A Couple Of Things

[crossover_chick]

Well, first off, you got your update VampDoc2! Read Josie's chapter of "Liquid Chocolate"
-VD2: *highfive with VampMarty and VampJennifer*-
-VM: About time! Now we just have to poke you for "Dusky Past."-
I know -- and yay, I'm into "somewhat rewriting the movie" territory, so that's going easier.
-VD2: *beam* Great. We'll make a writer out of you yet.-
[sarcasm]Thanks[/sarcasm]
-D: How goes the other writing?-
Working on "Boy Genius" at the moment. I think I might have found my "get up and go."
-VD: Where was it hiding, under the bed?-
Could have been, things can hide very effectively under my bed. *pokes a stick under there*

Also forgot (while typed and somewhat hyped up on deleterius) about a sucky customer I had the other day. It was around midday, about 11 o'clock, and my coworkers were having a smoke. (I'm the only non-smoker there, bleh.) I heard the phone ringing and answered it. Customer on the other line, very nicely gives me her name AND how to spell it, and she's checking up to see if an order is ready. Not a problem, I head to the computers at the front and look up the order.
While I'm doing that, this rather eldery guy comes in. I'm busy with the phone so I don't immediately acknowledge his presence -- however, I'm almost done looking up the lady's order, so I knew I'd be with him in just a moment.
The guy proceeds to start banging on the bell. I look up, and he smirks at me, like it's a big joke.
I HATE THAT. I hate the stupid bell in general, actually. There's no middle ground -- either people already at the front play with it, or people who come up while I'm in the back and can't see them don't touch it. The latter complaint is more prevalent than the former, but I still hate it when people play with the bell.
Anyway, I finish up on the phone, give the guy the Customer Service Monkey treatment, and fetch his order, a pair of pants. I go back and tell him the price, $5.21
"How much?"
I repeat it.
He stares at me in disbelief. "You mean cleaning a pair of pants is $5.00?!"
I just nod and say yeah. The thing is, he's one of those who actually has the little slip we give out with orders that says your name, order number, date it can be picked up -- AND PRICE. Plus, the order was taken in by my coworker M, and we both state the price while we give out the slip.
"How much would pressing a pair of pants be?"
"3.97"
"Because you see, I'd washed those pair of pants, and I hate ironing them. . . ."
I just nod as he complains about the price. Okay, perhaps 5.21 to dryclean and press a pair of pants is high -- I wouldn't know, having not seen any other prices for comparison. But it's too late! If you wanted them just pressed, you should have said that to M! I wasn't there! Cough up the money!
He does get around to paying -- though I have to remind him again it's 5.21 -- and he finally leaves. Sheesh!
Also had a regular who came to pick up and nearly walked out without paying me -- he wrote out the check but didn't tear it out of his checkbook. Not as bad, but still -- we stay in business through money.
-M: You know, I'm really glad you don't write any fics about my jobs in retail.-
Living it annoys me too much to write about it.

Now, off to get revison_doc's Dave and Linda settled into college, and perhaps have another visit with Kat and Mark. Not sure what I'm going to do with Edmund at this point -- perhaps once they make him over, he can move in with his campus crush.

Comments

[bttfbabe.livejournal.com]

The trick is that you don't write every literal detail of your job, but incorporate the element of frustration into your characters' jobs. Fan fic (or original fic) therapy for you and you don't have to relive the urge to kill in the process. It's all good. :)

Wait until I incorprate my freakin' job frustrations into Haunted Time 2. Poor Marty, but at least I'll feel better!