Happy is the soul who has found work that they embrace and enjoy. Me? I fake it. Why can't everyone else be as good as me? Low standards I guess.
When I go for a stroll at lunch and find myself in a store, generally all I'm looking for is a nice atmosphere that's conducive to shoplifting.
Instead of shiny happy salespeople who seem helpful and harmless, I seem to get forced into interaction with glommy types who pepper spray me with their fake love in order to fleece me, release me and move on to their next target.
Rather than soldier on with a simple no thanks, I’m just looking because that's getting pretty tired, I’d like some help on stocking up on responses to their Frequently Asked Questions. Can you help arm me against these heartless bastards?
My first few:
Q > Is there something special you’re looking for today?
A> A complicated silence
Q> I think that might be a really good colour for you.
A> I’ll do anything as long as it’s not above or below the waist.
Your turn --