Danny Goes To Work: Santa's Village

I used to refer to my workplace as Hell, but after a few recent events there, I've come to the conclusion that I, in fact, work at Santa's Village. And not the cool one in Lapland, Finland. I'm talking about one of those cheap and shitty pop-up ones that you see at major shopping centres during the Christmas season. The wonderous place that I work at has become a wonderous fake snow infested hovel complete with elves in the back. All of the girls they've hired for seasonal work, with I think the exception of one, are short.  I'm not a giant, but I've got a lot of strength. I like to lift a bit on my days off. I take pride in my brute strength. I almost feel like a Marvel character. 

And I'm stood there wondering where the fuck all the guys are. I don't know why they'd make this a primarily female department. You need to be able to lift heavy totes of merchandise or heavy furniture items that we sell. They can always get a step stool or something, but come on. They're always harping about work safety and even have a little poster about it featuring a cartoon safety cone (which I find completely tasteless, we're grown adults not kindergarteners in the sandbox.) so why don't they actually, I don't know, make it easier to maintain these standards? Seems like a crazy idea to me. I've heard a rumour that some of the seasonal hires are men for my department and I hope they're MEN. You know, guys who can lift shit...Welp, there's one bloke and he's a complete tosser. He's posh and arrogant and he really doesn't want to cross me or I will hang him up by his penny loafers.

I don't know what's going on in the heads of the people making these decisions. Some of the girls are nice, some of them are dumb as fuck. I had to give one of them instructions 6 goddamn times! The same line over and over again! I felt like I was possessed or something. All I could think of was "Lord, if she ever gets into the sex industry, there's gonna be a lot of unhappy customers. You need a girl who understands what you want and how you want it the first time round. There isn't a learning curve in this industry. There's no special needs programme!" Actually, there isn't one where I work either. She's got no brains, no tits and no ass so I have no idea how she got the job in the first place. This isn't just me complaining this is just me blowing off some steam so I can drag my ass back there when I'm on the shift and hold onto a little bit of my fleeting sanity. I don't mean to sound sexist here, but I really, truly wonder how she got hired when she has no attributes whatsoever. And then people ask me why I don't believe in God. This is just one other prime example of why I'm a non-believer.  

I don't know. I stand in the back sometimes and watch the little ladies run around in the back or struggle to lift things. It brings me so much joy. It's one of those small pleasures in life that I've talked about focusing on. There is a part of me hoping that they will put on the little elf costumes and shuffle around the store, carrying packages of merchandise customers have ordered online and are going to pick up in the store. Can I make this a thing? Will management let this happen? I mean they're cool with some of them wearing ultra tight yoga bottoms/leggings that show their panties through them, so why can't sleazy elves be a thing? Maybe I'm getting a little head of myself with these Christmas ideas, it is still October and Halloween is a week away- speaking of Halloween, they have me working that day-my goddamn feast day. Thankfully it's in the morning so I'll be out early in the afternoon to pick up booze and all the necessary gear to have a great Halloween and scar the children that come to my house.

(And another thing, I don't want co-workers who read this blog to get all butt-hurt over it. It's simple humour, that's it. Grow a spine...it might help with more than one thing. Oh, there I go again. HAHA)