Junk in the Trunk

I went out shopping today for shoes and came home with a little black dress. And no shoes. Whoops. I swear, I wasn't even going to go in the fitting room. And yet, there I was, with this cute little black thing draped over my arm that had leapt from the rack to my grabby little mitts. Everything happened so quickly that I didn't even look at the size. I only saw that it was Kenneth Cole and marked down to $40 from $128. And that it was so cute!

Well, as I'm ripping off my clothes in the fitting room wishing I wasn't wearing a sports bra, I happen to glance at the size. It is a 2.

Just so we're clear, these are the types of women that wear a size 2:

I usually wear a size 6, maybe a size 8 if it runs "smaller" in the booty. (What? I have junk in my trunk carried by my child-bearer hips) If it has more "generous" sizing, I might be able to squeeze myself into a 4. But a TWO???

I haven't worn a two since... since... well, since never! I went straight from kiddie sizes to sprouted hips in one fell swoop. I remember being in middle school and wishing I had the ruler shaped bodies of my schoolmates, thinking I was fat because my body curved out from my waist.  (Lord don't get me started on my 12 year old self's body image!)

Well, I had already stripped off my clothes so I figure, what the heck? It will be too small. I won't be able to get it over my now-loved hourglass shape (read: hip bones and booty and junk). I'll just try to get it on to see if I should even hunt and search for a bigger size. --there was only one on the rack, hence my quick snatch and run to the fitting room. I prepare to suck in the guts as far as they will go, think thin thoughts, step in and -- WHAT THE WHAT??? Praise stretchy fabric and it's smooth ride over my hide!

Always! Gawd, Marilyn, you're so smart. 

Ok, so it fits over my rump, surely the long sleeves are going to be way to short on my gangly arms. I pull the dress all the way up, zip up the back and... do mine eyes deceive me? Does this LBD actually fit?? I have to look at my reflection no less than four mirrors just to verify that I don't look like sausage being squeezed out of its casing.

BTW, don't google "sausage casing" unless you want to be grossed out.
I don't think I will be eating that again. ever. Berf.

Well, even if the four mirrors at the store lied, I came home and tried it on for the roomie, and she agreed that it fit! Wahoooooo!!!! (does happy dance)

Mama's got a new LBD! ...now if only I had somewhere to wear it...

wishful thinking

When I applied for this job they indicated that I would be working five hour shifts comprised of twenty-five minute presentations followed by twenty minute breaks.  So there was no lunch break scheduled in.  No big deal because it would only be five hours total and several large breaks in between, right? uhm, NO.  They also said I would average between $600-800/week.  BHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!! hilarious. except, not.

:/

First, if you're the morning shift you're expected to get there about 45 minutes to an hour early to set everything up for the day or conversely if you're an evening shift stay about 45 minutes or an hour after to close everything down for the night. Plus about 30 minutes on the opposite end of your shift for the shift-change duties.  Second, these "20 minute breaks" are actually time in between presentations where you spend at least 15 of those minutes cleaning up from your last show/setting up for your next show.  You may or may not have five minutes to use the restroom, eat, or send a text message. Your total day is closer to 7 1/2 hours with no break.

Let me paint a picture of what this looks like.  You arrive at your national chain grocery store and find where there is a large booth.  Usually it is in the coldest part of the store near the meat or produce sections.  You turn on a GOBO light that flashes the company logo in multi-colored 80's-ness all over the ceiling. You find the produce cooler and get your pesticide-ridden grossly oversized produce (have you ever seen a carrot the size of a coke can?) that has been purchased from somewhere that is obviously downwind of a nuclear power plant and bring those to the booth.  You count stock, buy a cantaloupe and make a melon basket (for the show; don't ask), fill your water pails, and a few other tasks to get ready.

Then, you go over the store's pager system and try and hustle up some people to watch you slice and dice.  "Ladieeeeees and gentlemen.  May I have your attention please! I'm going to give you a free gift in order to entice you to let your ice cream melt for 20 minutes while I show you a kitchen tool that you don't need, didn't come here to buy, but is really handy if you have an extra thirty bucks! Head on over to the white booth where you see the flashing light on the ceiling and wait for my to get my butt from one side of the store to the other. I'll be there once I make one more annoying announcement over the PA system."  (wait about 30-45 seconds) "This is your second annoying announcement! If you want a free piece of plastic, pretty please come to my booth so I can try to sell you something so I can hopefully pay my bills! Pretty please! Ok, I'm on my way over there now! Are you there yet? Please be there.  Thank you."

Of course the phone that you have to use for the announcement invariably is on the other side of the huge conglomerate store so you race over and with any luck greet a group of people (usually around 5-10 shoppers) that hopefully aren't completely annoyed that they've been waiting two whole minutes for you to get there.  You greet them, and then one more announcement at the booth to try and get one or two more stragglers to watch you slice and dice.

Finally.  You're ready.  You show them the free gift and how to use it.  You hope that everyone at least stays for the free gift. You hand out the free gift and beg them to stay for the main part of the presentation.  You present the slicer-dicer.  Most people oooh and ahhh, and usually at least one or two leave during the presentation.  Now, remember not to be too nice.  People don't like you if you're nice.  (WTF???) They think you're trying to sell them something. (duh) So be kind of bitchy.  Now you've chopped and diced nine different pieces of produce and displayed them nicely on your cutting board. Deep breath.  Now you've got to sell them on the price.  Make sure you go slow.  Like, so slow you feel more uncomfortable than you've ever felt.  People are dumb (remember they don't like nice people; how smart can they be) and cannot make a decision so you've got to give them time.

this is not me.  

By then end, hopefully you've got a few takers. The worst is when they all  stay for the whole 25 minutes and then say "thank you" and leave.  You know you were too nice if they do that.  Quit being so nice!!! (side note, why the hell would you stay for a presentation for 25 minutes in the grocery store if you weren't going to buy the thing! honestly. who throws a shoe!?!)

Anyway, lets just say this second week of presentations hasn't exactly been going great.  I have sold some, but not nearly enough to make ends meet or even point in the direction of meeting.  I think I'm going to turn in my two weeks notice. That will give me one more week of guaranteed money and then one week of "you're on your own" commission-only money.  If by some stroke of luck I learn how to not be nice (but not toooo much of a bitch either) and can start to sell a reasonable amount, I'll rescind my two weeks.  And I'll use that money to buy a parka because hell will surely have frozen over.

B-List BFF

I worked a temporary job over the weekend stuffing envelopes.  A *VERY* awesome company Milk and Honey Shoes run by a sweet funny young woman who overwhelmed herself with a living social deal.  She needed a few extra hands on deck and we were paid accordingly... meaning, considering we were literally stuffing envelopes we were paid well for the type of work, but considering how much I usually make at a job it was pennies.  So, it was a few extra bucks over the weekend but not a career move. Although if there were free shoes involved... I might just have to reconsider.

*drool*

Well, there was this one guy there that had the sense of desperation about him financially.  He needed to be paid daily rather than after the whole weekend so that he could eat over the weekend.  Now, I don't judge that because I have been there.  But this is the same guy that was all name-droppy with who he lives with and who his BFF is.  Roomie is a working actor on some TV show and BFF is at least B List having been on multiple shows as a series regular/lead.  Then he casually mentions all these other "famous" people that are his friends.  This confuses me... he apparently has written some TV scripts, but none of his famous friends can help him out? I mean, he was all, "me and bestie do this and that together" and "me and bestie are bestie's." Well, certainly "bestie" can at least get you a job interview/meeting, right?

People are so weird about the entertainment industry.  It is the most nepotistic industry that exists, and yet people don't want to ask their friends for help in getting a job! I mean, if you and I were both doctors and I needed a job, you'd get me an interview with your hospital, right??? Wouldn't you? Or if we were teachers and you found out that a local school district was hiring, you'd let me know, right???? Right??? Well, I'd do that for you.

Anyway, this guy keeps whipping out his phone on every break showing us some instagram pics of him and celeb-bestie, showing a pic of her drinking coffee and how he had to send her a pic of him drinking coffee so they could be having coffee together even though they were apart. (eye roll) Then, he made it a point of saying he had to make a phone call. Well, guess who doesn't answer? mmmyeah.  So then a little while later, he tries again.  Still no answer.

Listen, I'm reallyreallyreally important and I have reallyreallyreally important friends. 

Not to be undone, he points out that he stayed at her house last night so he could get to work easily in the morning because she is on this side of town.  "Oh, see we're besties, so I can stay at her house." Well, apparently this B-Lister doesn't mind that you are profoundly annoying. 

*SIGH* If only people would be as awesome as me...