Juice Cleanse: The Farce and its Victims.

As mentioned, I am a ‘Natural Foods Connoisseur’. My current employment requires this so they have their own certifying program. That means I get to sit through lectures about the odds and ends of homeopathy, poopy soy products, and why it’s always important for a chicken to be happy and cage-free before you slaughter it. (You also shouldn’t put eggs in cages because apparently cage-free eggs are MUCH better for you, me, and our pal earth.)

Phase 1: On the sales floor, it’s my job to educate customers and eventually get them to purchase some unnecessary  wellness product or some overpriced free-range rib eye steaks. Lately, my education efforts have gone towards these rather rotund women on some weird ‘juice’ cleanse where the juice is actually lemon water, honey and cayenne pepper. They usually use the “I’m just doing this to be healthier.” Line, when I think it may just translate to “I am a fat and frequently try fad diets.”

Phase 2: The lemon-honey-cayenne-water will do nothing except MAYBE cleanse a few organs. Otherwise, if you aren’t eating anything with it, you become irritable and unpleasant and no one wants to be your friend. My next step is to convince the customer to buy an actual fresh juice which is made by shoving vegetables through this huge scary loud juicer that is near impossible to clean. (Beats… apples… carrots…lemons… cucumber…etc.)

Phase 3: Although the fresh juiced juice that I made for this poor gullible woman is now packed with 20 times more nutrients than her wannabe-tea concoction, she is still losing out on some valuable calorie burning. She could have just eaten the 2 pounds of produce I put through the juicer and had almost two meals worth. And because they would have been whole vegetables and fruits, her body would have burned more calories eating/digesting them than it just did slurping the 7$ juice down. (If there are red beats in the juice, their poop will be pink.)

Because I do not know the names of the countless women and men who do this everyday (Spend 7$ on a puny cup of juice…) I must hope they stumble upon this post and never fall for the fresh juice farce ever again.

Creepers: Episode 1. An Introduction to my Creep-fest.

Before I begin I should make one thing clear: I HATE when people visit me while I am at work. I am usually in situations where I am being paid to a shit load of mundane tasks and chatting about them as a feeble attempt at small talk is not one of them. If you happen to see me, a simple 'Hello!' will suffice.

My jobs always include some sort of customer service, AKA, dealing with people. I use my 'work voice' (my stranger voice) which is friendly and misleading, because my real voice is too mumbly jumbly for anyone to understand.

This 'voice' that I must resort to using misleads old creepy men into thinking I am totally interested in every last dull creepy thing they have to say to me, causing them to linger and in turn causing me to laugh uncomfortably which IN TURN causes them to call up my place of employment posing as my dead grandpa wondering what my address is so they can 'send me gifts.' The biggest thing that gets me deep creeped is probably my uncomfortable laugh, which leads me to make this point:

Men, boys, dudes, and creeps alike: If a woman is laughing during a conversation with you, there is only about a 20% chance that it is a SINCERE laugh. The other 80% of laughs are either out of total and utter discomfort ("Does he not realize that I am here, in the park, reading alone because I WANT TO BE FUCKING LEFT ALONE?) or out of politeness ("I am thankful that I am talking to this nice young man in the sweater vest as opposed to the herd of leering bros who think its totally okay to shave off all of their body hair and go 'woooo!' every 30 seconds.)

Of course there's always my "I love you mr. boyfriend but I think you said a joke and I am not paying any attention to you because I am playing Peggle so I will let out a chuckle. What's that? Your mom lied to you about having diabetes? Oh. Never mind."

Anyway, even without my awkward laugh, my stupid 'work' voice, and my boyfriend hovering over me, I still manage to get creeped on. These are my stories.