Monthly Archives: December 2014


The morning of Papa’s funeral.. Just over one month ago, I found a dime on my hotel room floor. It wasn’t there on my way into the shower, but when I got out of the shower, it was there. I remember thinking “it’s a sign from Papa and I smiled!” Ever since that day I’ve found dimes EVERYWHERE!!! In my purse, stuck In my wallet, on the floor of my car, on the floor of my office. Dimes everywhere. On my way to work this morning I said out loud “Papa, please give me a sign that you are okay. Just something”.

So, I get to work and Mr Duvall hands me a 20 first thing and says.. “I’ll
Pay for Starbucks this morning as long as you go ASAP!! I NEED coffee! Go right away.” So, I march myself down to Starbucks and I pay with his 20. The barista says to me “I’m so sorry Penelope, I have to give you 9 dimes!!! I just ran out of quarters”. I beamed!! Thank you Papa!!!


Today’s Customer

I just had to step outside for a breath of fresh air and because I got the munchies after I walked past these three young gentlemen shopping in women’s shoes. I don’t mind so much that you wanna sit in your car and smoke a bowl with the windows rolled up. I do, however, mind when you don’t even bother to change your shirt. On the other hand, a High customer is a calm customer.

It has its benefits.


Fat Cupcake

For the first time in 15 years in retail, something so incredibly outlandish and bizarre happened and I was at a loss for words. The short story is that I was called a “fat cupcake” AFTER I was told she and her three friends were going to “FUCK me up”. Needless to say it was an interesting Day to say the least. The LONG story is as follows: (oh, and BTW, I love the nickname ‘fat cupcake’ really.. I take that as a compliment).

So, in order to understand the FULL impact of the story I need to back up to earlier in the day. We had a cop on duty in the store today. I will refer to him as Jack. So, Jack and I were on my floor just chatting it up about how crazy it’s been in the mall, and about the fight that broke out in the food court (mental note I need to remember to tell him NEVER to use the word ‘ratchet’ again)… Anyway… A customer walked up to Jack and said “sir, I found this wallet in the parking lot of the mall.” Jack took the wallet, opened it, found an ID, and promptly called the off duty officer who was covering the mall. The OTHER officer came to get the wallet and took it to
Customer service. Pretty easy, right?? Well, you would THINK!!!

Ff to about 2 hours later. I’m in fragrances and I’m setting visual and tearing down Christmas visual when a group of 4 people (3 women and 1 man.. All 19, 20 ish) walk up to me and the alpha female says to me (hand on Hip, leg extended… ) “you need to direct me to where your store security person or cop or whatever is. NOW.”

Me: “well, I can call him… What is your problem so I can tell him what this is regarding?”

Her: “just get him, okay”

Me: “is there an issue?”

Her: “yes, bitch! There IS an issue… You don’t gotta ask me 19 fucking questions just tell me where the fuck he is”

Me: please, with the language.. It isn’t appropriate. I can see if our officer is available.

(So, I go page him and the camera operator… Guess who?? Herbie!!! My fave) answers and says.. Jack had to leave at 8pm” .. I walk back to miss attitude and tell her that he is unavailable, maybe I could help??? The situation just snowballed from there:

Her: no, then let me talk to THAT person that you talked to!! NOW!

Me: what is this regarding?


Me: OH…. (I’m thinking Emily Post she is NOT) well, I can refer you to mall security on that one. I was actually here and witnessed Jack give it to the mall security people.

Her: BITCH! I just came from there and they told me to come here. I have my mother fucking wallet but no fucking money.

(At this point, panic bells are ringing in my head… Ie.. She KNOWS it’s a COP who had her wallet.. The LAST thing I need is to be on CNN because she thinks that the cops have done her wrong. That’ll be a nightmare. Plus, I’m not wearing a good TV outfit). Our tete a tete continues:

Me: I will now invite you to leave my store. Please exit.

Her: fuck you! I ain’t fucking leaving. Fuck off.

This escalated quickly. Now, my hot Italian temper kicks in.

Me: leave my store now.

Friend #1: I’ll fuck you up! Fucking keep talking! I’ll fuck your shit up! I will FUCK you up.

People have stopped to stare. One makeup artist takes off his cardigan. Shit just got real.

Friend 1 and friend 2: (Simultaneously) come on, bitch lets go. We will fuck you up NOW.

Friend 3: fat cupcake (or did he mean PHAT cupcake?????) I couldn’t figure out if he was calling me that, or if he was expressing his desire for a fat cupcake or what.

Finally, situation diffused (without hitting or fucking me up… And the 4 friendly people sauntered away.

Unbeknownst to me.. Aforementioned makeup artist (who has always had a propensity for drama) called 911. Out of nowhere another cop I know appeared. We shall call him Finn. Finn located the offenders, was told that I had an attitude with them.. That I TOLD them to hit me (yes I’m 38 and I’ve never said that ever) and that that other cop stole their money. At that point a mall security guard RAISED HIS HAND!! (Yes literally raised his HAND) and said that HE took her cash OUT of her wallet for “safe keeping”. I expressed my desire for them to leave the store and just let it go and Finn agreed. But, not before woman number 1 said (randomly) “I don’t have warrants out or anything”.


I think he meant I was a phat cupcake. Either way, I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.

Somedays, there’s just not enough alcohol.


The Holidays at Home with Mrs GšŸ†

Prior to this conversation, there was never any doubt in my mind that Mrs G is NOT fun at the holidays. In fact, to quote Mike and Molly (one of my favorite TV shows) Mrs G’s house sounds to me like the place “where fun goes to die!” My hypothesis was proved correct during a random Mrs G conversation this week about days off, cookie making and presents. Let me illustrate:

This week I was working late and Mrs G was early. I walk in to the office to a heavy sigh…. I knew she was begging for attention… So I Thought to myself.. “Okay, I’ll bite” and said “Hey Mrs G.. How ya doing??” To which she replied: “I’m exhausted. I’ve had it. I’m done. I’m crazed with this place and I’m ready for my day off tomorrow. I’m going to bake cookies and the girls (her twin granddaughters) will be there and I’m not looking forward to it. I don’t let them “help” with cookies!” I said.. “Oh Mrs G!! That’s a shame!! Some of my fondest memories have been making cookies with my mother and my grandmother for Christmas!! I love those memories!!” She sighs with disgust and says… “I’m sure that the girls would sneeze, or cough or touch stuff and then put their hands in the cookie dough and I can’t have that. No way! I’m anal about my cookies!!! They will NOT be helping! At all! I don’t need that!!!”

I said.. “YOU?? ANAL?? About ANYTHING?? I CAN’T imagine!!”

Mrs G crossed her arms and said “At least my cookies don’t have child germs all over them!!”

Un. believable. Wound sooo tight!!
The place where fun dies.