I couldn't believe this girl that came into the jail the other night, so I had to share it with ya'll. I expect a certain sense of entitlement but jail ain't the damn Hilton.
So this girl is all of... 21. Exactly. As a matter of fact, she got chosen to be a visitor to my accomodations a whole 3 hours after she had turned 21. And I am sure it goes without saying, she was drunk.
Now I have nothing against the responsible consumption of alcohol but this little girl just could not hold her liquor. And apparently she had attracted the attention of a couple passing patrol guys by dancing and stripping on top of a cab outside the bar, and refused to be talked down. So the cops had to pull all 120 pounds of her down off the car and put her in cuffs.
Then once she was cuffed she decided she wanted to fight, and ended up kicking one of the patrol guys in the shoulder. So when she got to me, she was half naked, hand cuffed, and ready to go for round 2.
I pull her out of the car and she tells me she is going to spit on me, and I whisper in my ear if she does spit on me she will be leaving here with a lot less teeth than she started with, which seemed to make her understand that I wasn't playing her games. I also told her that she was in my castle, and in my castle there is only room for one Princess, and right now it's me.
Then little girl pukes on me. Now most people, especially females, will tell us when they aren't feeling well or are going to be sick. Hell - I'll get you a trash can and even hold your hair out of your face cause I'm nice like that. I understand, most people can't help it. But my quick like bunny relfexes only resulted in my BRAND NEW BOOTS getting puked on instead of my uniform. No sorry, nothing from her. But hey, she's drunk so it's not like I can really blame her. I'm more pissed off about my new boots.
So through the course of bringing her in, these are some of the more memorable quotes:
"I can't wear an orange jumpsuit, it's not my color" - Sorry sweetheart, I realize that you're more of a "spring" color but orange is all I've got. Put it on.
"You can't expect me to drink tap water?! I only drink Evian!" Well darlin', the pipe to the mountain fresh spring water is broken, sorry.
"My daddy is a lawyer, I'll have your job!" You want it, you got it honey. And you can explain to daddy why you attempted to assault a police officer and were dancing naked on top of a vehicle in the middle of a major metropolitan area.
"Do you have any Cactus juice? I need it to drink to help flush the toxins out of my body". Yeah, let me just run out back and squeeze some out.
"You're violating my continental rights!" Good thing we aren't in Hawaii or Alaska then, huh?
"You can't expect ME to go in there with... THOSE... people". Unfortunately our personal suites have all been reserved. But hey, if an opening comes up I'll put you first on the waiting list. Step in.
"But... these people are criminals!" Welcome to the club... step in.
"But what am I supposed to do in here?" I highly suggest you get on the phone and call daddy the lawyer to come bail your ass out so I don't have to deal with you. Other than that I would suggest try to make new friends. Now step in.
"I'm not going in there" Honey you are going in there one way or another. You can step in, or I can help you step in, but either way the end result is you going in there.
So FINALLY she goes into the holding cell. Not my problem, right? Wrong. Now she is saying her 40 year old millionaire boyfriend is going to come bail her out... awesome. Except "boyfriend" calls (which I think may have been the previously mentioned "daddy", and I don't want to think anymore about that), and tells us she is on her own. Pretty bad when even your sober boyfriend won't come get you and tells me you're an embarassment.
And on the side of sweet justice, we also had a hooker sting... or I mean... street walker operation... going on that night, so she got to meet and greet my city's finest female clientale. And these aren't your Craigslist escorts.. these girls have been rode hard and put up wet a few too many times. I'm talking they offer full service for $20 in the back of an alley kind of girls.
She kept asking for the most inane things, and I finally had to tell her my badge says "Deputy", not "Concierge".
All in all I did feel a little sorry for her, and thank goodness I have developed patience as I've grown older. I just kept trying to tell myself that I was 21 once too, although I don't remember ever acting like that. I realize that I don't see people on their best days, but damn this girl was just something else. It's jail, not a spa!
Doubtful, but I'm sure his hellspawn had a hand in it!
Pic From J, who added: "Every time I see such wrongdoing by careless custys, I remember RHU, and a smile grows on my face."
Basically, I'm a puppy pimp. Yes, you may call me Cujo, the puppy pimp.
My time is spent retrieving baby dogs from cages and parading them around like it's the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show for trashy families in the hopes that they can be persuaded into paying too much money for them.
I work in a mall, so there is no shortage of trashy people.
Don't be fooled by the nature of the industry I work in: It is still retail. I may be selling beautiful living creatures, but make no mistake that to the hoards of disgustomers, animals are merchandise. And because I am the one selling the merchandise, I am degraded, mistreated, and dehumanized in the same way that I have been at every single retail job I've ever had over the past fifteen years.
I would like to say that the advantage of being around cute baby dogs all day makes it better, or at least in some way different... ....but it doesn't. It's still a retail job just like any other. The only thing that's different is the name of the business I say when I answer the phone.
It seems like the fact that I work in a PET STORE would come across pretty straightforward, but it doesn't. My store gets mistaken for a lot of other things, none of which fall under the category of 'legitimate business that should be respected as such'.
So here is a short list of places that I DO NOT WORK:
A Petting Zoo
I work in retail, meaning that it is my job to SELL MERCHANDISE, which in my case is cute fluffy little puppies. Despite popular belief, dogs don't sell themselves; in addition to hard work, persuasion, and forfeiture of a significant part of my soul, it also takes TIME to actually get someone to shell out two-weeks pay for a dog. That said, I can not stand the fact that these few resources that I have to do my job with are perpetually depleted by IDIOTS who think that my store is a Petting Zoo. I don't mind if people want to play with a puppy with no intention of purchasing one; it's not a crime. During the week when it's really slow I'm even thankful that people are willing to visit with the dogs, just so they can get out of their cages for a while. But when I am busy I don't need to be plagued by entitled grubby bottom-feeding leeches molesting my animals and further traumatizing them while taking my time away from my actual customers.
A Day Care Center
When I am not caring for the thirty-or-more puppies housed in my store at any given moment, I am attempting to care for the thirty-or-more obnoxious unattended children that get left in my store for hours at a time. One job is easier than the others; I'll let you guess which. I hate unsupervised children, especially where I work, since they're not allowed to touch the animals without a parent (a rule that I have no desire to break since the type of children that are left to be raised by mall-employees while their parents shop are inevitably savages). So they get dropped off, and they sit. And sit. And ask annoying questions. And continually ask for the forty-seven millionth time if they can hold a dog. And then they wander into the visitation rooms (where customers can spend time getting to know the dogs) and intrude on the families that are trying to shop and they latch onto the dogs that I have left in the care of other people.
If I had extra cages I would lock all of them up. Seriously, I would. I honestly believe I would get away with it... ...I don't think that the type of person that leaves their parenting to the strangers at the mall-store would take issue with their child being put in a cage.
A Puppy Mill
What's a Puppy Mill, you ask? A puppy Mill is an evil place where dogs are turned into little baby-factories that spit out piles and piles of puppies that are housed in an atmosphere that is so hazardous and disgusting that it makes Auschwitz look like Disney World!! They're terrible and they exist only to supply pet stores with malnourished in-bred abused dogs that will eventually attack children!! Every animal at a pet store comes from a Puppy Mill!!
But not really. This is just what ignorant and stupid people have been told by other people who are equally ignorant and stupid. From there they have never bothered to research the subject themselves (electing to believe what they want to) and slanderously repeat it to anyone who will listen.
Actually there's no such thing as a Puppy Mill, it's just a generic term for any breeder that vaules profit over the welfare of their animals. Unfortunately the term has become propaganda created for idiots to make them aware of something unknown and scary to them... ...and to feed their fear and cause unnecessary panic. A better word for 'puppy mill' is 'boogey man', or 'the Japanese.'
Yet on a daily basis I have to combat this ignorance and educate the general public on my industry. It sucks having to dignify stupid allegations from grown adults who still believe in the boogey man.
The seventh circle of hell where cute little fluffy puppies are euthanized for NO REASON
I was not aware of it, but I am apparently Satan's suck-bitch. Did you know this? I didn't know this! But if you ask any person who enters my store they will tell you about the horrible things that take place there.
In addtion to the ridiculous Puppy Mill PARANOIA, there also seems to be a lot of confusion about how a pet store is run in regards to what happens to the dogs that are not sold. I can only speak for where I work, but the owner of my store marks down the dogs until someone takes them, insuring that they all find a home. Apparently this logic is inconceivable to most, as I hear people whispering amongst themselves about what happens.
So exactly what happens?
It is somehow a common belief that all the unsold dogs get euthanized (my word: my customers wouldn't know what it means so they use the world 'kill' instead) due simply to the fact that they don't sell. And yes, I did say COMMON belief. An abundant amount of people have admitted to me that they are actually stupid enough to believe that a store in the mall kills healthy animals simply because they have gotten old.
Trust in the fact that if there was any killing taking place in my store by my hand, the animals would not be the ones on the receiving-end.
That will be it for today, the Seventh circle of Hell needs me back.
Until next time...
Hey guys! K it's been forever. I've missed you. For my return I bring you a picture taken by my BFF Citranella while she was shopping for camping supplies. She sent this to masking "what kind of picnic do people go on nowadays?"
I promise stories soon.