Andare, Partire, Tornare

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How are these people remembering to breathe?

So could somebody tell me why I was absolutely exhausted all day today, and then when I finally make my way home, flop my tired body down on the bed to sleep, I find myself staring at the ceiling?

I'd blame the massive coffee intake, but that was at about nine am, so I hardly think it's still coursing through my body. I'm not a big coffee drinker, but I figured I needed it, so I got a chocolate brownie frappucino. Boy, did it make me surly. Peppy, but surly. And it didn't help that I was dealing with people from the idiot side of the tracks.

Actual Conversation With Idiot Customer

Genibee: I've washed your dog for you! He's all nice and clean now.

Idiot Customer: I just got him from the breeder today. He was really stinky. Why was he so stinky?

Genibee: Well, he had some poop stuck to his fur. That might have done it. But he's all clean now.

Customer asks a question about trimming toenails. It is answered. Customer studies dog for a moment.

Idiot Customer: He was really stinky. Will he always be that stinky?

Genibee: Well, he was stinky because of the poop stuck to him. So I think that as long as you keep that from happening, he won't stink.

Another pause. A brief discussion about good books to get on new puppy ownership. Then, another question.

Idiot Customer: I couldn't believe how stinky he was when I picked him up from the breeder. Is that normal? Why was he so stinky?

In all seriousness, she asked me why her fucking little backyard bred furball was smelly FIVE TIMES. And every time, I replied it was because he had FECAL MATTER STUCK IN HIS FUR. Which would make anybody smelly. But apparently that concept was past this woman's ability to understand.

And I nearly got bitten by a corgi. A cute corgi, yes - but a corgi willing to use his teeth to defend himself from me, the Horrid Person Who Wished To Put Him In A Kennel For God Knows What Torture. And he's owned by two people who would have more of a clue as to what they're doing with him if they bought a book on reptile care and followed it to the letter. The dog is snarling and biting the owner's hand, and he's *laughing* and saying in an ickle baby voice, "Be good for your bath, little Mackie-mackie. Be good for daddy."

I wish they let me carry a taser at work.

11:22 p.m. - 2003-06-28

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