A Doormats Daily Diary
It's me, Doormat.
I let people walk on me. I have come to the sad realization that even when I get all pissed off, and I want to explode on someone, I cannot form the words, and I end up stuttering like a goddamn freak of nature.
2 weeks ago I went into a local department store where I wanted to pick up a new perfume, unfortunately the perfume cabinet is behind glass, and the glass is locked.
I was told to 'hold on', and even got the oh-so-polite eye roll.
The woman than proceeded to help everyone else who was on line AFTER me.
I sat there for a good 20 minutes (that's another thing I hate about myself, I'm too damn patient) while the imaginary film played in my mind. In my mind I pictured myself walking up to her and saying: 'hello, the damn case is not going to open itself, care to give me a key, so I can do your job for you?'
Instead I walked away, heart thumping and pissed off as all hell. I wanted to find a manager! I wanted to tattle on this rude employee. Someone else could use her job, and someone else would actually work. She on the other hand apparently thought too highly of herself to be working in the perfume department.
I found a manager, and here's what came out:
'Duh I-I-duh... your employee over in perfume didn't open the case for me... duh...I..I... asked ...help... ignored...helped everyone else before me waiting...20 minutes... duh...rolled eyes...du-uh...
God Dammit! Exactly what I didn't want to happen. On paper I could of worded what I needed to say perfectly, but my mind was racing faster than my stubby little tongue could handle, and instead of making her look like that bad employee, I ended up looking like the psycho retarded mental issues customer. Crap.
So here I was, standing in front of the manager, who's left eyebrow was clearly raised. I could read his thoughts, he was saying. 'Man what a psycho this lady is'.
He then asked me if I wanted him to open the case for me.
I went in for one last stupid jab.
'No, I'm going to buy it at the store across the street. I'll also be writing a letter to the coperation'.
My face was hot, my tongue became lethargic. I felt defeated and useless.
I wrote a letter to corp, and obviously the store manager already contacted them about the 'stuttering retard', because a day later I got a ridiculous automatic response. 'Sorry for bla bla bla...
Damn. No $10 gift card for me.
Another time when I want to be all hardcore is when someone cuts me on a long line.
A few days before XMAS I found myself waiting on a huge line in KBTOYS. The store was having a 75% off store closing discount and naturally I tried scooping up every toy I could for my niece's and nephews.
I'm on line, about 30 people back. In front of me is standing a large woman with about 4 or 5 toys in her hand. As we are about to finally get to the check out lane, the large woman suddenly is greeted by someone else. Apparently a friend, relative, or neighbor.
I over hear this newcomer saying how ridiculous the lines are... bla bla... before I knew it I was being cut off by fatsos friend, who has around 10 or so bratz dolls in her arms.
I proceeded to cuss the line cutter out, to tell her to go to the back of the goddamn line. There are no free passes, and I don't give a rats ass how you are related to fatso. Get to the back.
Here's what came out:
"Scuse me, you just --jus--duhh---
The prick looked at me with the same frigging raised eyebrow. Yep, I was once again, the stuttering retard. GOD DAMMIT! What's wrong with me!?
I watched as the cow took her sweet time (in front of me- the asshole with no balls whom she cut) complaining about prices to the sales clerk, all the while in my mind I was painting the perfect picture... in my minds eye, I am ripping this woman's hair, spitting in her face, and teaching her a thing or two about line etiquette as I drag her fat bottom all the way to the back of the line, next I kick her in the stomach, than wish her a merry mother fuckin Christmas.
Another infamous incident happens all of the time when I'm out shopping at Walmart.
Walmart for some reason seems to be the store where all the rude classless bastards shop.
Whenever I'm in there, I always make sure to push my cart to the side to allow other shoppers to pass by me. Unfortunately the courtesy is never returned.
Now as I'm sure many of you know Walmart always has these killer 50% deals after Xmas. They usually gather up all of their unsold Christmas items and shove them sloppily into 2 isles. These 2 isles are like death though, because you can never get down them, and your cart will never fit.
I always leave my cart down at the end of the isle, just so I can pass by all of the housewives with booger slurping kids in carts.
Last week while attempting to cruise my way down an isle on foot (no cart in hand), I had one extremely obese woman plop her cart right smack in the middle of the isle, and to make matters worse, she then proceeded to literately sit on the goddamn floor to examine things on a bottom shelf.
I mean obviously she went and found herself a pile of delicious chocolates on sale, and figured she had to have it all... no one else could have any. She made that clear by the way she blocked the isle.
I proceeded to tip toe my way around this Hanes wearing piece of greedy trash; and instead, she looks up and me and says : You could just say excuse me- Gez some people!
She then huffs and she puffs and she wiggles her large ass back and forth in order to get balance before placing her two stubby wobbling feet on the ground.
I took out my magical paint brush again, and in my mind I say:
"Look Quasimodo, I was politely trying to tip toe around your nest. It is quite clear you set up camp, and seriously... are you going to sit there and act like you didn't see me waiting to get by. I only began to tip toe around your large body when you decided to ignore me, and everyone stuck behind me for the past 5 minutes! Holy hell, have a cookie, calm down biggie."
Then I take my fist, slam it into her face and rip out her flesh, and chocolate ooze begins to pour from the wounds. She bleeds pudding and cries tears of cubed sugar. Bwhahaha!!! Now move yaw fat ass!
Want to know what came out instead? Nothing.
I pretended not to hear her. I'm such a goddamn wuss. I knew she could sit on me, and likely beat the crap out of me if she wanted to. Clearly though I'd have the upper hand. I could outrun this one.
Another incident when the pussy in me took over, happened today, and this is why I'm writing about it, because I'm seeing a scary pattern. I need to get stop being such a wuss!
Today I'm looking out the office window. Since I started working here there has been this killer screw that has stuck up out of the sidewalk. The screw is where the town garbage pails are supposed to be placed.
Sometimes though when they dump the pails, they don't always screw the pail back into it. So naturally the screw is poking up out of the cement, just waiting for unsuspecting idiots to walk by and trip over it. It's pretty easy to spot though seeing that it sticks up out of the sidewalk a good 6 inches or so.
Some though are too occupied on cell phones, and they miss the screw and trip over it.
I watch it happen all of the time, and frankly it's the only friggin entertainment I get around here. I get to watch people take a fumble, and then I watch as the idiot examines the screw; baffled by its presence.
At any rate though, most people just walk by the thing after they realize they are at fault and should be paying attention.
Today though I have this one jerk take a fall. Face covered in wet cold snow, red as a tomato, and boy did he looked pissed.
I was dying inside though. I was laughing so goddamn hard I nearly pissed myself. I haven't seen one take a full fall in all my time. Usually it's just a little trip. This one though was special, hehe, this one actually fell. HAH! Oh, that had to hurt!!!
The idiot, like all idiots before him, examines the screw sticking up out of the ground.
Maybe he had some life altering fall, who knows?But instead of going on his merry little stupid way, he comes huffing into my office, and he's not very happy. Obviously he caught me staring, and trying to hold back tears of laughter.
"You're going to pay for my dry cleaning!" idiot says.
Um... what? Oh.My.God, what a frigging moron. Is this fool serious. He better shut the hell up before I smack his teeth.
'My clothes are wrecked!!! Just look at them!!! I tripped over the screw sticking out in the sidewalk! That's your pail correct!!!???!!!'
(The paintbrush is coming out...)
I'm still laughing inside though, and cannot paint clearly at this moment.
I tell him that the pail, and the screw in the ground is town property, and anything on the sidewalk is not ours, but the towns.
He then asks for the towns number.
(Yeah lemme just call 411 and ask for TOWN yah stupid ass)
I begin to drift; his face at this moment is just too pathetic for me to want to look at. I cannot take this idiot seriously...I begin to paint...
I'm painting the perfect picture of my hardcore comeback. In my mind I say:
'look, you were stupid enough to trip over it, and stupid enough to come into my office demanding money for dry cleaning...and you want the phone number to the town. You stupid simple minded moron. Do I look like your personal fucking directory, step on up outta my office jackass!!!'
Instead I say : 'Sorry, but I don't have the number, it may be on the pail. Are you okay?'
God, what the hell is wrong with me!? ARE YOU OKAY! Please, I could honestly give two shits if you cracked your ass bone. You were a form of entertainment, now your show is getting old. Peace out.
Anyhow, I have come to realize that I have absolutely no ball sack whatsoever. I know I'm a girl, and we supposedly are catty... not me though. I'm the giant doormat. Care to wipe your feet?
I wish they had classes for doormats. You know, like one on one training. Somewhere where I could go to find help in making my minds painted pictures a reality. Somewhere to grow a sack. Clearly I have a problem.