The reason for minimum wage becomes crystal clear

Lane Bryant really needs to reassess its hiring practices. They really ought to. Because I question the intelligence of the minimum wage register-chimps they have employed in their stores.

I bought my first shrugs last weekend. I never thought a shrug would look right on someone with large tits. I mean, let’s face it, the last thing I need is an item of clothing that is specifically made to only cover the largest thing on my body (aside from my head). So you can imagine how enamored I must have been after trying on several shrugs and discovering that not only did they not serve as a gleaming hot beacon of titty love, they actually detracted from the size and shape and did this whole slimming number on my waist.

I was so excited about wearing one of my new shrugs this week. One of the two I bought is this moss-green affair in a lovely light-sweater material with a matching tank top. This is the outfit I chose to wear this morning. So I pull on the tank top, don the shrug, and head to the bathroom to check the whole thing out before leaving. As I’m standing in front of the mirror, tugging here and there for any last-minute adjustments, I notice this strange flash of white underneath my left arm. Thinking I missed some kind of label or sticker, I turn and raise my arm. And there, pinned firmly to my hopelessly adorable, brand-new, paid-for shrug…is a fucking ink tag. An ink tag! Dear god. An INK TAG. On a twenty-dollar shrug. AN INK TAG. Standing in the way of me and my day.

Being that it was 4:45 in the morning, I didn’t have much time or patience to gripe or attempt a self-removal. I stormed back to my bedroom, yanked the whole affair off my body, threw on another top and the second shrug, and dashed out the door. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’m really really pissed. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to return to a store with my merchandise and receipt in hand, demanding that they remove their security devices so I can use my PAID-FOR items in peace. The morning of my parents’ vow-renewal ceremony, my aunt and I had to dash over to the nearest Macy’s to have them remove an errant ink tag, and the clerk gave me a rash of shit over it. Actually told me I should have checked my purchases more carefully before leaving the store. Wha-?

I’m not looking forward to having to go back and get this taken care of. This means I have to spend part of my Friday afternoon or possibly my Saturday morning arguing with a clerk to just remove the damn ink tag and let me on my way. The mall near my house has a Lane Bryant and I can’t imagine that they would turn me away if I had all my shit in gear. So it won’t be this horrible inconvenience. It’s just the fact that I have to be inconvenienced at all. I should never have to return to the store to get security devices removed. Isn’t that what they have those stupid shrill door alarms for? It’s bad enough having to put up with the fucking mall experience. Elbowing my way past gangs of punkass teenagers and rude twentysomethings in their way-too-low-cut denim is insulting and at the very least a trial by fire. But finding that the shop clerks are actually ADDING to the bad experience rather than detracting from it by being complete blinding morons…I finally understand why I do not shop at the mall anymore. I’d rather be fed my own rectum.

I’m praying that I will not be forced to drive all the way back up to Arden Fair Mall to get this taken care of. If that happens, someone is going to hear me roar.

On the bright-and-cheery bonus side…

I highly-recommend this stuff right here. I picked up two cans of it when I was last in Fort Bragg and have been nursing the hell out of it ever since. It’s the perfect pick-me-up early in the morning and a great bedtime treat. Not to mention, it’s the Bumble! Bumbles bounce!

The only downside is that each tin makes only about a half-dozen mugs of cocoa for me, ’cause I drink far more than the recommended serving size on the label (who the hell drinks 6-ounce mugs of anything? I so don’t get that…). But it’s still worth it for the occasional treat. The same company makes quite a few tasty beverages that I’ve indulged in over the years…mostly of the Christmas cocoa variety (peppermint cocoa? TO DIE FOR)…I do very much endorse their stuff. The best place to find the products would be Cost Plus if you have one near you. I think it would be cheaper than ordering directly from the company themselves. Cost Plus is usually a bargain for this kind of thing. That’s how they can get away with raping you on the price of their papasan chairs. Yeesh.

I have a new name at work.

Hamada.

Yes. Hamada. We don’t know HOW or WHY this fellow who sent us an e-mail referring to me came to the conclusion that Hamada and Amanda sound alike…I don’t know that I care to find out. Needless to say, everyone’s found it quite amusing and someone stuck a Post-It on my nameplate outside my office with the “correction.” I guess it beats being called Armondo.