The Idiot at the Pet store

I went to the pet store yesterday to buy some toys for my dog, who doesn’t play with any toys. I know that makes no sense. I feel like if I buy her enough toys, eventually, she’ll play with one or like me or whatever. That’s a moot point. Some of the weirdest fuckers I have ever met work in pet stores. Everyone is an expert it seems like. They’re so smart they actually talk to the animals, like they are going to get an answer. I do that to my dog in the privacy of my own home, like a normal wack job. But I was a wack job long before I got a dog. I was talking to myself half the time, now at least I talk at something.

I go to this one specific pet store, mostly because it’s the closest to my house but also because it seems pretty cheap I guess. When I walk in, the two women who work there always come over to me, probably cause I’m so fucking cute. Although, they only call Effie cute, not me. These two idiots never actually talk to me though. They talk to my dog and ask her questions that I obviously need to answer. She said today, “what are you looking for today?” I answer her and tell her what I need. She then asks the dog, “well what kind do you like?” Again I have to answer, “she likes the peanut butter bones.” Then she asks the dog, “when did your daddy adopt you?” Now, I’m starting to feel annoyed that this idiot can’t even look at me and have a conversation, but yet I answer again, “1 month ago.”
These two shmucks start simultaneously asking the dog questions. I decide, you know what, I’m not going to answer anymore. Let’s see what they do then. The next question she asks the dog is, “what does your daddy help you do to not be so shy.” I didn’t answer. Then she says, “Do you face away from your daddy when you make poops?” What the fuck lady. My dog doesn’t want to discuss her bowel movements. Finally, she asks the dog if she wants to come in for a treat tasting.

I’ve had enough of this shit. I get that you want to talk to your dog. I do it and it’s fucking weird enough. Lady, get off the floor of this disgusting warehouse and wake the fuck up. My dog doesn’t like you. She doesn’t like anyone. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. You’re not the damn animal whisperer, so just tell me where the damn rawhides are so I can get out of this place.

I picked out a couple toys and when I go to pay she tells the dog, “if you don’t end up playing with these toys your daddy can return them.” Naturally, I respond, “That’s disgusting, so this toy could’ve been in your house?” I don’t think she loved that comment, because she stopped talking to the dog at this point and turned towards me. It seemed somewhat difficult for her to have a conversation with a person. She said, “well, we clean them.” With as much sarcasm as I could gather from deep down I responded with “righttt…”

She didn’t say another word except the total. I smiled at her and said, “thanks so much!” And now I have to find a new pet store. Sorry Effie but I can’t imagine going back in to the passive interrogation room. 

 

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