I was in the local bookstore, which is pretty popular in the area, scouring the philosophy section for stuff I could probably download for free. Then, some broad comes up asking if I can help her find a book. Some self help author I've never heard of and I tell her as much. Then I point out that the aisles are fucking labeled. Then she starts wasting my time, blathering about how the book is for someone else. And it's like yeah, whatever, you don't have to lie about it. Self help books are about as popular as pop fiction titles. But jesus bitch, I'm not an employee. If you're too dumb to use the labels on the aisles at least pester someone who gets paid for those sort of asinine femcunt queries. Or better yet, pester your jock boyfriend, who probably didn't want to be dragged along to a store for nerds, collectors, and otaku.
Fuck. She was awkward too.
Fuck. She was awkward too.
