I just spent the last three days not waiting tables because I found a better gig. By “better” I mean that it paid more money and isn’t that the bottom line for all of us? I sold jewelry at a trade show and was on my feet for nine hours straight for three days in a row. And for my lazy ass, that is something. If you think you deal with some bitches when they are ordering their hot tea, you should try dealing with them when they are ordering $15,000 worth of jewelry These are women who are buying for their fancy little boutiques around the country and they feel like since they are spending thousands of dollars, they have a right to treat me like shit because I am the loser who who is writing up the order. My God. At least with waiting tables, I know what I am dealing with. I can just set down the cup of coffee and move on. But these ladies get all up in your face and scrutinize every single solitary thing that you do to ensure their order is exactly how they want it. Granted, I don’t blame them for being particular, but do they have to be so goddamn mother fucking pull the stick out of their fat ass rude? And if you think substitutions on a dinner entree are bad, you have no idea what it can be like when there are over 1000 pieces of jewelery with over a hundred different semi-precious stones and they can be mixed and matched until there is no tomorrow. They could pick up a perfectly beautiful necklace that had four different stones on it, but when they learned you could change the stones their eyes lit up because they saw an opportunity to be a nit-picky whore. They would proceed to decipher a way to make the necklace as complicated as possible so the the order I am writing looks like freakin’ hieroglyphics from hell. And the words please, thank you and you’re welcome do not exist in the dictionaries that these women own. They are not in their lexicon. Nope.
I was happy to get my check yesterday but it was definitely earned. After three days of selling bracelets, earrings, rings, necklaces, broaches, bangles, baubles, beads and cock rings (just kidding on that last one) there are a few new phrases I can do without hearing for a long time:
- Isn’t that darling?
- That is precious.
- We are trying to tell a story with the pieces.
- Oh what a soft/bright/strong/bold/interesting/daring color palate that is.
- How does this look on me?
- This looks so good on me.
- Can I get this in two weeks? (It’s hand made and takes six months. There are no mythical jewlery elves that come in the night and shit out a $3000 necklace.)
- Gimme that.
- Take this.
- I’m in a hurry.
- I work for “insert name of person I am supposed to know or give a shit about”.
- Why is it so expensive? (It’s gold, lady. It ain’t aluminum and tin foil.)
- Oh, the minimum is $5,000? What if i just want one pieces that is $500? (What do you think, bitch?)
- It’s magical. (Yes, someone actually said that.)
But that job is done. On to the next one which will be back at the club doing what I do. Carrying a tray and then coming home to bitch about it. By the way, does anyone get the reference in the title of the post?
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