
Busted a tail light yesterday bumping into a fence. Because I am sometimes very productive, I immediately drove down to the Car Parts Store with my brother to fix it.
Normally car fixing is nothing but a chore, but today it was made sublimely entertaining by the girl behind the counter. She had fluffy bleached hair and a few rather sad-looking piercings, but her best accessory was the name badge that said “I promise you service with a smile!” because it was lying. This girl was radiating death wishes upon anyone and everyone.
It wasn’t hard to see why—her coworkers were not ideal. One had gone off shopping or something and didn’t have her phone on her, another kept trying to sneak to the back to make a personal call, a third had another job he had to get to and was already late, and the fourth had just up and left. Meanwhile, Angela Service With A Smile was left fielding phone calls and repair requests, trying to convince Bob Personal Call to come up front so Joe Second Job could go, and answering the dumbass questions of hordes of fucking clueless customers like myself. It’s no wonder she wanted to kill everyone in the world. It was nothing personal. This was not precision hate. It was general, all-encompassing, atom-bomb hate. It was all she could do to be civil to us: though she didn’t say it in quite so many words, the message was clear: “LISTEN, TWINKLE-TITS, I GOT YOUR CAR PART ORDERED AND I’LL CALL YOU NOW GO THE FUCK AWAY YOU ARE ABOUT TWENTY STRAWS BEYOND THE ONE THAT BROKE MY BACK.”
We really couldn’t blame her, though. We have both had days like that. And really, it was rather nice service, as after watching her, bumping a tail light and thus causing $100 to fall out of my wallet seemed like a pretty simple problem.
So you keep truckin’ Angela, and you show those god damn corporate bastards that some days the most you can promise is not so much a smile as a quick and painless death upon your enemies. And I hope your shopping coworker came back.