Dear whatever the fuck your name is-
I truly feel your pain. Not only do you work part-time at one of the biggest retail franchises in the world still legally promoting "slave labor" and dependance on welfare; but on the day we had our "encounter", it also seems that earlier in the shift, you had shit your pants. I was sure that because of your nearly non-existant wages and embarrassingly small employee discount, you couldn't have afforded to buy a newly pressed and less shitty pair of khakis from the neighborhood flea market, let alone from the very establishment you work in.
So I forgave you temporarily for your disgusting display of excrement.
Although this day we met you clearly were having issues, I don't understand why my simple request for you to grab me a copy of the Underworld trilogy was so hard for you to complete. You ARE working in the movies and electronics section of walmart, in case you didnt know. I stayed up, eyes burning and all til 12 am wandering aimlessly through Walmart just to get it. I had cold, hard, CASH.. 60 dollars to be exact and I wanted to blow it all on the blue-ray edition of Underworld. I am almost positive that my mere purchase of this blue-ray disc set was going to go toward paying your entire years salary, but you being the worthless, un-grateful cunt you are had to go and cop an attitude.
After waiting in line for almost an hour, when it came to be my turn to come up to the register, I approached you slowly and made eye contact for less than a nanosecond, and then you squawked "GIVE ME A SECOND!!" and put your hand up in the air as if to say, "Oh no she didn't", without actually saying it.
I thought, What a bitch. But I continued to wait in silence for you to finish doing whatever it was that you were fucking doing. Finally, after about 15 minutes, you shrugged and rolled your eyes, then did one of those tilted head, chest out, on the defensive moves before frowning and scoffing, then finally shouting "TWAT can I help you with?" I noticed your 'not wanting to be at work' attitude right from the get-go. I brushed it off moments earlier trying to think about how I would feel about myself and my job if all I did was restock DVD's, and occasionally pull out a video game for a geeky teen. There must be a requirement at Walmart as far as being borderline retarded cause it seems like I'm always running into douche-bags there. It's like when you walk in for an interview they must have a robot asking a set of questions like, "Did you eat paint chips as a child?" Or, "Were you the product of incest?".. "If you answered yes to either of these questions, Congratulations! You're Hired!" I mean honestly, what kind of gargantuan life mistakes would have to have been made in ones life to end up passing out carts and checking bags on the graveyard shift thier local Walmart? I don't even want to know.
Finally, after being distracted by the last tooth hanging in your dragon mouth and thinking, "Wow, that really resembles a piece of corn" I explained I was there to pick up the new release of Underworld. You grimaced again like you were too much of a twit and much too monsterous to come out of your little box to look for it. Just then a kid in the back with bad dandruff shouted he wanted Underworld too. So I thought, 'YES, strength in numbers, this dumb shit mongrel is gonna HAVE to find my movie now.' Of course your bitch-ass scowled like a cat in heat before walking over to the new release rack, rummaging through May 12th Midnight releases quickly before deciding that was enough work for the day and that Walmart didn't have it. But not before bending over in my face and not ONLY displaying your colossally shit covered behind, but also bending far enough down to where I was staring directly at your stretch mark covered tit sacks. The get-up Walmart provided you with was clearly too stretched out to be considered appropriate, and thanks to your unwanted display, I now have an image burned into my retinas that will surely haunt my dreams for years to come.
You trashy CUNT. What happened to the happy go lucky Walmart employees that wander around knocking down smiling prices all day? What happened to them!?! What happened to a certain level of competence to handle remedial duties being required from employees at any job? What the FUCK happened to that? Had you been wearing a name-tag I would have screamed for a manager and hopefully got your bitch-ass fired, but since you had not I was left standing there, helpless, with 60 dollars in my pocket and nothing to spend it on. I am completely positive at one time you DID have a name-tag, but over time somehow it got sucked into one of your enormous rolls, or you used your last snaggle tooth to sharpen and fashion it into some sort of shank, so you could mangle boxes filled with new crap needing to be put on shelves. Either way that is fucking disgusting.
I just want you to know, I got my copy of Underworld. I waited till you walked away and I searched the rack myself. There, right on top, lay a perfectly crisp and seemingly 'just vaccuum sealed' copy of the trilogy. You tried to stop me from leaving your section without paying at your little box you ruthless bitch, but I ignored your barking and walked straight to the register upfront. You can thank your ridiculous attitude for the fact that the fat hoe on the cigarette lane is now going to get her bonus. My sixty dollars is all she needed to push her quarterly sales over the edge. Thank yourself you worthless harlot.
I hope your nights are filled with loose, watery shit for years to come. I hope your sphincter loses all elasticity and you end up a walking, talking hemorrhoidal/defecation-stain forever. I hope your last tooth rots out of your fucking skull and you have nothing left to sharpen your shanks with. I hope you get fired you toothless wonder. I really do.
Lastly, but not least, go FUCK yourself.
With absolutely no love-
Jess
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