Three works stories. First, an old guy came in with some shirts, and I asked him whether they were for laundry or dry clean. He said, “Laundry. I used to have them dry cleaned, but eventually the dry cleaning solution started to irritate my virgin flesh.” And I was like, Ten points to Dumbledore!
Second. This one lady has always been rude and unpleasant when we explained to her that several of her pieces might not do well in dry cleaning, and always signed the release we asked for with this air of “Why are you people even asking me this? Just do what I say.” Recently, when she came in with her usual stuff, I said to her, “And I know we’ve done this dress with the jewels on the front before, but I still need you to sign a release just in case they melt.” Seeming annoyed and put-upon as usual, she signed. Well, that time the plastic jewels did actually melt. It happens sometimes; they’re fine the first two or three times through, but by the fourth time the outside of the jewels has been worn off enough that they just melt entirely.
Anyway, when she came in to pick her stuff up and I explained that the jewels on the dress had melted, she LOST HER SHIT. She threw the biggest fit I’ve ever seen, and her reason for her anger at us was, and I quote, “You told me the jewels might melt; you didn’t say it would ruin the whole dress!” I had a hard time not laughing right out loud at her. She demanded to talk to the manager, and he actually asked the question I’d been too polite to: “What did you expect?” Because, seriously, how did she imagine the jewels might melt without ruining the entire dress?
The last one was this weird but quite nice old lady that always comes in not to have things laundered or dry cleaned but to have clothes she’s already washed at home pressed. You know. Whatever. Anyway, it’s difficult for me to convey in a few words how old-school and naive she seems, but even not knowing her this is still probably pretty funny. One day before she left she asked me, “Hey, you know that new store at Dublin and Academy? I think it’s called ‘Fabulous’ or something? Have you ever been in there? Do you know what they sell?”
At first I hadn’t the faintest idea what she was talking about. I started to tell her this, but then I realized what she must be referring to — it’s a Fascinations (link NSFW), and has been there for at least a year — and I was like, “Oh! Oh, that’s a sex store. I mean, they sell porn and sex toys and stuff.” And she made this absolutely hilarious face of shock and embarrassment and said, “Really? I thought it was a thrift store or something; I was going to go there.” I haven’t stopped laughing about it since.
Enough work stories. I’ve had two nights of insomnia in a row, and I’m really groggy and out of it today. It it follows the usual pattern, I won’t be able to sleep tonight either but should be fine tomorrow night. Hopefully work will wake me up a bit, because I’m just buried in mist right now. Ugh.
Methinks I’ma start posting Rose Pale on Friday.