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December 2007
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February 2008

The Last Word on Inventory, I mean Invomitory


(WARNING - Many F-BOMBS are dropped in Carolanne's Rant, as usual. If this bothers you, you can, cover your ears, and scroll down. Then watch the ice cream movie from yesterday.)


(See, we warned you.)

Inventory IS total makes me want to VOMIT... RIGHT OUT MY FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! I am so glad it's OVER!!!

My stupid fucking Store does it twice a year and every time it happens I end up feeling like slitting my wrists with a fucking paperclip. I mean why the fuck can't they have a company come in and do it? Why us Retail Slaves? Why not fucking

I don't have enough energy left to bitch about every single fucking thing that went wrong and annoyed the fuck out of me during this year's Invomitory, but I will spew some of the shitty highlights because I feel like venting:

Two weeks before Invomitory, my Droid Manager - I'll call her Psycho Cindi here - was completely out of control making us check tickets on merchandise that had been already checked a hundred times over. One day when she asked me to check an area that I had checked twenty minutes before, it took everything in my retail hell-drained body, to not rip into the douchy droid and say, "Cindi are you fucking nuts? Someone needs to take you in the back and fuck your brains out, you need to calm your shit down! What the fuck is wrong with you? I just checked that fuckin table three times in the last two hours. I am sure as fuck not doing it again, you wired up Stepford Wife from Retail Hell." Unfortunately I couldn't say that because I need this shitty retail job, so I gave her a fake ass smile, pictured myself pushing the snatch down the escalator, and re-checked the fuckin table.

Psycho Cindi's craziness only got worse. Her Invomitory Schematic for the scan stickers looked more complicated than the mall's parking structure: Blue Lily, Orange Level, section 4, area b-12, column 36, row 6, grid 22, gravestone 4389---What the FUCK!?! How about 1,2,3 - you FUCKING MORON! It took us forever to lay the stupid fucking stickers. Psycho Cindi looked more confused than Paris Hilton trying to find her car outside of a nightclub. Fucking idiot.

Then right before Invomitory, the neurotic nutcase gave a meeting where she treated us like a bunch of fucking babies: We had to quadruple check every goddamn thing. We were not allowed to socialize. We had to whisper our counting communication to our partner. And if we needed assistance or had to go to the bathroom, it was required that we raise our fucking hand. What the fuck is this? High School? I'd rather be chained to a locker and forced to listen to fucking Vanessa Hudgens and Zac Efron sing for ten hours! FUCK THIS SHIT!


But things only got worse after that. I told Psycho Cindy I wanted this hot temp boy named Drew as my partner - of course I lied to her and told her it was because he looked like he had half a brain - but fuck no. Psycho Cin assigns me this woman who apparently had no fucking brain at all: total female version of Homer Simpson. I almost beat her to death with the scangun when she had to SLOWLY recount 8 pairs of denim 5 times because she was convinced her count was off by 2. AAAAARGH!!!!

Then my fucking scangun froze and had to be rebooted. Fucking piece of shit thing lost ten stickers that Dispshit counted, so we had to go back and re-count everything. Then we had to make new tickets for 50 pairs of jeans because the vendor tag wouldn't scan with our lame ass cheap Toys R Us scanners. Dipshit couldn't get the ties around the belt loops so I had to do all them and that's when I hit my fucking head on one of the shelves and nearly blacked out. It felt like I'd been whacked with a crowbar. Then I was nauseous and dizzy. No food or water anywhere. Psycho Cindi said I should go get a drink of water from the fountain by the bathrooms. I said, Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? I AM NOT PUTTING MY MOUTH ANYWHERE NEAR THAT SKANKY THING. FUCKING GROSS!!!

I'd had enough. I told Psycho Cindi I needed to go home. Invomitory was over for me. I felt like I was going to pass out. She said, "No, everyone stays until it's done." Fucking douchebag. I would have ignored her and cut out anyways, but our Store had turned into a maximum security high school prison that night. No one was allowed to leave during inventory unless they had a pass issued by the HR Manager or Floor Watchers. Sounds unbelievable doesn't it? It's all true motherfuckers. Fucking Store Security stood guard by the employee entrance and would not let anyone leave unless they had an exit pass. WTF?!?! People it's fucking inventory at shitty department store for god sakes! Not back stage of a Hannah Montana concert!

Carolanne5 So then I said, "Listen Cin - it's like this: If you don't let me go home RIGHT NOW - my head trauma is going to cause the kind of migraine that will force me to call in sick tomorrow morning. You won't have an opener and they'll be calling your ass in to cover me."

Psycho Cin short circuited like coffee hitting a key board. She babbled away on her walkie-talkie to the HR Manager about my condition. The HR Droid bitch was not happy I got to leave early, but forked over the Exit Pass and I got the fuck out of Invomitory Hell! I went straight to PF Changs.

The next morning, I should have called in anyway. The place looked like it was under Crime Scene Investigation - fucking yellow tape, fingerprints, and pink tickets everywhere, everything a total fucking mess. Worse than a goddamn sale. I barely got the shit cleaned up before the store opened. The air hadn't been turned on, my clothes were soaked from sweating, and my head hurt worse that fucking Harry Potter's.


Next year I'm going to save some cash from my Christmas paycheck and buy a fucking doctor's note that says I have mono and then I'm going to spend the week on my couch watching DVDs and eating nachos. Buah motherfuckers!

Ice Cream Store Retail Hell

This one has been around for a while (2006), but makes us chuckle every time we see it. The video is a preview for a movie called The Scoop. We don't know much about it. The Scoop never made it into theatres (at least not a version about ice cream). So we're guessin it's just a satire on Retail Hell and film previews. Happy licking.

Retail Hell Underground Game: Store Code Names


A fun word game for Retail Sluts and Whores alike. Grab a piece of paper and test your skill by writing the correct store name.

1. The Clap =

2. Absinthe and Snitch =

3. Lame Stop =

4. The Demented =

5. Nordic Plantation =

6. Smears =

7. Old Gravy =

8. Best Lay =

9. Ballsacks First Street =

10. Sleep, Shower, and Shit =

11. Pineapple Democracy =

12. Jerkins=

13. Boobs and Knockers =

14. Youwhora =

15. Hoarders =

16. Lay-me's =

17. Needless Mark-up =

18. Fuck Mart =

19. Shitty City =

20. Taiwanese Chicken Suits =

21. Holes =

22. Dyingdales=

23. Napkins and Junk =

24. TJHooker=

25. Hairyballs=

26. Animal Fart =

27. Suckit =

We know that was tough. For the answers CLICK HERE.

If you have any of your own Store Name Code words feel free to write them in comments! We'd love to hear em!

Update: Be sure to come back and click on comments below after you've seen our answers. Some of our fellow Retail Slaves have left their own tasty Store Code Names!

Retail Hell Survival: Customer Retaliation Tip

Gum We may not be able to tell Mean Crazy-Bitch Customers to fuck off to their faces (even though that's What We Really Want To Say), but as masters of creative solutions at Retail Hell Underground we strive to offer our fellow Retail Slaves alternative solutions.

For today's Mean Customer Retaliation Tip all you need is a piece of gum or tictac.

We recommend keeping one or both in your pocket at all times. Most situations with Mean Crazy-Bitch Customers go on for what seems like hours. Use this to your advantage. On the sly stick the gum or tictac in your mouth and get it good and soggy.

Chewed gum can be dropped in shopping bags, flicked on to clothes, and placed in the tissue wrapped around a $300 sweater. Be creative Slaves! Not only will Juicy Fruit or Big Red give you a nice flavor burst, it will stick to just about anything. It's also best to have a wad of pre-chewed gum hidden somewhere near the register so that it can be used quickly if a Mean Crazy-Bitch Customer Situation arises out of nowhere. Dried chewed gum won't be as sticky, but it will still be a nice little Fuck You message.

A wet tictac sucked on for a few minutes will stick to almost anything, especially hair. Also they are so lightweight that when thrown at the backside of a Mean Crazy-Bitch Customer, they won't even know it hit them. At least you'll feel better having shot the fucking bitch with your wet tictac bullet.

Of course if you don't have any chewed gum or a wet tictac handy, there is nothing like a good old fashioned loogie, which is used by many Restaurant Server Slaves when Mean Crazy-Bitch Customers piss them off. It's probably not best to produce a phlegmy coughed up loogie as the noise will attract attention, but you can do wonders with a finger covered in spit. Just think to yourself: What would Johnny Depp do?

Good luck Retail Slaves! Stay sane out there by stocking up on lots of gum and tictacs.

Something Missing


We've all seen these annoying internet Click Ads offering career salvation....We especially like the Bounty Hunter option - must be a growing profession. Jason is looking into that one. It is odd, however this internet school of occupational dreams is missing one major career, so we made an icon we'd be happy to let them add. CLICK HERE.

Retired Retail Whore Never Forgets

Fitting1A new segment on RHU! Fitting Room Nightmares. For those of us who work in Stores with fitting rooms it's time to share our tales of scum, skank, and scandal. Every time a Customer does something shocking in a fitting room we wonder to ourselves, how did that person even leave their home and why aren't they locked up somewhere? The three of us have had our own disturbing FR stories: Freddy encountering poo in the worst way, Carolanne dealing with naked perverts, and Jason witnessing structural destruction. In the future we'll tell our stories, but for now we have one from our Myspace friend, Lorraine in California. She's a Retired Retail Whore who just can't seem to shake the FR situation she encountered many moons ago. Here it is in her own words:

Many years ago I worked in a fine men and women’s clothing store. Very upscale. I was trained the old school way: CUSTOMER ALWAYS COMES FIRST! I was helping a lady with a full piece bathing suit. In those days bathing suits had a back zipper "how old am I?" I was standing outside the dressing room at her beck and call to assist her.  She asked me thru the curtain if I could help her with the zipper. Being the good RETAIL WHORE THAT I AM, I said " of course, NO PROBLEM!" I went into the dressing room and started to zip up the bathing suit. OH MY GOD, I saw a strand of hair caught in the zipper. It had to have been 2 ft long. I had to pull it before she saw it! I nonchalantly started to pull it away, she screamed. OH MY GOD she saw it and it freaked her out. This time I pulled it harder. She screamed even louder. I pulled it again in panic! She really screamed! WHAT???? How in the hell did I know "IT WAS ATTACHED TO HER NIPPLE!"

What in Retail Hell? Nipple hair?That's a new one for us. Jason's calling his therapist while Carolanne vomits. Unbelievable! Thanks for sending this Lorraine. If you have a Fitting Room Nightmares you want us to post, send us a message on Myspace or email us at