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Jun. 18th, 2008 07:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolSo, yesterday was better. I had a vague suspicion it might be, to be honest. Work was actually really good fun - the girl I worked with was really nice, and we just had a laugh. I even proved I know what the hell I'm doing now; I checked a delivery, phoned customers to lt them know special orders were in, went to the bank, bought loo roll for the staff loo. I also helplessly watched what I suspect was a shoplifting, but I can't prove anything and being by myself on the shop floor to deal with it; well, it's not my stock and I don't care what's taken.
ALSO! MY CUSTOMER CARE LET ME SHOW YOU IT. Fat Face, for those not in the knowledge, is a bit like Billabong or Quiksilver; it's the 'active lifestyle brand'. The clothes are... well, not bank-breaking, but out of my normal reach. It's all very nice, but designed for, you know, surfing. Or pretending you surf, anyway. Someone came in and was asking about our dresses, and I offered to go downstairs and bring up a selection; she then asked me if they were suitable for Ascot. Now what would I know about Ascot races? Well, ACTUALLY RATHER A LOT, as I had spent an hour sorting a delivery listening to the radio the day before, were they'd actually talked about the dress code at Ascot. I gave her a run-down and sent her off into St Andrews with a list of more suitable shops. Go me! (I did also belatedly tell her that we sold accessories that might be more appropriate.)
So, that evening, I ended up going out for a drink with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stupidore and Ceri. I say 'drink', as what I mean is several shared pitchers and then a few long drinks. And then meeting up with a vague mutual acquaintance, who offered us a lift home, and then we fed him beer in return for changing our lightbulbs. (We are all collectively too short, even when standing on a chair, to do it ourselves. Stop laughing.) By 4am, I was watching the sun rise.
I am now bloody shattered, needless to say. I've still managed to be awake, and to go and get another cheapy bag of fruit and veg from the greengrocers - salad potatoes this week, yes! - and clean the house a bit. After this I'm going to go and iron my work clothes, and then I'm probably going to sleep.
Busy = good.
ALSO! MY CUSTOMER CARE LET ME SHOW YOU IT. Fat Face, for those not in the knowledge, is a bit like Billabong or Quiksilver; it's the 'active lifestyle brand'. The clothes are... well, not bank-breaking, but out of my normal reach. It's all very nice, but designed for, you know, surfing. Or pretending you surf, anyway. Someone came in and was asking about our dresses, and I offered to go downstairs and bring up a selection; she then asked me if they were suitable for Ascot. Now what would I know about Ascot races? Well, ACTUALLY RATHER A LOT, as I had spent an hour sorting a delivery listening to the radio the day before, were they'd actually talked about the dress code at Ascot. I gave her a run-down and sent her off into St Andrews with a list of more suitable shops. Go me! (I did also belatedly tell her that we sold accessories that might be more appropriate.)
So, that evening, I ended up going out for a drink with
stupidore and Ceri. I say 'drink', as what I mean is several shared pitchers and then a few long drinks. And then meeting up with a vague mutual acquaintance, who offered us a lift home, and then we fed him beer in return for changing our lightbulbs. (We are all collectively too short, even when standing on a chair, to do it ourselves. Stop laughing.) By 4am, I was watching the sun rise.I am now bloody shattered, needless to say. I've still managed to be awake, and to go and get another cheapy bag of fruit and veg from the greengrocers - salad potatoes this week, yes! - and clean the house a bit. After this I'm going to go and iron my work clothes, and then I'm probably going to sleep.
Busy = good.
