So I have become a familiar face to the big place that warehouses all things for home repairs, you know, without mentioning names, the orange apron people. Endless summer projects, stealing every minute of my already action packed time with cement work, yardwork, electrical, roofing, plumbing, drywall, (paint can wait) and then, oh, there is the ‘real’ job, the one that pays the bills so I can buy more mortar….
But…. the thing that cracks me up without fail, is the guy/gal at checkout. Invariably, they being idle and looking like they can use a customer, point us patrons to the ‘self checkout.’ Uh hello?
You are directing me to a place that will be your demise? One would think she would be slow to send us to the checkout that will seal her fate as unemployed. Look lady, I am doing you a favor. I prefer a human that…
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