Welcome to Interventions. Someone who cares about you has sent you this link because you are drinking too much/use drugs to avoid pain/talk like a baby when addressing animals/use idiot marketspeak like 'massclusive'/are bad at the sex/give shitty presents/order foreign food items using the pronunciation of their country of origin/use transparent techniques to try and hide the fact you're smelling your finger/laugh by yourself in order to get attention/are too touchy-feely/are physically distant/wear those rubber looking shoes with holes in them. But don't worry we like you, we'd just like a different you even more.
Are all the idiots gone yet?
Good day everyone who doesn't hate me for existing and actually read instead of skimming and thinking that i am a substanceless douche, yes yes. Get yourself a pair of fluffy slippers and a big glass of milk because I'm gonna feed you a big slice of life with pink icing and sprinkles on the top.
I work retail, in a clothing store inside a really big, 4-floors mall that has a food court that reminds me of a spaceship. This mall is situated in downtown Montreal, and like in any very urban areas you get your share and a half of crazy people.
Now that the setting is established, onward we skip now, to an EPIC TALE.
An adventure vignette.
An unsettling anecdote.
A tale of mild bravoury.
An old-fashioned jaunty yarn told to the tune of Whiskey in The Jar.
Okay, a boring story.
The store I work in is a woman's clothing outlet, full of colorful and sometimes glittery outfits. So when a big guy with a black beanie, leather coat and a tattoo on the side of his neck walked in alone, I got a little beacon of caution blinking in my head. At this point I am standing behind the counter, at the cash register. He walks up to me, pretends to look at the mannequin next to me. I see him throwing obvious glances at the cash register, and he asks me suddenly if I can get him a dress in a specific size, conveniently hung at the exact opposite end of the store. And it's my job, and I have nothing credible to support my beliefs that this guy is a total turdblossom. So I do as he says. But keep my attention at its peak.
Obviously, the moment he came to the conclusion that I was far away enough for his tastes, I heard the sound of the cash register opening. I turn around, and catch the dude red-handed in poorly executed theft. There aren't any other customers in the store.
So I stare.
And walk out of the store in silence.
And locked him in like in a little glass cage full of pritty pritty lady's clothing.
Turns out, that guy stole money from two stores in the mall before coming here. The security agents were looking for him already.
Twas pretty rad to see him getting manhandled.
I'm kinda glad this happened, working monday evenings is normally boring as hell.