I’m fifty dollars richer than 10.59am today, and I can’t seem to tell for what. I have the most redundant job ever – helping promote cups and miscellaneous bits of expensive French porcelain. And seriously? Me with something that has FRAGILE written all over it (and in some cases, literally)?
Anyway, it doesn’t take an idiot to know how much cups cost and what designs are suitable for what ages – not that I didn’t try, of course.
Customer picks up pink floral cup: Wow, this one is nice.
Me: Yeah – uh, it’s a good gift for, um, girls.
I played the OCD Game a million times today, but there’s only so much you can do with cups and plates, like turning the cup handles all facing the same direction, and making sure the motif on the plates are the same way up for all 48934532 of them, etc etc. It’s not fun anymore when the OCD Game is the main thing that’s earning you the money, instead of just a sidetrip to keep your mind off it. I don’t even get commission so I don’t bother ravenously pouncing on cup-partial people, shoving my cute cup designs down their throats.
In better news I like punching my card, it makes that awesome sound like a cash receipt being printed – which is only too apt.