Still no rejection letter. Dammit, I need to feel dumped on.
Had a fucking moron try to come in to buy Smirnoff tonight. Dude, seriously. Don't hand me an ID saying you were born in '74 while wearing a bad emo 'do and Abercrombie gear so tight I can read the wrinkles on your cock. And for that matter, don't flash your wallet so I see your real ID in the ID pocket. Mind you, you made me $5 bonus, but $5 doesn't get suckie suckie the way it did in the year you tried to convince me you were born in.
Tonight's close ended up being a lick and a promise. Curt tried something new tonight. He did a bunch of really unnecessary shit while I ran a $2000 register. Think he had $400 in drops. Now, he did change the sign, so I can't bitch that loudly. But leaving me alone most of the night to go crack the parking lot ice while the cooler remained unfaced, ice remained unfilled, and a line 4 deep was forming kind of pissed me off.
If I was more paranoid, I'd think he was trying to prove he does more work than me. However, if I'm doing busy work, I'm generally near the front counter or within shouting distance.
Ugh. I have to remember to call John tomorrow and arrange a store to work at Wednesday. I realllly can't afford 3 days off over Xmas.