The Land of Milk and Honey

Ah, glorious Sun Diego, finally living up to my weather-wise expectations. Of course, I had to enjoy today's 75 degree weather from inside the Lingerie Department. No one was shopping today. Why would they? They were out enjoying the amazing sun and balmy breezes of America's Finest City, just as I would have been doing had I not been waiting to humiliate unsuspecting shoppers.

I was supposed to have a real chance at molesting a group of women this evening. I'd made an appointment for a "girlfriend party" to pre-sell bras for the big Fit America event at the end of the month. A customer was going to bring in three friends to be fitted.

I was going to put them in Mad Men-style bras to haul those giant bazooms up to chin level and then sell them each 300 dollars' worth or more of pointlessly expensive Chantelles and try to get them to buy underwear, lingerie wash, mesh laundry bags, pajamas, and robes as well. I worked all morning, then left with no lunch so I could come back in to work in the evening and party with these ridiculous people.

I got back to work at 6:30, a half-hour before my appointment, ready to wheel and deal. Actually, I was ready to whine and complain, which I did the entire time I was waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

The lousy bitch never showed. Her friends never showed. I wasted gas and perfectly good Manhattan-drinking time. So nice of the sweet girl to fuck with someone's livelihood like that.

FYI: If you're thinking about fucking with people who work in retail, don't. They're just trying to pay their rent like everyone else. And today I got screwed out of two hours' pay and who knows how much commission.

The Lingerie Department ain't all squeezin' tits and trying to get lacy panties unsnared from their plastic-toothed hangers, kids.