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MENSA day at The Gap
Written on 2001-08-27, at 1:27 a.m.
dizboy's disturbing daily diet...

1 Sampler Platter from Ruby Tuesdays

1 Coke

1 Bag Popcorn

3 Bud Lights

4 Cigarettes (So. Weak.)

I'm healthy.

"Are these clothes for prostitutes?" asks the middle aged asian woman.

And so begins my day at work.

"I'm sorry?" I reply, trying to buy some time, whereas I may work out in my head whether she asks because:

A) It's "Back-to-School" time for local whores.

B) She dislikes the look of our Fall line.

C) She believes that "GAP" stands for something anatomical.

Well, it turned out to be more of choice "B". I guess she wanted to vent her feelings about how we seemed to be the one-stop shop for all your streetwalking couture.

Did I mention she spoke very broken English?

That was fun.


"Need your windows cleaned?" the man suddenly behind me with a squeegee asks.

It took me a moment to orient myself to the fact that I was standing in a Gap, in Florida, and not sitting in my 1974 "El Camino" at a traffic light somewhere in Brooklyn.

"I'm sorry?" I relpy, feeling that this is going to be one of those days I'd be saying that a lot.

"Windows washed man?" he asks, again.

"Oh, are you from the Mall office?"

"Naw, just walking around washing windows."

"Just on your own? What for?"

I could tell I was going to be the loser this conversation.

"For money."

And I was right.

You can't really challenge that logic, now can you?


"I need to make an exchange." Says the man handing me a Gap shopping bag.

"Ok, let's see what we have here." I cheerfully reply.

As I pull out a pair of jeans that look like they had seen action in 'Nam.

"These have been washed and worn."

I'm very good at stating the obvious.

"Yeah, they have."

"Um...how long have you had these?" I say.

"Well, about 2 years now, they're getting worn out, I wanted to exchange them for a new pair."

"I'm sorry?" I replied, knowing I was in the clammy choke-hold of "one of those days".

"Yeah, my cousin in Alabama said that you can return any jeans to Gap for a new pair".

"Yes, well, in Alabama, "GAP" stands for "Guns An' Phishin'", you halfwit."

Was what I wanted to say.


"Ok, what size did you want that in?" I say into my headset.


I then realized I was trying to talk to the woman who was holding on the phone, via my in-store radio.



"Thank you for calling The Gap at Fashion Square, your fashion denim authority, this is John, how can I help you?"

"Hi, this is Heather from store 1041, can you do a check for me."

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Ok, it's the slit front skirt, in a size 6. It's in womens."


Because I thought it was one of our mens skirts.


"If you could just put the city, and your zip code on that for me sir."

"My what?"

"Your zip code."

"What's a 'zip code'"

"Um, this." (I show him with one of our store business cards.)

"Oh, the POST code. Never heard it called zip."

No, he was NOT foreign.

Next. (and last)


On the front door which I had just closed and locked.

"Are you all closed?"


It's just a game I like to play.

You have to answer a riddle to get in.

I have school in about 8 hours, and I've already skipped once this semester.

And by semester, of course I mean the three days school has been in session so far.

Oh my god, I've missed 33.3333333% of the school year so far...

I got a suprise this weekend. An Adam (adambesme) on my couch. Which isn't as bad as ants in your pants, but there's still a lot of thrashing around.

Ok, that bordered on sexual innuendo.

Thrashing around insofar as me signing my order to the Wendy's employee.

So now I'm about to go to bed, and prepare to have to park 15 miles from my classroom in the morning.

But hey, school's worth it, right?


Be well...


Your Host and Emcee...dizboy.

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