take it out on me

"i don't CARE what you think, buddy!" tom's voice reverberates from the back of the shop, smashing into the front where i'm serving a customer. "we're human beings, and sometimes we screw up. the people here are more important that you, so i suggest you GET OUT OF MY SHOP!"

i slip into the cooler, feeling slightly ashamed, partly exhilarated and totally giddy all at once. the reason for the shouting match in the back? ha ha ha...that would be me.

once again, the fish shop has become the subject of my imagined audience here, but things are once again getting to be total shite. all the orders are fucked up, no one works together, the customers yell at me and as far as i'm concerned, everything's gone down the pan. normally, i couldn't be arsed to care, but sadly human nature caught up with me when all the afore mentioned shite reached the point where i had an old american telling me i was a "stupid girl."

"sure buddy..." pipes up the inner vox, silent for these many days. "stupid am i eh? that's why i'm where i am right now in life- going to school, paying for a lot of it myself, surrounded most of the time by excellent people- i'm here because i'm a stupid cow right?"

he seemed to think so.

so after he throws his fit, telling me he'll be back to pick up his [damned] fish when he's ready, i also childishly and in a very juvenile way- throw a fit of my own.

namely: i cry.

when mr. bode comes back in, he recieves the tounge lashing recounted above by tom, and i am left feeling slightly guilty.

in a sick and twisted gleeful sort of way.