My Descent into public service...

Why do I think Darwin is dead?

Aside from those high school jobs that you do for weekend money, my work-life began at a Mall bookstore, B. Dalton. Anyone remember that? B.Dalton? Orange and brown? Yep that's the one! I loved the bookstore but there was no money. Fourteen years later, as B.Daltons were swallowed whole by their mutant sibling, B&N, I jumped ship and went to Bath & Body Works, lured by the higher wage and the chance to wear shorts to work. (I'm really not hard to please) I left B&BW as they changed their corporate philosophy to be a little more upscale, and was just the bored at-home mom until Big Dogs opened a store in the mall, and I couldn't stay away! Shorts at work, again! I managed that for a few years, until kids and retail hours got to be too much. Then I got the glorious job that I have now, nestled in the heart of Corporate America, at a public utility.

Let me tell you, I like selling things. I think it's fun to be enthusiastic, without being annoying, and play if someone wants to buy something. Really? Do you want to get something else, too? I'm not going to shove anything down anyone's throat, but if they want help, baby, I'm their girl.

Now I work for the great unwashed. They don't want anything more, they don't even really want what I have to give them. Coincidentally, the IQ and general conversational skills of the clientele has decreased incrementally with each job. Today I told someone that their service day is every Thursday.

"So is that twice a week service?"

Um, I dunno, do you have two Thurdays in your week? Because it's always been just one for me.

"No, ma'am. Just once a week."

"Okay, just checking."

sigh.

I miss the bookstore. I miss people with all neurons firing, and people who wear deodorant.

Is that wrong?