___ Things I Hate About You

As if there were only 10 things I hate about you. I have a long list. Forgive me that it is not in fourteen verse iambic pentameter with rhyming couplets.



I hate when you walk in the store with your child and loudly announce "OK, we are just going to look. We're not buying ANYTHING." You should not willingly enter my store if this is your motto.

I hate when you let your child suck on a toy that you don't buy for them.

I hate when your child puts something back in the wrong place because they don't take the time to put it back where they found it.

I hate when you tell your child to put something back in the wrong spot because "that's what they pay these people for."

I hate when your child throws up in my store.

I hate when, after your child throws up in my store, you say "Don't worry. It didn't get on any merchandise." Yes, that is true, but it's still disgusting.

I hate when you ask me to help you find something that you insist is not on the shelf where it should be and, ten minutes later, turns out to be on the shelf where it should be.

I hate when you spill beer in my store. Or icees. But beer smells worse so I hate that a little more.

I hate when I have to explain tax to your children.

I hate when I have to explain tax to you.

If there's one thing I hate more than 10 year old children with their faces painted like the Joker (seeing as how The Dark Knight is way beyond their maturity level), it's middle aged women wearing Twilight shirts.

I lied. I hate when said children with painted faces try on masks and since the masks are usually to high for them to reach, they must have an accomplice. I'm looking at you, Mom and Dad. Or possibly you, Grandma and Grandpa. Or over at you, Fun Aunt.

I hate when your children take money out of their sock to pay me.

I hate when you take money out of your bra to pay me.

I hate when you tell your child that that toy is too expensive while you pull your iPhone out of your Louis Vuitton purse.

I hate that your 10 year old child has a nicer cell phone than me.

I hate that you think I am personally responsible for the pricing of products, exhibits being closed and long lines at the gate.

I hate when you wait until you are at the counter with a line of people behind you to ask your child "Do you really need this?" They are a child; the answer is always yes.

I hate when you ask the price of something that has a price tag visibly on it.

I hate that you find the fact that I do not know the exact price, location, and quantity of every single product in the zoo ridiculous. How about you try telling me the location and price of everything in your house. With tax.



I think this is a good start to my list. It's just the tip of the iceberg.