Why Work Sucks. My own fault really.

I'm not going to spell out what I do for a living or where I do it. Not out of fear of being fired, but more out of respect for the people who may read this not really having known how much a pain in the ass they really are. I work in a customer sales oriented type of job. I don't dislike customers as much as I dislike ASSHOLES. Now some people in the customer service industry may not feel that there is a difference, basically.... Customer=Asshole. But for me, I realized a long time ago that you need customers to make money and the sooner you can get along with that theory the better. That being said, I would like nothing more than to jam a screwdriver into the ears of some customers just to see their face. Okay, perhaps a bit much but really, I'm no magician "Hey Mr. X. I'm sorry but I'm just not going to have your $%^^ ready today...What's that. Well I'm sorry but.... Really, there's no need to....." click. You know what Fuck Mr. X and and Mrs. Y that bitch. People, realize that just because you are paying for a service, I'm far to tired and overweight to bother with bending over and kissing your ass. Really, be happy with a handshake and be assured that I will do everything I can to complete your job in the fashion you expect. I'm no fucking magician, I don't care enough about you personally to stay late and sacrifice my personal and family time and, listen really closely customers.... ready for this.... its a shocker...... Tomorrow is another day! Really and if you die in your sleep what the hell good did ruining my day yesterday do for you now. Huh, when you just write the things as they fall off your chest and hurl out your mouth, it almost sounds mean and threatening. I'm not a threatening guy, just a frustrated on, having to put up with insensitive customers, crap pay and too much work. Well from now on, I'm wearing a tool belt, and trust me my job doesn't require me too. I'm also going to Walmart on my way home, purchasing a nice set of cheap screwdrivers, enough to fill every pouch of my leathery tool sack. Maybe some nice rubber handled drivers, nice cushioned grip, nice weight, could be plunged or thrown like a lawn dart.

Who am I kidding. I need the money, no matter the sum. Its nice to dream though. I suppose its not that bad really. I come in late, take long lunches, leave early. If it wasn't for the damn shit eating customers my frustration wouldn't build to the point of eruption. But thankfully I always feel resolved after putting my frustration into words. Customers of tomorrow, thank the world of blogging, your ear canals shall remain safe for yet another day.

Hey and if you are one of those people lucky enough to enjoy your jobs, what can I say.... Piss Off!!