This entry contains swear words, so don't read it if you don't f-ing want to
The manager of the inn comes into the gallery this morning. "I need you to take down your going-out-of-business sign. I've been getting calls from people wondering if the inn is going out of business."
I look at him in disbelief.
"...Or maybe you could black out the first part, so it only says sale."
I continue my blank stare.
"I mean, I'm getting calls with people thinking the INN is going out of business!!!"
"No," i finally say, "You're right. I'll have to alter the sign. I mean, we didn't make any fucking money all year, why should we expect to recoop some of those losses now, right? I'm losing my job and we've lost hundreds of thousands of dollars on this shitty location, but got forbid your receptionist be inconveniences with a few phone calls. I'll get up there right now with a black sharpie and manually color in the white letters for several hours to ease the nerves of your retarted clientelle."
In summation, there are not words to describe how much i have been fucked up the ass by this business venture. ("Fucked up the ass" comes pretty close, though.) My job is to take shit from the customers, take shit from the bosses, take shit from the inn ass-holes, and work un-paid overtime. Anything else? Oh, and YOU CAN NEVER GO TO THE BATHROOM DURING THE DAY BECAUSE THERE'S NO ONE ELSE TO COVER THE STORE. If i could take a business course in not-being-everybody's-fucking-doormat i would. Only the description of that course would be you-deserve-what-you-get-you-loser-pussy-who-never-sticks-up-for-herself.
By the way, i folded over the going-out-of-business part of the sign. In two weeks, i am so fucking out of here.