I work at a drugstore. You need to know that because 90% of the ridiculous crap that happens to me happens at work. Why is it necessary to know it's a drugstore? Because CRAZY people shop at drugstores. Normal people go to a supermarket or Target or Wal-Mart and buy everything they need there.
So, tonight there were these two girls wandering around the store, younger than me, all tarted up. I noticed them because they were all giggly and doing stupid girl things. After about fifteen minutes sifting through our V-Day clearance table, they bought something and left.
As they walked out the door, I heard a wolf whistle, and all I could think was "Oh, God, please don't let that be one of the creeps that's always in here. And if it is, please don't let him rape them before I can call the cops."
It wasn't one of the creeps. It was two teenage boys who will probably grow up to be creeps. But, now, I'm seriously concerned about my initial reaction. Am I really that cynical? Do I really think men are that degenerate?
Well, not all of them. Just the ones who come in the store. I've got to get another job.
Field notes of a serially single girl searching for the most elusive creature known to man: an eligible bachelor.
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