Facebook secret code...fake code.

Bring me tickle me Elmo or the wrath of God will come upon you and your family! Ok, the lady I saw at Target today wasn’t that bad, but I thought she was a minute away from pimp slapping the Target employee that said they were sold out of some toy. The women argued that two days ago she was told they had ‘plenty’ and couldn’t understand how now they have NONE! It was like a five year old trying to understand how Marty Mcfly could interrupt the time space continuum. Hell, I still don’t get it.

So I decided that this woman needed to be gently introduced to a little something called equally irrational. I followed her to the checkout line where she was still venting about the incompetent target employees to someone on the phone. After she got off the phone I pretended to take a phone call that had some crucial secret information. Taking careful note of the woman’s age (45 or so) and her failed attempt to be trendy I knew I needed to hit her where it counts, her inflated sense of herself.

The fictional one way phone conversation went like this…’Honey, what was that secret password posted on facebook to get the 50% off discount at Target? So you are telling me all I have to say is “I am a secret santa shopper”? So If I say ‘I am a secret santa shopper I will get 50%’? Its 3:55pm so the deal is only good for 5 more minutes, I better hurry’. Hook line and sinker…bitch.

I then snuck out of line and took up a great viewing point a lane over and just watched the awesomeness unfold. So she tells the check out women the ‘secret code’ and she just looks at the lady like she is nuts. Once the total comes the woman starts to question why she isn’t getting the facebook secret code discount. I am about to pee my pants. After a minute of bewilderment the cashier calls over a manager. The manager tries to explain to the woman that they have never run a promo anything like that. But I am the ‘secret santa shopper damn it’. About ten minutes go by before the humiliated woman storms out and the employees and surrounding customers get a good chuckle ‘no I am the secret santa shopper, no I am!’

You have been irrationalized.

What Came First, The Fat or the Stool?

So I guess it is time to offend some people. I will not apologize for stating the obvious, and do suggest that if you are offended by what I am about to say you need to drop a few pounds.


As many of you know I have been working retail the past several weeks, the location will remain nameless to protect the innocent, and my job. Some of my shifts last as long as nine hours, all of which are spent on my feet. At no time am I allowed, let alone given, a stool to sit on between helping customers…or worse while helping a customer. We all saw the trouble George Costanza got into by getting a rocking chair for his security guard friend.

Let the offending beginning…Who the hell thinks it is a good idea to give the cashiers at Target stools to sit on while ringing up guests? I watched in horror the first time as the cashier struggled to reach for the bottle of Tide that was inches out of her reach. You would think that standing up would have been an easy solution, but instead I watched for seconds as she tried to lean further and further just barely able to touch the bottle with her fingers. Then the worst part, she stopped, leaned under the register and grabbed a hanger to use as a hooking device to lure the bottle closer. Finally dragging the bottle to her she was so out of breath I considered calling for help.

Now you might say…’Well Adam, maybe she has a medical condition that she can’t stand’. I considered this and was maybe willing to let her off the hook, until her manager came by and told her she could go on break. You would have thought she was about to finish the 100 yard dash with as fast as she moved. She was in line at the Target snack shop before I had put all my bags into my cart.

So yes, she probably does have some medical condition that makes it hard for her to stand…it’s called being obese. The frightening part is all three cashiers in the express lane looked the same. I wonder if that physical demeanor is a prerequisite for the job. The real question is what came first…the fat or the stool? If you give someone an excuse, no doubt they are going to take it…Yeah America!