, instead, I write about them on the blog.

I like to think of myself as a kind, generous, and charitable person. Sure, I'm assertive and loud and have a tendency to take control of situations. But I am fundamentally nice. I am never mean without provocation or reason, solely for the sake of being mean. If that were the case, well, then this blog would be called "Disgruntled Human Being," no?

(Note to Mimi: Sorry I missed the Going Away Bash. I slept all day. Also, I was surfing the crimson tide, and damn if the sea wasn't rough. Pitiful excuses, I know.)