miracles, marvels, and magical remedies

we lost another girl at the salon today. she didn't call, didn't show up for the second day in a row, and poor manager lady's so fed up with crap like this that the poor girl's gone. i have no idea what the circumstances of the new-yet-soon-to-be-gone girl's situation is, and frankly i really don't care.

her being fired makes no difference to my workload.

the miracle is that an older couple asked if there was any job for their seventeen year-old granddaughter at the salon. the manager lady and i both perked up our ears, and she couldn't stop gushing about how we need help while i couldn't jot down our website fast enough.

also, we've not only been severely shorthanded at the salon lately, but some of our most vital equipment died three weeks ago, and we haven't been getting in our new supply orders for the last month or so. we've been having to borrow from other stores, or take inventory off our own floor. it's been a nightmare. and i've been coming in a half-hour early (off the clock) to prep the back because of our broken machinery, which means having to mix every single soap we have by hand, and making sure there's a fresh bottle at each station, in addition to everything else i do to open the salon. frankly, i really have to wonder how we've been pulling off the work we have, since all of us have been running out of orifices from which to pull out miracles.

and yet we do, every single day.

so someone from the pet care dept. discovers, "hey, what are all those boxes up on the steel rafters?" turns out our orders had been coming in, it's just that no one in supply (night shift) actually did what they were supposed to. they're supposed to stack it all in our salon and let us unpack it, but nooooo. instead they just took the forklift and put it up in the rafters and didn't tell anyone, didn't label anything, and let it sit there while we worked our asses off, running around like decapitated poultry with no supplies and less-than-adequate staff.

so the other day, five weeks' worth of supplies were stacked up along the wall. it felt like freakin' yule in there. and somewhere in-between sepuku sunday and yesterday, our equipment was repaired. i can go back to taking my time opening up shop again.

and poor *v*. she had that tears-pressing-behind-the-eyes look she gets when she's stressed out. she's really emotional, and you barely have to scratch the surface to get tons of emotion out of her. but once i learned how she needs to be handled, she's great. but she was leaving for a break and turned back to me. "if i seem a little snappish today, i'm sorry," she said. "i really don't know what's wrong with me, but i think it's pms."

me: "eat chocolate!"
*v*: "i've been eating lots of chocolate, but i think it's just making it worse."
the manager lady: "what about a nap after you get home, or something?"
*v*: "no, i got my daughter. plus, i haven't been sleeping well."
me: "buy a vibrator!"
all of us: *falling in a heap of giggles*
the manager lady: "hey, yeah! y'know, you could get one of those wallet-sized ones. oh, dang, what are they called?"
me: "the bullet!"
the manager lady: "yeah, that's it! go buy a bullet. they're so awesome..."
*v*: *blushing and laughing* "oh, delena, that's the first time i've laughed all day."

hey, welcome to the wonderful world of vibratory magical remedies, baby, yeah! i know when i bought johnny west it was great. cheered me right up, even though at the time my (then) husband and i hadn't seen any action for two years. i suppose he just found his socks far more interesting. but i bought johnny, and WOW! it was great!

endless hours of harrassing the stupid-ass big *c* cheered me right the fuck up. i'd turn it on and stick it in his ear, or poke him in the ass and shriek with laughter as he freaked out, oh, all sorts of things. i'd stand it up right in front of the alarm clock so when it went off in the morning, johnny was the first thing big *c* grabbed.

oh, it was great.

and yeah, leave it to me to know exactly what the manager lady was talking about and call it by name. i've actually been thinking about buying a bullet for a while. it just seems too practical a "just in case" item to have stashed in the purse, y'know? except...i dunno. i never use them for their original intended purpose. i guess i'm just not really that much of a manage au moi kind of girl, and i've never had an... *ahem* ...open-minded playmate who didn't feel threatened by toys. i'd rather wait, and let the anticipation build until "business" has me knocking over my headboard to the Shrine of Sci-Fantasy Goodness and i'm scraping my brains off the ceiling.

but hey, that's just me.