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Things I wish I'd said...if I hadn't the need to clutch onto my just-above-minimum-wage service-based university jobs:
No, the customer isn't always right. They haven't been that right in over fifty years. Deal with it. This is the 21st century; we choose our customers now. Heh.
In-store signs with fine print that you didn't notice isn't false advertising. Um... it isn't even advertising.
No that isn't your daughter, that's a photograph of her. And I can tell it's professionally done just by looking at it. And, no, I won't break the law for you by making copies of it; I don't even know you. Go steal me a Sony Playstation from the store down the hall, and maybe we'll talk.
Put the stack of magazines down; this is a bookstore, not a library. If you're looking for the library, it's... *looks at the stack of People, Us Weekly, In Touch, etc.* ...never mind.
Don't talk down to me. Just because I'm a cashier, it doesn't mean I'm an idiot. Actually, it means I'm working on my second degree. You'll have to excuse me if I'm a bit stressed out: I'd rather be at home where I can finish reading Chaucer's "The Nun's Priest's Tale" from his Canterbury Tales--in the original Middle English...out loud--before moving on to finding contemporary dramatic examples of what T. S. Eliot called the objective correlative and making my way through recently published avant-garde Canadian poetry. *pause for effect* Say, what are you reading these days? Peasant.
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Knowing that death is certain and that the time of death is uncertain, what's the most important thing?
—Bhikkhuni Pema Chödrön
Humankind cannot bear very much reality.
—From "Burnt Norton," Four Quartets (1936), T. S. Eliot
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