It wasn't a particularly busy or eventful Saturday at work, but there were a few "interesting" customers who stopped by to make all of our lives richer/a living hell.
The first customer I'll profile was a man I nicknamed Fat Hitler, because well...he was an overweight individual who had one of those moustaches that's dark in the middle and light gray on either side, so from far away it looks like a Hitler.
Hey, those of you who read this blog and know me personally, listen up: If I ever, for any reason, start to resemble a hated despot, please tell me. Don't let me go out of the house looking like a dead ringer for Mussolini or Pol Pot. I have enough troubles.
I don't have a pithy name for the next offending customer, so let's just call him The Smelliest Motherfucker in the History of Civilization. Seriously, this guy fucking STANK. Customers were leaving the store to get away from him. Employees were hiding en mass in the back office. This man smelled like every cat in America simultaneously pissed on a landfill. Mother Teresa wouldn't have hugged him. If he died his smell would improve.
Note to my brother: Remember the girl with the horrid sewer-cooter from the Have a Nice Day Cafe? I would rather eat Thanksgiving dinner inside her pussy than ever have to smell this guy again.
So how was your day?