I realize dry cleaning is an expensive thing to get done. I know you, dear customer, may not have been banking on the tax being so high but we also have to pay environmental fees to the state. I know you are short only a few dollars, and that you are going to be coming back to pick up all these items you just dropped off, but I still have no way of telling the computer system, "Oh yeah, he's gonna cover that difference next time." Even if you were a Speshul Snowflake, and even if I happened to care, the computer does not. You have now thrown our counts off.

Now, if it was one order, I'd be more understanding. But you were picking up FIVE invoices worth of stuff. I wouldn't have so much of an issue with you if when I offered to hold back one of the five for you to pick up next time, you didn't ask in an indignant tone, "Why?" Why? Cause you. Don't. Have. The. Money. I'm a fucking cashier. A glorified one cause I do invoicing paper work too, but a cashier. My entire job centers around telling people the cost of this service and getting it from them. You don't run up a tab here like a bar. Some bars don't even do that anymore cause of issues with mofos. You can pay ahead. You cannot pay retroactively without me having to type up a bunch of buggery to trick the system and still tolerating off counts.

Oh, and that shirt you complained about WAS starched. Get over it. Nothing holds it's shape that stiffly unless it's been starched. And don't continue to grumble even when I offer to send it back, cause hey, redos are free cause we're oh so nice like that. If I had sent it back, I'd have been spared the off numbers that I have to explain to the manager.

And I'm soooooo not going to be happy when I have to modify and reprint your invoice next week when they fail to get the stains out. They were expansive enough that I don't think the cleaning plant is even gonna attempt it. FYI, don't let small children use your expensive cloth items as a canvas when they get their hands on crayola markers.

Be nice to your drycleaner. They literally handle your dirty laundry.

So this is a twist on my usual no receipt no return stories....

Dear College Girl:

I'm sorry you don't remember why you bought this or that you were drunk when you bought it but... no receipt... store credit by mail. I gave you an option of seeing if we could look it up by your credit or debit card but you insisted that you must have paid cash. No... I can't trace your cash. No... not even if you have all the numbers memorized. We always give receipts unless you tell us to trash them. I suggested several times that if you wanted your money back then you need to find your receipt and you were allowed to go home and re-look. Telling me that the only thing you remember last night was opening the fridge is not going to make me give you your full refund.

Next time don't go shopping when drunk,

Ropemaker

Dear Non-Citizen Visiting from Just Over the Border,

Usually you guys are really nice (you as a country I mean). You were just silly. You wanted to pay for with your credit card. Good. Oh wait, your card isn't signed. Do you have your ID with you? No... Any cards with your name on it?... No... That's the problem. I can't allow you to purchase your $15 worth of items without manager approval now. Don't yell at me that you aren't stealing your card. You have a few red flags so please be happy that we are making sure the card really isn't stolen. One: You're international. Two: You left your ID in the car when you're from over the border. Three: You're getting really upset about $15. Being international isn't a problem but when there are fishy things with your card, we tend to look closer to make sure the card is not stolen. Lucky for you my manager wasn't going to make you walk all 10 feet to your car to get your ID.

Have a great rest of your day,
Ropemaker

P.S. I bet you every store you went to asked for your ID. I bet you didn't take my manager's advice to go grab it before you continued shopping.

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/2009/11/sunday-secrets_29.html

PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people
mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a postcard.








HopeLine Fundraiser on twitter this Thursday. Tell
your friends & follow @postsecret for more details.



















-----Email Message-----

Dear Frank,

Sunday I was with my boyfriend (we are both young Christians). I grabbed his laptop to go to the postsecret website. As I typed in the postsecret address the computer filled in the url with a pornography website.

I used my boyfriend's laptop again to look up postsecret and the computer filled in the url with recently visited sites about pre and post nuptial agreements.

In my attempts to read other people's secrets, I discovered his.

















Order Your Copy Today

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/2009/11/postsecret-events-incomplete.html

11-30-90
DeNaples Center
Scranton, PA
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12-4-09
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Become a PostSecret "Fan" on Facebook
for PostSecret Event updates (dates & schools).

http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pvponline/~3/eOKegHiH_l4/

http://www.pvponline.com/?p=5193

From: Cole Richards
To: PvP Subscriber List 1
Subject: Attention Humans: Sale Extended

Dear fellow primates,

My name is Cole Richards and I am writing very innocently to inform you that our Black Friday sale at www.pvpstuff.com has been extended to Monday, November 30th. Instead of offering you a sale for one day, we are offering you a sale for three days.

This is something we are doing to be nice to you. This is not a plot by a superior being to undermine our company in his first step towards the eventual domination of our entire race. So please feel free to take advantage of our savings and do not consider the long-term consequences of your actions.

Enjoy the remainder of your pathetic lives holiday weekend.

Sincerely,
Cole Richards (not secretly a cat)

Whatever it is it feels a lot bigger than it used to be, which means in my family someones invested in it so its unprofitable.

money in this shitty business...

Last week, me and one of my friends were talking about how we were glad to only have three days of school this week, having off for Thanksgiving, and the day after. In this middle of the conversation, she stops by saying,

"Wait, why do we have off Thursday? I'm pretty sure Thanksgiving falls on a Friday this year."

*facepalm*

I bought several demolition and racing games for my computer. I'm running XP downgraded from Vista. I have a video card and all that happy horse shit. None of the games will work. One refuses to recognize any control, one won't install, and one won't start. WTF?? Is my computer some sort of old lady who doesn't like action games, and what should I do??

Recently been reminded of this one:

Three female friends of mine shared a flat in West London. Two of them were single so wanted to find themselves a man each. Frequently on weekends they would go drink at a pub somewhere locally.

After a couple years they were again single and decided to drown their sorrows again. I was visiting and asked if there weren't any nice blokes around the pub, seeing as they must have got to know the regulars prety well by now, going there two or three times a week.

"Oh, yeah, there's lots of guys who seem really nice, but they just never seem to be interested in that way, you know?"
I found this hard to believe, so I asked them which pub it was.
"The Birdcage. On the High Road."

Just a minute. The Birdcage? That wouldn't be the pub on the High Road with all the rainbow flags outside it, would it? And the rainbow pub sign? And the posters advertising AIDS benefits events? And regular drag nights?

Yes, that's the one. Why?
You didn't think that the men there seemed very fond of each other? Holding hands, etc?

Eventually I had to spell out for them in words of one syllable that rainbow decor = gay pub and this might be not the best place for straight women on the pull... I have no idea how they could be so oblivious for so long; one had even gone there with her gay best mate and his boyfriend, and we grew up in Brighton, gay capital of England!

people of the poo....

I was considering stalking Iron Chef Cat Cora. Unitil I read on wikipedia and found out she's a flaming lesbian.
Now I want to stalk Liv Tyler.
What can I do to ensure Liv baby doesn't turn to the dark side?

Get a comfy chair and possible some snacks, oh you peoples of BRPS. I bring you a two-for-one. Half rants, half observations.

Rantish Observation the First:

I have come to determine that generally, there are two mindsets when it comes to those who RP. I call them the RPers, and the Fic Writers. Now, this isn't to say that rpers can't be fic writers, or that fic writers can't be rpers. The two do blend, and as I've often seen, they can blend extremely well. But sometimes old habits die hard, and the ficcers get in over their heads.

There are some key differences, you see. The rpers know that the game, the roleplay, is an overall story of all the characters, all the interactions, all the plots... it is everybody's world, no character any more important than the next. They are in it for the story, the ride, the long haul, the whatever you want to call it. And then sometimes you get a stubborn ficcer (a motherficcer, if you will) who is completely out of their element. They are there for their character's story, and in that, they are the narrator, the story-teller, the Jesus, Buddha, and Zeus. Their character is the main character, because they're writing it, and everyone else's characters, plots, and needs are of a lesser priority.

One of the worst traits I have found in motherficcers are the needs to control everything. Those who play scenes out in their head, before they are written, without taking silly little things into account like, oh, say, how the other characters might react. And then it comes time to play the scene out, and, omgosh! People just don't react right! They RUINED your scene! THEY PLAYED IT WRONG!

Or worse, the rampant wangstbeast motherficcers who have decided not to sit idly by and let other characters ruin their vision. These beastly motherficcers who decide the best way to not let other players fuck up a good story is to try and tell them how it should be played properly. And then when these other players, these peons in your perfect world, dare to refuse – well, naturally there's only one sensible option. Through an epic shitfit, whine in every possible public forum, wangst about how mean everyone is to you, and occasionally flounce entirely.

Listen, you thundercunt motherficcers. If you can't handle the stresses of things like 'other people' and 'free will', why in the seven bloody hells are you even here? Go back to your fic, and your perfect little world that you control. We don't want you in ours. If you require an audience and must come play in our sandbox, do it with a shred of dignity and etiquette, and STFU and STFD.

Rantish Observation the Second:

In this respect, and the observation of countless motherficcers over the years, I have come to think it is generally a bad idea for a writer to play their novel/fiction characters in a roleplay setting – particularly those they've been writing for years. You may love them, and you may love writing them, and you may be terribly attached to them – but really, isn't that all the more reason to keep them in an environment that can't fuck everything up for you?

Think about it. Your novel character has always been in your environment, with your rules. Some times these characters don't translate and transplant well into other sandboxes. And you must take into account that, like it or not, not everyone is going to like your precious shnookums. Both IC and OOC. Before you transplant, ask yourself: can you handle that? If there's even the slightest chance you can't, if a single hair stands up on the back of your neck or the slightest uncomfortable flip of your stomach, don't do it. It will probably end badly.

If you have built up a character so grandly in your head, idolized them, babied them, loved them more fiercely than any character you have ever written in your own fiction, you may not be prepared for other peoples opinions on him/her.

For instance, your precious novel character, who you describe as 'intense', 'tragic', and 'heroic' may be perceived by other characters as more along the lines of 'annoying', 'a crybaby', and 'functionally retarded'. Ask yourself: are you ready for that? Can you handle such a thing without going home to your own tear-stained diary and wangsting about how everybody is always picking on you, and someday you'll publish your story, and THEN THEY'LL ALL BE SORRY MWUHAHAHAHA, like a sad-assed Batman character reject with a shitty origins story?

No? You can't.

Then you may also: STFU, and STFD.

http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ICanHasCheezburger/~3/hSyD1t_YIIg/

http://icanhascheezburger.com/?p=212039

Just to clarify, my girlfriend has a job but I don't, so she's given me permission to post her sucks, since she doesn't have an LJ account. She works as a dental nurse.

A woman came in a while back claiming she had "electricity in her head" because of her fillings, and the only way to get rid of it was to have them replaced with the really expensive ones for free.

And here's a transcript of something that went down today

GF doing admin duty: Hello what seems to be the problem
Angry lady: You're not doing you jobs right
GF: I'm sorry?
L: Your dentist removed all my teeth and put them back the wrong way round
GF: That's a medical impossibility
L: well I'm an exception!

Apparently she wanted to get implants for free.

Yet another suck from the lady who works for a European game retailer with a "creative" name that isn't Gamestop!

Mercifully, this being Ireland, we don't experience Black Friday. (We have Bog Day on December 8th... Ireland is a largely Catholic country, so on December 8th it's the feast of the conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It's a holy day of obligation, so all the folk from rural areas around Dublin come to our mall/shopping centre to do their Christmas shopping, yay! But ANYWAY... moving on...) We do, however, have to contend with PEGI (Pan European Game Information) ratings on games, and then the formal IFCO (Irish Film Censors' Office) ratings. PEGI ratings are more like guidelines, we don't enforce anything below 12+, but above that we treat it like an IFCO rating. The law states that we legally cannot sell a game/blu-ray (we sell pre-owned blu-rays) to anyone below the age shown on the product, so this makes for a looooot of sucks.

So anyways, today the shop was jam-packed what with it being a Saturday and OMFG LESS THAN 30 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS! Our policy is to I.D. anybody who looks younger than 21 and is trying to buy a certified game. One customer today came up with the latest Call of Duty (which received an 18+ rating from PEGI and IFCO) and the Saw game, which has the same rating. Please hold while I transfer you to the department of SCRIPT FORMAT and OH NO HE DIDN'T!

STARRING:
Game Slave: That's me!
Jerky McJerkson: Sucky customer
Meanie O'Meanieo: Sucky customer's friend

GS: Oh, you're looking to purchase these games! Can I ask how old you are? *is suspicious cos both look barely 17*

JMcJ: I'm 18.

GS: *apologetic smile* Do you have any I.D. to prove that please sir?

JMcJ: Are you joking me?

GS: Unfortunately not, sir, I have to ask for I.D. if you're lucky enough to look younger than 21, haha... *smile*

MO'M: Are you saying he's lying?

GS: <:O No, sir, I just need proof of age for purchase.

JMcJ: Ah, just give them to me... I told you I'm 18!

GS: I'm afraid I can't do that, sir.

JMcJ: Well I don't bring I.D. with me when I'm buying a poxy game!

GS: *smile wearing thin now* Well, if you bring your I.D. next time, we can check it and you'll have your games double quick!

MO'M: I'll buy them for him so.

GS: Do you have I.D.?

MO'M: Wha? I don't need I.D., I'm 19!

GS: Same situation applies, I'm afraid. I need to see I.D.! I can hold the games for you if you have a driver's license in the car...? *hint hint*

JMcJ: So you're saying I can't buy these games without I.D.?

GS: I'm afraid so, sir. It's against the law...

JMcJ: F*** you, you f***ing goody goody! *storms out with mean friend*



So, if those two ever come back, I'll be telling them I can't serve them without I.D. (again!) and if they swear at me again, they will be banned, end of.

[edited to fix formatting!]