So the other day, I walked by the Bookstore-Formerly-Known-As-My-Place-of-Employment. I have done this on several occassions, simply because I am curious as to who they’ve deemed worthy of replacing me with. I am sad to say that they have found no one of my calibur . No, I’m not being cocky here, (he, I said cock) I am just being honest. The manager whom customers complained about to me is still employed there- even though I AND my co-fired co-worker mentioned his sexually explicits remarks to the owner. My superiorly-designed window displays no longer decorate the windows, and all the beauteous books I tried so hard to organize are complete chaos.
It happened to be sidewalk-sale weekend, and I peeked in the window to find an unknown clerk working, so I sauntered in to check things out.
The chic working seemed to not know where anything was, there was a line of customers waiting to ask questions, and I found a book on the sidewalk sale tables that we ALWAYS had priced at least $10 marked down to $2. So fuck you, my old bookstore. I bought that book and lost you $8. That’s what you get for firing me!
Anyhoo, later on, I got to thinking about my former life as a Bookstore Bitch, and there were a few things I need to say:
I miss you, my middle-aged blonde lady who read Religious Fiction Mysteries. I appreciate the fact that you would come in every Tuesday to see what shoes I was wearing, and the fact that you were kind enough to comment on the adorableness of my carefully-chosen outfits. I adore you for laying down the law to your sick husband the last week I saw you, saying to him, “I HAVE to go to the bookstore and see what Sparkle is wearing today! You have no idea how cute she is!” Thank you, too, for agreeing with me that my manager was a douche, and for refusing to buy books when he was working.
I miss you, Dino, because you always called me Sweetie, and told me what kind of bird you were painting each week. You were nice enough to hang out for a bit when my scary stalker man wouldn’t leave, and made sure to interrupt him any time he tried to make conversation until he finally left. I am sad that I can no longer keep an eye out for bird books for you, and saddened that I shall no longer get to hear stories of how your Mama-san loves sparkly jewelry from JCPenneys.
I miss you, nice mother, and your 4 beautiful daughters, who would bring in loads of perfect books every month to sell. I believe you are the intelligent equivilant of the Kardashian family, and if you were famous, you and your daughters could run the world. Especially the daughter who read all the sociology books.
I miss you, cute old man suffering from Alzheimer’s. I am sorry that I can no longer be there to talk you out of buying The Politics of James Bond for the 14th time.
To the retired woman with the amazing life- thank you for sharing stories of meeting the king of whatever African country it was you used to live in, and thank you for sharing an excessive love of books with me.
To the mass of lard on a scooter- Fuck you, lady. I know it was you who got me fired, and yes, I will most certainly glare at you in an evil manner every time I see you at Barnes and Noble, because guess what? There ain’t a goddamn thing you can do about it because I don’t work there.
I despise you, my former manager, for your holier-than thou-attitude.. You did not fool me with your “Christian” views, because I saw your true pervertedness every time we got in a book mentioning sex or nakedness. Your paging through said books is not what offended me-no. It was the fact that you made a point to tell me how sinful and evil I was because I live unmarried with my Rockstar. To you I say, Na-na-na-na boo boo. I’m having sex with my Rockstar while your wife is out having a life and NOT having sex with you. So suck on them balls.
I miss you, Money Guy, because we always had great and intelligent conversations daily. I found you to be completely fascinating, since you were retired, yet kept bees, and baked, and counted money, and collected cars. I am sorry you’re stuck with my douche of a former manager as a Son-in-Law, because I know you can never be rid of his annoying self. Thank you also for your recipe for caramel rolls. I still cannot get them to rise.
To the $600+ worth of books I had stashed away in the back room- I am sorry the payraise we were awaiting never came. I regret to inform you that you shall not get to be a part of the Sparklebump’s Library Experience. I hope you all go to good homes where your owners will love you and take care of you properly, without dog-earing your pages.
I guess that’s all I have to say. If any of you are new to my blog, and do not understand where my angsty attitude comes from, be sure to check out my Price of Fame post. XOXO