If anyone told me 4 years ago that I would graduate from university and find myself working at a thrift store 30 hours a week, I would politely tell them that I was more ambitious than that and disregard the thought.
But oh, here I am.
Unfortunately or not, this blog is not about me. It is about the confusing retail/not-for-profit limbo working at a thrift store as part of a non-profit organization consists of. It is about the crackheads, the tweakers, the junkies, the scam artists, and the shoplifting trannies (have I mentioned the "I'm probably about to offend you" disclaimer?) that frequent my work. It is also about the informative leather daddies, the sassy queens, and the I-have-to-have-a-costume-for-a-theme-party-in-an-hour customers I see every day.
It is, in short, the entirety of why my job is way more entertaining than yours.
Or as I said to a customer who called me a bitch the other day: "That isn't the first or last time I'll be called that here."
