"If we stop the escalator, everyone will have to use the elevator," said Unnamed Coworker.
"Or go home," I said.
Since my word had no gravitas whatsoever, I was forced to trudge through my three-hour closing shift accompanied by the soothing sounds of a squeaky escalator, which sounds something like a sea lion if one is unfamiliar with the noise.
Due to the famine of fleshy, absorbent humans lurking around my department, the sound waves had nothing better to do than bounce off the walls and echo loudly on the tile floors.
My night began as follows.
Hang up swim suits from fitting room. Put them back on 9.99 rack. Pick up swim off floor and hang it up.
"What's that noise?" said Woman Who Throws Bathing Suits.
"The escalator is broken," came my reply.
"They should fix that," Woman Who Throws Bathing suits tells me.
I nod and walk away.
Circle department. Put coats back where they belong. Button and zip coats on front lines. Squish the down coats and watch them spring back into shape.
"What's that noise?" asked Lady Who Drapes Coats Over Racks Instead of Hanging Them.
"The escalator is broken."
"Can't they fix it?"
I stared at her for a few seconds before I said, "Not until we figure out its wants and needs."
And by the fifth customer, I started to get really creative with my answers.
"It's singing you the song of its people."
"It craves human sacrifice."
"It's the spirits communicating by way of the haunted escalator."
Until, finally, Lady Who Is Rude To Sales Associates demanded, "What's that noise? Why don't you fix it?"
"What noise?" I asked, puzzled, swiveling my head this way and that.
I realized that night, after I watched Lady Who Is Rude To Sales Associates ask five other innocent bystanders if they heard a constant squeaking noise, that working with stupid people entitles you to mess with them. That makes me a sociopath, I think.
The End.
Even if you're a sociopath, at least you're on some kind of path :)
ReplyDeleteHAHAHA my parents will be so proud!
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