Today's musings are brought to you by the well-intentioned, but dim, custys who have graced my beloved Mens Department recently.
Time and time and time again, I've heard a sentence begin, "Y'know, you really ought to..." and my jaws start to clench. Because I know what's coming next is going to be a helpful (in their minds) hint as how to make Gord & Raylor a better place to shop.
So I'll force a smile and pretend to listen attentively, all the while playing a certain little song in my head.
"Y'know, you really ought to tell management to keep the various displays in the same place, instead of moving them around all the time!"
(Everywhere I hear the sound of marching, charging feeeet, boy...)
"Y'know, you really ought to tell your buyers to get more slim-fit suits in here!"
('Cause summer's here and the time is right for fighting in the streeeet, boy...)
"Y'know, you really ought to upgrade your cash registers. They're what, 1990's technology?"
(But-a what can a poor boy do...)
"Y'know, you really ought to turn the air conditioning on in this place! It's HOT in here!"
(Except to sing for a rock n' roll band...)
"Y'know, you really ought to stop asking for ID when issuing a cash refund! It's SO embarrassing!"
('Cause in sleepy London Town...)
"Y'know, you really ought to get more hot CHICKS in here, man! No offense, but you're like, OLD n' shit!"
(There's just no place for a Street Fighting Maaaaan! No!)
After they're gone, I just bang my head on the counter a few times and Mick and I talk about rockin' out and getting wasted and chasing birds and then, I'm all happy again.
...and the dance goes on.
--Joe the Cigar Guy