Bastards....

I don't call myself Miss Rant for nothing!

Today I'm working at my secondary job which is retail, nice little boutique in the heart of Kitsilvania. And other then the grammar, the only other thing wrong in that sentence was "Heart of Kitsilvania".

As hard as I try to give people the chance to be friendly, I am constantly reminded that as I stand behind the cash desk Iam surrounded by assholes.
They could give a shit if my Hello was "Kiss my Ass" or "Get the Hell Out", and they have just as much respect for the clothes on the racks as they do a donut in the dirt. ZERO!

If I don't write the occasional rant about this then I know it would be certain that I'd explode! My eyes would start shooting fire bombs! Ahhhh! That feels much better.

Those poor clothes, I best be off to rescue them from their world of entanglement...before the next customer, good or bad enters my store!