web-goddess

Hooray! Mary-Helen finally got her invite to the party. Any other Aussies finally get their invites?

I just found out that Gleebooks is hosting a talk this coming Tuesday with Nikki Greenberg about her new graphic novel adaptation of The Great Gatsby. “At this event, Nicki will use projector and screen to take us through the process of creating a graphic novel. A must for artists and graphic novel devotees.” Sounds pretty cool, huh? Tickets are $10. Let me know if you’re interested in going!

Home Inspection Nightmares. Yikes. My favorite is the tobaccy tin.

Awesome. I think I’ve just found the perfect piece of furniture to complement the house we’re buying. The only question is: pandas or sharks?

EEP! Sometime in the night, Ravelry announced a “limited edition beta run” of T-shirts! (You have to click on the home page to get the link, which is why I almost didn’t see it.) I know I should’ve waited to combine postage with other people, but I couldn’t resist making an order straight away.

Hmm. Any of you know how to interpret a Strata Inspection Report?

No, I did not talk like a pirate at any time yesterday. However I will admit to chuckling at the “Pirate Sale” sign in the window of our local Student Flights: “If it be on the sea, it be on sale!”

Two thoughts on the whole “Pumpkin” thing:

• Man, you couldn’t make this stuff up. If they catch this guy, it’s going to be the Australian criminal case of this century.
• I bet Pumpkin Patch are loving this free – albeit sordid – publicity.

I wonder if the US cops will catch him…

“You gotta loosen up, my friend. You’d feel a hell of a lot better if you’d rip into the occasional customer.” – Randall from Clerks

I finally did it. You know, there’s only so much abuse one person can take. And today, on the phone, the biggest beeyotch in the world finally made me lose my cool. It had already been an extremely busy day, and I was trying to cover the lunch shift alone so Chrystalla could get something to eat. The phone rang, and as soon as I picked it up the customer started attacking me. She said she’d rung that morning to order some wool and whoever she’d spoken to had “promised to call her back in two hours,” and she’d been sitting in her house that whole time unable to go anywhere for fear she’d miss the call. And she was terribly angry. I went into extreme-politeness mode, apologizing and trying to explain that we’d been really busy, and unfortunately there didn’t seem to be any note about her wool order, so she’d have to wait until Chrystalla got back. She proceeded to RIP ME A NEW ONE. “If I’d been IN THE STORE, it wouldn’t have taken two hours to find out about my yarn!” “Yes, ma’am, I’m very sorry, but it’s difficult to ignore several customers standing at the counter to deal with phone enquiries, which is why she said she’d call you back…” “But I phoned FIRST, so I should’ve been BEFORE THOSE PEOPLE!” I kept trying to placate, explaining that I didn’t really know the details of what she was after, so it might be that Chrystalla was trying to call the supplier or query the warehouse or whatever. She was having none of it. “I AM EXTREMELY ANGRY,” she snotted. “I’ve never been treated like this from a shop before.” “Well, ma’am, if you give me the details of the yarn, I might be able to chase that up for you.” “WHAT, you’re going to do in five minutes what she couldn’t do in TWO HOURS?” Starting to get frazzled now. I finally convinced her to tell me what wool it was, and I realized that there had been a note, it just didn’t have a name on it (and if she’d told me the wool to begin with, it would’ve saved ten minutes of arguing). “I’ve actually got your order here, and I’ve been trying to fill it,” I said. “I’ve got all of one colour, but we’re missing two packets of the second. I’m trying to locate it for you.” “WELL, HOW MUCH LONGER IS THAT GOING TO TAKE?” Deep breath. “Well, I do have several customers waiting at the moment, so I’m going to have to call you back.” “Can you PROMISE that you’ll call by the end of the day? Because otherwise I’LL TAKE MY BUSINESS ELSEWHERE.”

That did it. I barked, “Fine. I’ll call you by the end of the day. AND THANK YOU, FOR BEING SO PLEASANT.” And I slammed down the phone. The other customers waiting at the counter applauded.

Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.

Update: Chrystalla just told me that she finally rang the customer back, and evidently I must’ve “put her in her place.” She didn’t say a word about her conversation with me. HARRUMPH.

Later Update: THAT COW! She called Albert to complain that I was rude to her. Whatever.

Russell has come up with another way to get back in my good graces. I’m starting to relent.