Creepy Customer of the Day:

Scary Black Man (I’m not racist I’m just giving the facts): What’s your name? Looks at name tag, oh Cassandra, do you know what your name means?
Me: Sigh (thinking, oh here we go), No…
Man: (While holding the hand of his small child, about five maybe). It means a beautiful flower that no one gets to see inside except for once a year.
Me: Awkward laugh....uh huh.
Creepiest. Customers. Ever.

Go Back to the Gutter that You Came From Biatch

If you know me, then odds are you are aware of two things: a) how much I dislike my current job and b) how crazy the people who shop there are.

Today was no exception. I’m walking around the boring department of Seasonal with my good friend Robert when a man and woman, both physically dirty looking, approach me with this week’s flyer inquiring about gazebos. The conversation went as follows:

Lady: (Insert bitchy tone here) There were two gazebos on the shelf when I was here earlier today and they told me I couldn’t get the sale price until tomorrow and now they’re gone. Where are they? They better not have sold when I was told I couldn’t have them for the sale price.

Note: Friday’s are the last day of the weeks sale and the afternoon/evening we activate the deal for Saturday morning, so customers often come in Friday night’s to beat the rush for items they really want. Both of which I told her. Also (and this is most important), she said both gazebos were on the shelf earlier, except the one is so large that is virtually impossible for it to have been in said place. Continuing on….

Me: Well Ma’am we did have this one (pointing to the one for 29.99) on the shelf earlier but I opened it for a customer and it was damaged so I cannot sell it.

Husband: Why were you opening it for another customer if it wasn’t on sale yet?
(Apparently we’re only allowed to let customers see/touch what is not yet on sale and nor any of the millions of other products that do not make it into the flyer).

Lady: They were both on the shelf before and they’re both gone!

Me: The other one does not have a home over there, because it is larger and more money.

Husband: What a scam (in an undertone)

Lady: No, both of these are 29.99

Me: No, this one is (pointing), the other, is larger and 209.99 not 29.99 and we have that one in stock if you want it.

Husband: What a scam.

Lady: This is ridiculous. This store is unbelievable. I was told I couldn’t have it for this price earlier and now its gone, this is fucking ridiculous blah blah (by this point I’ve drowned her words out and Robert and I exchange annoyed looks).

Husband: So you don’t have them even though you had two this morning. What a scam. Thank you.

At this point they depart and the woman is yelling loud obscenities about the quality of the store in general, making customers and fellow employees look at her oddly. And young Spencer in Housewares starts to do a stalky sort of dance as in impression, to which we all laughed of course. We have to get our kicks somehow.

My words will not do justice to the physically and conversationally ugly nature of this woman. To the right is an attempted likeness via my good friend paint (please note the black tooth, this is not for effect. She actually had one). I bet you’re glad that you don’t have to deal with crazies like this at your job. Come on Oakville interviews!

I Love Incubus More than You, A Blog in Dedication to Brett E. Lintott

So last night at Slainte the often humourous and always interesting Brett Lintott told me I should write a blog about why I love incubus more than others (as per my Incubus ring tone on my cell phone). As I am currently out of anything of interest in my every day life to report and no creepy customers because I haven’t been at work for a few days, I decided it would be a good attempt to try and write the recommended topic. Now let me just say first off that I don’t care if you don’t like Incubus. I don’t care if you disagree with me about what I have to say regarding their music, because the below shall be my opinions only and in naïve hopes of preventing a Chris Chambers comment about how he knows more about music and bands than me, I shall reiterate these are my opinions alone, to which I am entitled.

I am not going to spew a long winded history of the band and how they changed drummers a few years ago, the names of their numerous albums because any website could indeed tell you that and probably with more accuracy than I.

My first introduction to the band came about six years ago when a then-friend who was obsessed with music (and my friend Melissa for a time), played me the song, the Warmth from the album Make Yourself (1999). From that point in I took an active interest in their older and since released albums.

I’m not sure I can accurately explain what draws me to this band, of course the beautiful features of band front man Brandon Boyd with his stretched ear lobes and henna tattoos are attractive to look at, their lyrics and variation in songs allow a song for any mood. Allow me to provide some examples:

Thoughtful: I Miss You, Drive, Echo,

Nostalgic: Wish You Were Here, 11am

Angry: Pardon Me, Sick Sad Little Word, Circles

Frustrated: A Crow Left of the Murder, Zee Deveel

Erotic: Are You In

Excellent to sing out loud to: Have You Ever, Privilege, Stellar, Leech

Even in blog form, I feel that my distinct fondness and admiration for this band cannot be accurately described. Their lyrics can be angry, emotional, political and sometimes just rocking out and with the musical styling to back it up. This makes them my band of choice, hands down, no matter how I’m feeling. If you’ve never had the pleasure to see them live in concert (as I have several times) I highly recommend it in conjunction with their general awesomeness in CD and DVD forms. Listen to Incubus, do it right now.

Side note: Brandon Boyd also has a book of art work that is really interesting. It is called Big White Fluffy Clouds, I've always found the art work below extremely intriguing for some reason, check it out if you get the chance.

A Little Hometown Fun
My Recorded Adventures with Julia, no. 2

Yesterday I had the pleasure of discovering that a) Hamilton may not be as boring as I thought and b) you’re never too old to have fun like a kid. My good friend Ms. Julia Wilson and I headed of to the Confederation Park Wild Water Works; it was her first time there in many years and my first time ever, in fact. I highly recommend this summer time activity to all while the chance and weather is still available. Don’t want until you have your own kids and have to worry about running after them wiping their snotty noses before you venture back to this place that I assure you, is not only for the young.

The wave pool is really friggin deep, I was a little surprised at just how much, when Julia decided it would be “fun” to hold on to the bars on the side and ended up almost drowning ourselves, good times. The lazy river kind of smelled weird, but it was nice and calm with a few water falls and sprinklers conveniently located to push your friend’s tube under (which I had the pleasure of doing to Julia various times). The water slides were a lot faster than I remembered too, its funny when you’re a kid you’re so fearless and ready to do crazy shit, but when you’re twenty-two and flying down the water slide you start to fear for your life.

The best part of the water park, for me personally, is the weird people you encounter in your travels. For example, Julia and I saw a bunch of younger teenage kids near us and the one guy was missing teeth. Allow me to put this into perspective for you, I don’t mean a mere one or two teeth, but approximately five or six, the kid had NO front teeth it was like someone (perhaps his father though tragic it may be) took a shovel and knocked them out. It pained me to look at him. The weird thing was that somehow this trailer park kid seems to have had a girlfriend (or she was hanging all over him for just the day, its hard to say for sure). Somehow this guy with no teeth is the equivalent of a Romeo among his friends. How, I ask you is such a thing possible? It’s very unsettling to me that a guy missing half of his adult teeth can get a decent looking girl, is the male selection for girls out there really that slim? Perhaps this guy had a really tremendous personality but considering I heard him utter a phrase to the effect of: “who wants some of this?” I can only assume him to be somewhat of a douche bag and hold it more than likely the reason he lost those teeth in the first place.

The only thing I would have changed about our adventure out yesterday would have been the amount of a) lines and b) children. Both of which, unfortunately in places like that cannot be avoided. I do feel the establishment would have benefited for lines for a certain older age group or perhaps an adult time to have some separation from us and the kids but I’m sure this is unrealistic as it is a child-based establishment. In any event, I say it was an afternoon of aquatic hometown fun for under $20, you can always just knock the kids out of your way.

The Novel vs. the Film: The Inevitable Struggle for Quality in the Midst of Sensationalism

Recently I read the highly acclaimed novel-turned-film, the Devil Wears Prada. Having read the book in its entirety I’m not sure the contents of the novel lived up to the hype, but I digress. Last week, my friend Melissa and I went to see the film. Now of course there’s always the inevitable comparison when one has read a novel to compare its contents to that translated to the big screen, but the changes in this film seemed so blatantly Hollywood-esque and sensationalistic that I could not help myself but comment on it in my small corner or the Internet blogging universe.

A brief synopsis of the story line: A recent university graduate names Andrea takes a job as one of two assistants to one of the most powerful editors of a fashion magazine by the name of Runway. This girl is somewhat homely and rather uneducated in the lifestyle and general ins and outs of fashion. The story revolves around the incessant impossible demands put forth literally night and day by this crazy bitch of a woman and consequently how it deteriorates Andrea’s relationships with her friends, family and boyfriend. Why does she keep the job you ask? Apparently after a year of working for this woman she can get Andrea a job anywhere she wants; in this case Andrea is pursuing the goal of journalist for the New Yorker.

Note: if you do not want to know the end of the movie and/or book please stop reading now.

The novel while found to be somewhat boring in parts, strives to present a realistic view of relationships. However, the movie predictably strives for the “happily ever after” ending. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

My first problem was found at the beginning of the movie when Andrea goes into the office at Runway and presents her boss (Miranda) with a resume for the job. In the novel, this and a small interview is enough to her the job. But in the film, Andrea of course presents one of those heart felt monologues about how hardworking, dedicated and generally how awesome of a person she is that is supposed to make you want to apparently cross your fingers the girl will get the job, which of course she does in both media forms.

While coming to live in the “fashion world” Andrea somehow stumbles upon a “smart hot writer” by the name of Christian, who of which incidentally, is not her boyfriend. In the novel they share a few flirtations and kisses (post break-up with aforementioned boyfriend). In reality, not such a big deal. In the movie Andrea gets drunk with Hot Writer and in her stupor (with of course her guard down because no one can just have sex without the seemingly growing trend of being under the influence of something in movies) they end up sleeping together. The next morning she discovers her dreamboat is in fact in partner with a competing magazine editor in France who are planning to overthrow Andrea’s bitch-ass boss. So of course she has to have regret and guilt post-intercourse, because generally when people have sex in movies it ends up being with extreme regret or on the verge of some sort of life altering news. Please note: NONE of this happens in the book. Why there always has to be some sort of bad guy in movies is beyond me. Moving on…

Towards the end of her one year mark, Andrea loses her shit on her boss and gets fired. She alas, does not achieve her sought after spot at the New Yorker. In the novel and in real life (as this book is based on true events) Andrea has to stick it out on her own and find her unemployed ass a job but miracle of miracles! In the movie, when you treat your boss like crap they still magically seem to step over the angry perhaps spiteful part of themselves and gives her an incredible reference. In a story that makes only one thing clear: this woman is supposed to be the most gigantic bitch on earth. If that is so, why would she magically have a change of heart? Not likely.

Last but not least, after a three year relationship (in the novel) Andrea grows to realize that she has unfortunately grown apart from her boyfriend and they decide to part ways, which has certainly been known to happen in real life. However, once again the ugly face of Hollywood rears its ugly head and the movie version of the couple (despite the fact she slept with someone else mind you!) stay together. I’m interested in the reason that Hollywood always seems to seek out the happily ever ending. Perhaps if more films existed where people didn’t stay together the sixteen year old tweens of future generations would be able to cope more easily with the harsh realization that their lives are not always going to end up with some guy wanting desperately to be with them forever. Call me bitter or crazy if you must (I’ve been called worse), but I believe there should be more room made for reality in movies, especially if the original work warranted such an ending.

Living It Up in the O-Town

This passed weekend I embarked on an experience of which I’ve never had before. I was all set to drive out to Ottawa to head out for a resort in the death defying experience of white water rafting. The trip was arranged by my sister so the trip consisted of myself, my weekend companion and good friend Ms. Julia Wilson and fourteen of my closest acquaintances.

The trip there was off to a rough start when my sister’s moronic boyfriend was two hours late for departure, the reason of which I could only deduce, that he had difficulty putting one foot in front of the other to make it into his car. That aside, Julia and I hit the rode with new friends (and couple) Alie and Chris. Driving up with them was fun, they were friendly, conversational and were able to do what I love most: crack jokes about Brent and another of my sisters incredibly ridiculous and overall bitchy friends, Krista W. (The apparent high school teacher with the social skills and manners worthy of a nursery school student). The car ride was a bit wearing, by the end of the seven hour excursion Alie and Chris’s incessant referral to each other as “babe” practically every time they addressed one another made my want to crawl out the tiny car window. But my confined moodiness aside we arrived at the Owl Resort on Friday around 9:30.

The task of setting up camp came next, and at such a late hour with no fire and obviously no light, we began the crazy task of setting up the tent, while holding our drinks. The tent made it up with sufficient ease (minus one burn hole from Julia balancing the cigarette, but hey it was her tent). Next came the air mattress, because really, who sleeps on the ground anymore? We cleverly (or so we thought) purchased an air mattress with a built in foot pump for quick and efficient set up. Wrong. Never EVER purchase this type of air mattress under the illusion that is ACTUALLY will inflate, as it most definitely will not. Despite these setbacks Julia and I managed to secure our shared love nest for the weekend and get to drinking.

It turned out that there was a big Laurier function at the resort this weekend as well so there was a band each night in the pavilion with kegs and dancing to cheesey 80’s/90’s cover music. After a few drinks it seemed like the best dance party of all time, I assure you. In the cruel light of day, I’m sure not so but nonetheless…

After a late night, the blazing sun of the early morning woke us grumpy ladies up at and early hour in time for the breakfast rush and headed out into the beach complete with paddle boats and an in lake slide. Finally it was time for the rafting portion of the Ottawa adventure.

With the geekiest lifejackets helmets and paddles in tow we boarded a school bus that took us to the Ottawa River. Cut to the hottest rafting guides you’ve ever seen, the boys look like they walked right out of an American Eagle advertisements (although slightly less homosexual looking).

The trip itself was amazing it was about a six hour run down the Ottawa River. We went nose first thought he first rapid and another groups raft flipped right over, our raft was all filled with water and it was awesome. You really have to hold on for dear life and paddle so you don’t fall out. I don’t really feel there is a way to do justice the experience in words. We took a break with the other rafting groups at the half way point and the guides offered us a chance to jump from one of the cliffs beside our resting point. Julia and I both did it and it was crazy! I wasn’t nervous when we climbed up but when the guide said to step down near the edge and I saw the drop my heart leapt a little. But I managed to suck it up and take the plunge (literally). Definitely something I would do again and refer to others.

Our guide Ben, looked and sounded exactly like actor Edward Burns (see the picture to the left, minus the gun of course), the similarities were uncanny. I’m sure this would be considered irrelevant to many of you, but it’s my blog and I’ll do what I want!

The rafting venture ended with a few more rapids and water and awesomeness, we had dinner on a pontoon boat and coasted back to the resort for a viewing of our trip in dvd form and of course, drinking. My sister’s friend Toni who literally makes every male life form fall all over themselves at the wink of her eye, met up with one of the guides, Shane. Shane led their raft and had a very seductive Irish accent.

Shane took us around the secret campground of shanty platform tent houses that the guides live in, but if you think about it, living in a shanty summer dwelling for the summer while you get paid to white water raft all day would totally be worth it. It might just be the sweetest deal of all time job wise, especially coming from the girl who works crappy nine hour shifts and meets random weirdos on her job (as the previous blog clearly indicates).

I’m not sure what the point of this entry actually is, just reminisce over the events of my weekend in the Ottawa River and actually doing something of substantial note this weekend, that everyone should go to the Owl Resort in Foresters Falls and I’m envious of the many people I seem to encounter in my life who have the sweetest jobs ever.

For the rest of the pics of the trip go here: http://public.fotki.com/kcmcbc2/

Crazy Shops Here

You know I’ve worked too long in retail when you decide to devote a blog entry to it. Nonetheless, here I go with one tale of the many crazy people that grace the walls of the ghetto Canadian Tire and one major complaint for the lazy bitches with no manners (I promise to explain this further).

So today I’m walking my usual route of the Sports/Seasonal department when a slightly older looking man with a purple shirt and dirty suspenders stops me. (Note: this isn’t weird to me as they all look like this man in various forms). He asks me for chlorine pucks for his pool, no problem. I show him where they are and he asks for a larger container. My very helpful friend and co-worker Robert offers to check for me. Then the crazy starts:

(For the sake of argument and throwing politically correctness to the wind, let’s call this customer “Crazy”)

Crazy: Do you have any life dreams or goals?
Me: Um...yah.
Crazy: Are you in school?
Me: Yes, I just graduated but I’m going back to school in the fall.
Crazy: Are you interested in investing to make some more money?
Me: (looks at him confused and annoyed)
Crazy: Most people work to live instead of working to have a lifestyle, my friend has a business that if you invest in you can (and here’s where he lost me) buy a pool and jump from your apartment balcony into it.
Me: ????
Crazy: Or have some of those solar garden lights that are so popular
Me: Uh…yah.
Robert returns, finally (yay!) I give him a look that says: this guy is scary and mouth “don’t leave me.”
Crazy: What’s your name? (looks at name tag) Oh Cassandra, are you online?
Me: Yah… I don’t give out my e-mail though… (looking scared).
Crazy: Well you should go to my friend’s website it’s a concept site, nothing for sale on it. (Tells me the name and address which I have already forgotten). He gives me a shanty business card which I threw out. Perhaps I should have kept it for this blog. He also assures me he’d bring me a more recent one next time he’s in the store and to tell my friends, etc. Fannnntastic.

I don’t know why it appeared as though I had any interest in anything this person had to say but apparently I unknowingly walk around with a sandwich board and ringing a bell that only the weirdos can hear.

The second thing happened to me last week that I’ve been thinking about for whatever reason, since then. This cute old man was shopping and he had one of those holes in his throat where you have to hold the voice box up to it to hear him speak. He asked me for something, I can’t remember what, but afterwards he held up his little voice box just to say thank you. Despite the effort it takes him to speak, he still made it to thank me when half of the jerky CT customers don’t even say anything before walking away. Kinda makes you think doesn’t it?