Still bored in Tampa. If anyone knows of any jobs – that wouldn’t require me to use a pole in any capacity – let me know. I am alone in the office with Joe today, Joe being the most annoying wealth advisor on the planet. Is there another kind of wealth advisor? I wish he would just go home or take a nap or something. He keeps asking me to do stuff – order him some notecards, but not the ones we have, slightly smaller. He wants a new stapler, a heavy metal one because he doesn’t like the plastic. His scroll bar goes to fast on his computer, can I fix it? His Wall Street Journal had a small rip in it this morning, can I call the mail room and complain? He wants a new mouse because his doesn’t click fast enough. He wants his keyboard tray moved to the center of his desk. He needs new thumbtacks because he likes the flat head ones not the colorful ones.

Make it stop.

Off to Dillard’s in a few hours. An employee breakdown of the men’s department at Dillard’s:

Matt – Manager. If you show up for work, he doesn’t care what else you do.

Sam – He’s the new assistant manager. I hate him and if I had a syringe and some insulin I think I could effectively do away with him. Forget you heard me say say that. Put him in some white overalls and the guy is short enough and orange enough to be an oompa loompa. As a NEW manager he feels the need to assert his power over the lowly hourly wage slaves.

Elisa – Works full time in collections. Is afraid of people. Perfect for retail. Don’t think I have ever spoken one word to her.

Randy – Other full time collections employee. Also Dillard’s happiest employee. Possibly due to the constant combination of ecstasy and coke. Connection? You decide. Spends all of his paychecks on clothing and booze. Flirts with the guy that works at the perfume counter. And every other guy that walks in the store.

Kevin – works in Tommy Hillfiger. His legs look about 12 inches long, but this is only an optical illusion as he wears his pants about 37 inches below where his waist is, thereby allowing him brag that he does not, I repeat does not, have to shop in the big and tall department.

Genet – works in Murano. She’s a piranha. You think that sale is yours? Not so quick sparky, not when Genet is around. She will destroy you, be afraid.

Irma – She’s fun, but I don’t understand half of what she says. She’s from Puerto Rico and works at Dillard’s to practice her English. She told me that she doesn’t, how you say, want to work there too long. Yes Irma, none of us want to, how you say, work there too long.

Chris – He’s in the back of the store in the underpants and ties department. He calls me shnookums, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. He’s about 87 years old and looks like Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. He moves so slow that you could wait on 12 customers and he would still be counting change from the original customer he started with. God forbid anyone interrupt him with a question while he’s in the middle of a transaction. Sometimes I have the urge to place a mirror under his nose to make sure he’s still alive.

Eleanor – She works with Chris in the back. I don’t understand half of what she says either. She’s from Boston (no r’s) and sounds disturbingly like Edith Bunker.

Dennis – Works in the polo department and is fabulously gay. He also has the worst breath of any person I have ever met in my life. Smells like a family of badgers crawled down his throat and died halfway.

Sylvia – Works part time with Dennis and is one scary bitch. No, really. Old, mean and deadly. Shivers. Grey teeth, like a wolf. She teases her hair and wears blue eye shadow.

Jane – works part-time wherever they put her. She’s probably one of the hardest workers there. She works at Dillard’s for the aerobic/weight loss benefits. I don’t know either. She always brings me chocolate so she is on my list of people that don’t piss me off.

Rob – usually works in denim. Looks like he could be on the Soprano’s. Wears a gold chain and talks with a Brooklyn accent. Never does any actual work. Has sex with his girlfriend (Jamie from men’s fragrances – retail is very incestuous) in the dressing room. When he saw me reading a book, he asked me why people do that – read. Because of that, I call him the Thinker.

Savannah – Just turned 19, Kool-aid red hair and a pierced lip. Spent one entire Sunday thinking of ways to decapitate Genet and what she would do with the severed head – most scenarios involved scrubbing something, usually toilets. She’s a little ray of sunshine.

There are a bunch more, but meh, I’m done for now.

2005-08-03 at 3:43 p.m.