As I watched two of my mid 30 year old co-workers scamper about during inventory today, I started to think of their similarities.

They're both single.
They both live alone.
They are both working in retail, in a store that sells shit from stores that doesn't want it anymore.
And they both have little dogs they gush over and love more than life itself.

I chuckled to myself a bit because they both despise one another to a point where they speak about the other right behind their back.

And then it hit me.

Am I going to be the crazy 35 year old retail co-worker with a dog as my closest companion and nothing but co-worker gossip and company policy to keep me going everyday?

I refuse to ever sink that low.
Perhaps I think too highly of myself, but, shit.
I am NOT letting that happen.

You know, my friends mean well, but do they know what they are doing to me when they tell me that I "deserve better" when referring to a romantic interest?

They make me strive to be intimate with a better quality person.

Which may not seem all that horrible because they are encouraging me to find the best out there, but in all actuality, it has fucked with my expectations.

Expectations that are not of the "Great" Dickens department, but instead are the fucked ideals this society has defined to be our dating norms.

Expectations that will never be met.

They say find better.
I find better.
He disappoints.
They say find better.
I find better.
He disappoints.
They say find better.

Does anyone else see a vicious, cock eating cycle here? Because I sure as hell do.

Maybe there is no better. And if there is, where are they? Am I not finding them because the universe doesn't agree with my friends when they say I deserve it?

I think I give up on trying to find better. Every time I do, there apparently is "better" than him out there. If anyone knows where all of these "better" people are, could you please point me in the right direction?

Because I'd love to prove you wrong.

What's wrong with the world today?

Seventeen teenage girls planning pregnancies with a pact like it's just another Truth or Dare consequence.

An 11 year old girl singing, "I kissed a girl and I liked it."


Way to be, girls of the 21st century.
Let's celebrate your intelligence with another kick to the face and fetal alcohol syndrome...

My relationships are continuously crap-tastic.
It's like I'm stuck in Monopoly jail, I have the Pretty, Pretty Princess black ring and I keep hitting the sides of the Operation patient.
I can't pass "GO" and I can't collect $200, I can't win the crown, and I keep dropping that damn pencil shaped writer's cramp back into the forearm cavity.

Goddamn, I am a horrible relationship/board game player...

In an attempt to be candid, I will now recount a customer incident that took place at work this past Friday, the 13th.

A woman, aged about 50 some odd years and a bit top heavy, was yelping in pain as I approached the front of the discount store from the back, where I was reducing discounted prices from 40% to about 50% off. As I looked at the setting and my eyes adjusted to the sunlight pouring in from the front doors, I realized that this woman scraped her leg on one of the display shelves, closest to the floor. One of the corners was considerably sharp and probably should have been covered with a plastic casing especially made for these types of situations.

As I was asked to put the plastic on the corner a minute too late by the manager, the customer pointed out that if we had taken this precaution before, she wouldn't be in pain at the moment... and oh how it burned. Oh God, she couldn't believe how much it burned. Look, it was bleeding! It sliced right into her and it wouldn't stop BURRRRNING.

I looked up from my struggle with the L-shaped piece of plastic and my eyes rested on her right leg, just above her ankle. It looked like a paper cut canal filling with blood. It dripped a bit, but not enough for her to be justified in the way she was sucking air through her teeth and saying, "Ahhhhh!"

I forced myself to look at the sharp, dangerous corner again and continue with my struggle as I felt the corners of my mouth start to curl into a smile. You've got to be kidding me, lady.

My boss returned from the office, a band-aid and antiseptic in her latex gloved hands.
"You really don't have to do that," the over dramatic, middle aged, starved for attention customer said.
"No, but it's really alright. Just let me help you."

Boss lady sprayed the big baby with antiseptic and big baby howled in pain.

"AAAHHH! THAT BURNED!! I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MUCH THAT HURT!"

The customers on line at the register turned and stared at the screaming 50 year old with a paper cut.
Shuffling behind my co-worker at the register, I muffled a laugh with a forced cough.

I had already punched out. I wanted to leave and tell everyone about this customer that was obviously deprived of attention for at least several months before this incident. But, I waited until my boss was done bandaging the fool with a scrape on her leg and asked her if she needed anything else before I left. She sighed and told me to have a good day.

On my way out, I heard the big baby fool's voice say, "I just can not believe how much that cut hurt..." and I thought, "I just can not believe how much of a fucking cunt that woman was. I hope she doesn't sue."

Just add his name to the list of "never-would-i-ever" people that have been in and out of my life.

It's a long list, and fierce too.

Each name stirs a foaming-mouth hate from my gut.

FYI, you should probably never cross me.

This is my lackadaisical attempt to be intimidating.

Stare in awe at my words of leisure.

What the fuck is "!!!"?
How the hell are you even supposed to say that band name?
Luckily there was an indie band Wikipedia definition written by someone probably scrawny, quiet and grossly opinionated.
It said, "pronounced 'chk chk chk.'"
How the fuck... exclamation points are now pronounced as sounds?!

Looking sickly is in. Accentuate your sunken-in face with stringy, straight, bluntly angled hair that gets compliments from only the most popular people in your circle.
Stick toothbrushes into the back of your throats, squeeze into skinny jeans and wrap yourselves in the latest "underground" trends.

Like obscure bands for the sake of liking obscure bands.
Laugh your ass off at people who have never heard of these "amazing" bands and never share them with others.
I believe in sharing music.
I love something, I share it with as many people that will let me share it with them.
Oh, and I give credit where it's due.

"No, I didn't find these guys. THIS RECORD LABEL DID and then my friend bought it and gave me a copy."

Sip soy milk lattes at that live music on Wednesdays basement cafe across the street from Starbuck's where all of those "regular" and "uninformed" people hang out. That's where I'll be enjoying my mediocre life with my mediocre, sometimes even mainstreamed (GASP!) music.