Saturdazed

The day after Black Friday doesn't have a cute name that we know of, so we'll just call it Saturday. We were prepared to be super-busy at Floofity's but it was actually a little bit boring. We both agreed that this was indictative of Serious Economic Problems in America and are using it as further evidence for our Vote Democratic or Die argument.

One of the services that Floofity's offers is custom printing. That is, if you buy a package of notecards, they'll take them and print your name on all of them for just five dollars. Don't get too excited, they just run them on an Epson printer, just like you could do, but we suppose it's worth it for some people to not sit there and cuss at their printer because they forgot to load the stock upside down or whatever. One of us has experience doing this, so we started off on Saturday in the back room printing notecards. It's alarming how many people are named things like Rayleigh and Caleb and Carmondy and Lawson and Parker. Where are these people from, other than White Person Ville? Where are the Prudences, the Dorises, the Hildegards? Where is Shatangé or Leroy? We swear to god, if we ever meet a Shaylee in person, we're going to punch her just on principle.

We did have a little more real wrapping to do on Saturday, but there's not enough room to do it. If we were any wrap-busier, we'd be in trouble. The only drama all day long was when a full-grown man dropped a lava lamp on the floor. We ask you: what is a full-grown man doing looking at a lava lamp? Is he looking to swank up his bachelor pad? Will the chicks dig it? What? It's a mystery.

So far, we're both surprised at how well we've handled it; we both had a moment when we realized that the amount of money we had each made in a day was less than the amount we normally bill in an hour at our real jobs, and honestly? Retail is hard, so one thing we have promised is to be nicer to retail workers in general. Except that one miserable little bitch who works at our local Kroger. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.