Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

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MKTheVintageBloke
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Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

Post by MKTheVintageBloke » March 5th 2021, 4:29pm

It's been a while since my last Musings. In some respects, a lot has been going on, in some respects nothing has been going on.

Since the Saleslass quit, the staff is down to three. That's not counting the regional manager, who now is also the store manager. Obviously, part-time, because she's got a few other shops to take care of. Which means that technically we're just making do on our own. All things related to watches have become exclusively my burden. I once took pride in taking care of the matter, but when half of the bloody shop is my responsibility, it somehow became a cross that I have to bear. That's no fun at all.

The atmosphere is often tense. On top of that, one of my two female colleagues has tried to use my unfortunate "universal confidant" trait. And I was forced to refuse providing advice on the matter. No, sorry, I won't provide advice on the matter of relationships. The Prime Directive applies here, I won't interfere in natural development of alien civilizations. That's just a goddamn liability, a fucking curse, people trying to turn me into a confidant.

These days, the shopping centre doesn't get too much traffic. And so, neither does the shop. Most of the people coming in are a bloody waste of time and energy. I only had a few proper customers, the sort that buys.
One of such instances was a couple ordering wedding rings. I despise attending to wedding ring customers, most of them are a waste of a shitload of time. This time, the couple was really sympathetic, appreciated all the help, and placed their order. Fuck yeah! That there is what I call clients.

The same day, I also sold a Rado. Unfortunately for me, it was a Rado True, the open-heart version. I even gave the buyer an additional discount just so that he'd have the bracelet adjusted somewhere else. But no, I had to do that. Fuck. If any of you has ever adjusted a Rado True bracelet, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, well, count your blessings. It's a vile, deplorable contraption, and its designer should face a firing squad, the fucking sadist. Because our wonderful company won't provide us with more pins for the Rado bracelet vise, I had to do that on the block, with a loose pin in a way-too-large holder, and a wooden hammer. Many a solid "kurwa!" could be heard in the back room of the shop. I felt like I'm seconds away from a heart attack, and if not for my usual dose of propranolol regulating the thump-thump, I'd probably fucking have one. A panic attack I'd fucking have had in there for sure.

The bracelet of the True happens to have a long sleeve in the centre link, and a pin going through it via both side links. Here's the fun part, if you get it wrong, you can shatter a link, and if you shatter it, you're paying for it.
Fuck Rado for that fucking piece of fucking shite.

Also, I had a moment of appreciation for my 1952 Longines. A couple in their sixties came to the shop, the guy wanted to buy his wife a watch. They leaned towards Atlantic, and as I've been reaching for one with my left hand, they've noticed the Longines, and couldn't stop complimenting it. Oh, and they bought the Atlantic.

There are some ridiculous moments that stick with one for a while. I mean, how often do you get to free a gold chain with your arse?
A colleague was attending to two ladies, who brought in a 14K gold curb weave chain to pick a pendant for it. Alas, the conversation was taking place by the counter, where two segments of furniture meet. Part of the chain fell into the gap, and the edges of the links locked themselves against the wooden surface. There was nothing to push it up with, so my colleague, panicking, ran to the food court to borrow a long knife from one of the greasy spoon chefs. As the client was holding one end of the chain in her hand, slightly pulling on it, in deep thought I've rested my arse against the side of the segment of furniture.
"WOW! It's getting unstuck! Sir, can you do that again?"
"What, rest my bum against the furniture?"
"Yes!"
"By all means, madame," says I.
I rested my arse against the furniture again, and again, until the chain came completely free of the trap. Minutes later, my colleague stormed in, carrying a long sushi chef's knife in her hand. Which I brought back to the sushi joint, so that she could have a rest after the stress that she's been through.
Sometimes, fancy solutions just won't work. Sometimes, all you have to do is rest your arse comfortably against whatever's at hand, and the solution will present itself.

Of course, we also had shitloads of cattle. I had an Albanian chav and his wifey trying to rush me, as they thought that by doing so, they'll speed up the service centre fixing her zirconia-set gold ring, because they can't wait, because they're getting deported. Fuck, their manners certainly qualify them for deportation. If it only was in my power, I'd have every horrible customer deported. To the North Pole, no less, so that they can fucking cool it down in the company of polar bears. Having to deal with Albanian chavs, fuck me. I wish I was Liam Neeson.

Then there was an obnoxious, obese hag, who stormed out of the shop with a rant full of "kurwa," because we didn't have what she imagined we'd have. I also had to deal with the Pandora Basilisk. The Pandora Basilisk is a lady in her thirties, obese and completely alien to the concept of using a deodorant. She orders ten things (by Pandora, a Danish fashion jewelry company) via the webshop to be delivered to our shop, and either she doesn't show up to get anything of that at all, or she does show up, buys the cheapest piece of shit, and we have to send the rest back. Of course, she happens to waste way too much of our time while choosing, and since she ordered it via the webshop, I have fuck-all out of that.

So far, no alternative job opportunities have presented themselves, and I really hope they will. The company's in chaos, as the owner died of corona. Given the fuckhead director that he put in charge some years ago, and given that he bought himself a brand new S-Class Merc while denying us our premium, he won't be missed. Not by my colleagues, and not by me. On top of that, I have enough personal problems at the moment. I mean, I'm basically on the verge of quitting on building a relationship, due to the lass having acted in a way that I can't bloody accept, and nobody should. I was absolutely furious, and quite unable to focus at work. If she does that again, that'll be it, she can go fuck herself, and as much as it'd break my heart to tell her that she has to go, if I have to, I will. Hope it won't come to that.

It's a bit like in that Johnny Cash song...

Well I've had all that I wanted
Of a lot of things I've had
And a lot more than I needed
Of some things that turned out bad


I certainly have more worries and heartaches than I could ever need.

Mr. Bloke out.
I always hope for the best. Experience, unfortunately, has taught me to expect the worst.
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Re: Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

Post by Falstaff » March 5th 2021, 5:01pm

Dammit, sir - I haven't read so much sturm und drang since "The Sorrows of Young Werther" - and I mean that in the very best literary sense. Your narrative gift is such that I feel as though I'm standing alongside you as you daily experience the ennui and angst of the carnival ride of life, love and retail purgatory. Damn all Albanians, Rado bracelet designers and feckless femmes to the nethermost pits of Perdition! Write on, sir - write on!
"When you have to shoot - shoot, don't talk!"

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Re: Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

Post by conjurer » March 5th 2021, 10:24pm

Falstaff wrote:
March 5th 2021, 5:01pm
Dammit, sir - I haven't read so much sturm und drang since "The Sorrows of Young Werther" - and I mean that in the very best literary sense. Your narrative gift is such that I feel as though I'm standing alongside you as you daily experience the ennui and angst of the carnival ride of life, love and retail purgatory. Damn all Albanians, Rado bracelet designers and feckless femmes to the nethermost pits of Perdition! Write on, sir - write on!
Ditto.
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Re: Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

Post by MKTheVintageBloke » April 12th 2021, 8:59am

Well, here's an addendum to this thread, after my brief hiatus.

Unfortunately, I had to part with the lass. The whole situation had me in no condition to post. I was far too volatile after that, and I did not want to risk snapping at anyone - I wouldn't want my personal issues to cause me to say something that could hurt someone.

Some asked what did the lass do. Well... She was a lying, manipulative and mean bitch, who sought nothing but to find someone to exploit emotionally through taking whatever she wants while giving nothing in return. A leech, a tick. A fucking parasite.

For five months, this lying twat has been using me as a free psychotherapist, problem bucket and a pet to take on walks. The agenda of that parasitic slut was to fish for somoene with high empathy by throwing the "poor, poor me, need some compassion and support" bait, create an illusion of pursuing a relationship to keep the host - me - emotionally involved, while never intending to give anything of herself. Fuck that fucking shit, I'm not a saint or a shrink. There are no saints, and a psychotherapist costs money.

Day by day, night by night, no matter if I was at work or trying to sleep, she'd start spilling more and more of her potty problems. An abusive and stalking ex-boyfriend, depression, sense of guilt over her first boyfriend's death. Fucking hell. I'll give her one thing, she had a writing style and demeanor that was some absolute mastery of flair for the dramatic, and yet very convincing. So much so that I had to increase my daily dose of propranolol to prevent panic attacks.

I got her to start attending a psychotherapist. Supported her all the way, giving as much of warmth and optimism as I could muster. Initially, she seemed grateful. Then...everything optimistic and supportive that I'd say, she started to bash, in a manner that got bolder and bolder over time.

There were casually hurtful incidents, like her spilling her problems for two hours, and then... "I'm waiting for my friend to call me, I'll feel better then." Whaaaaat?! Then why the fuck have you been bothering me? Fucking hell! Holy anal fucking shit!

Then there were the lies. At some point, not even a welcome or a goodbye hug. When called out for that, the lying bitch served me a load of bollocks about feeling the need for isolation. And then, a day after, she'd text me what a great time she had with her friends. Isolation, my arse! But every now and then she'd throw in innuendos and something kind to keep me interested. So there I was, being the perfect gentleman, hoping for some attention like a dog by the dining table.

The real shit came a month ago, when a casual conversation about cats and domestic horticulture led her to drop her guard. She spilled a dreamy text about how she and her "friend" made a deal to live together if they don't find any partners, and how there she could have as many plants and pets as she wants. That I did not stand. Apparently the whore was using all that I gave of myself to have some mental comfort in building a relationship with some fucker. Given her blatant lies about the "need for isolation," I wouldn't be surprised if she would have in fact been a cum dumpster for every mongrel in Warsaw. Given that she was bi, a part of the other half of Warsaw probably munched her minge on a regular basis.

That led to me properly calling her out. "Something makes me feel that you want more than I can give you," the whore wrote. So I wrote her what I feel, and didn't spare the vocabulary. I told the cunt to get the fuck out of my life, permanently. What the fuck was she thinking, to go on a dating app to find someone to fix her psyche and her life for free? Fuck off, you lying, parasitic twat, and scuttle at warp 9, how's that for isolation...
"I hope we could talk and that I could have a chance to explain myself, I'm so sorry," she wrote. Whaaaaat?! Oh my, oh my, I just twisted out the fucking tick, and now the tick asks me if I could let it bite into me once again! No fucking way. I'm off-limits to this pathetic breed of second-rate human beings.

I should have listened to my friends and my cousin, and boot the slut out of my sight and heart way earlier. When my cousin's wife heard that I dumped the bitch, she just said to my cousin, "He should have done so long ago, finally he got rid of that whore."

I am very grateful to all my friends who supported me. Even to Mr. Furball. The day I told the lying cum dumpster to get the fuck out of my life, Furball saw me on my bed, just gazing into the ceiling. He gave out two crying meows, hopped on the bed, and cuddled by my side, resting his head on my hip and purring as loudly as he could, as if in an effort to give me as much of his feline, positive energy as he could.

Me and my cousin held a small celebration to cheer me up. We had steaks "Beef Joy After Dumping a Parasitic Whore," and an entire bottle of Dewar's Caribbean, a really decent blended Scotch matured in rum casks. Go figure, the drinking that night didn't end on that bottle, we moved on to The Famous Grouse Peated Blend and Jack Daniel's Tennessee Rye.

I have pieced myself together, and I'm back to looking for a decent lass. Well...shit happens, no point in letting that hold me back.

Some musical summary of it all...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJx7Et20OI0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rp4tGqRhWA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2b0wICesoZk
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_A1s2BYRHU
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-Sj75QusZo

Anyway...it's good to be back.
I always hope for the best. Experience, unfortunately, has taught me to expect the worst.
Elim Garak, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

No good deed ever goes unpunished.
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Re: Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

Post by MKTheVintageBloke » April 12th 2021, 11:10am

That made my day, Cod! Sums her up perfectly, save perhaps the ”fat” part.

Today she has ”unfriended” me on Facesbooks, after this charming post of mine...
Image
I always hope for the best. Experience, unfortunately, has taught me to expect the worst.
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Re: Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

Post by jason_recliner » April 12th 2021, 6:43pm

Damn. That's a rough ride. I hope you're feeling a bit better now.

This track helps me through break-ups:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrQAdM581Pk

Hell, I almost look forward to breaking up just so that I can crank it up. Hope it helps you too.
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Re: Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

Post by Pubbie » April 13th 2021, 4:35am

I missed the initial rant Mike and it was golden as usual, but sorry to hear of the nutter woes. Tough as it is, it's a much better decision you've made. Sometimes this realisation takes a year, sometimes a day :). But better it is.

Just make sure you change your locks mind.

As you appear to be working for a slum lord, for extra cash see if you can start selling Rolex. In Hong Kong, America and London, buyers desperate for the crown willingly hand over fistfuls of notes, just for a shot at the title. Sell just a handful of Oysters to some drooling Instagram subscribers and you're well on your way to a new Merc as well!
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Re: Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

Post by jason_recliner » April 13th 2021, 4:39pm

Tinder can be dicey - seems to be an abnormally high percentage of unstable / immoral women. It ended quite badly with the last girl I dated before my current girlfriend. Her housemate turned out to be her boyfriend or fiance (still not clear), she gave him my address, and I had to bash him and his van in my driveway at 11pm on a Monday night. My hands were all smashed up and I had to go to work the next day.
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Re: Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

Post by conjurer » April 13th 2021, 6:43pm

jason_recliner wrote:
April 13th 2021, 4:39pm
Tinder can be dicey - seems to be an abnormally high percentage of unstable / immoral women. It ended quite badly with the last girl I dated before my current girlfriend. Her housemate turned out to be her boyfriend or fiance (still not clear), she gave him my address, and I had to bash him and his van in my driveway at 11pm on a Monday night. My hands were all smashed up and I had to go to work the next day.
Dang! You gave the asshole a trimming, and went to work the next day?? Colour me impressed!
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Re: Musings of a Salesman: Take Sixteen

Post by jason_recliner » April 13th 2021, 7:38pm

conjurer wrote:
April 13th 2021, 6:43pm
jason_recliner wrote:
April 13th 2021, 4:39pm
Tinder can be dicey - seems to be an abnormally high percentage of unstable / immoral women. It ended quite badly with the last girl I dated before my current girlfriend. Her housemate turned out to be her boyfriend or fiance (still not clear), she gave him my address, and I had to bash him and his van in my driveway at 11pm on a Monday night. My hands were all smashed up and I had to go to work the next day.
Dang! You gave the asshole a trimming, and went to work the next day?? Colour me impressed!
Yeah we were so busy back then.
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