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>be me at first job at retail
>work at retail electronic store in Manhattan Beach area
>work in expensive merch cage where I witness the horror my comrades go through behind the registers
>occasionally get on the floor (and yes, walk the dinosaur, if that translates to butting heads with my super)
>organizing MOBO aisle
>felt an immense energy upon me as if it was a gravitational pull
>turn around and was slapped with the stench of body odor and last night's what I assume Mac'an'Cheese
>it was a land whale, pale as vanilla yogurt, with the occasional cottage cheese curdled face and strawberry bit zits
>breathing heavily and felt like he was gonna speak in wales and groans
"..."
"..."
"ecxcuthe me sir..."
>"uh, yeah. May I help ya sir?" "do you know how to build?" [cynically]
>"Um, computers, right?"
>He agrees and and proceeds to ask my opinions on builds then tries to one up me and corrects me on my "mistakes"
>keep in mind, I'm recently new to PC building, but absorbed enough know-how of what and what not to do
>10 mins pass and he is still lecturing me on on the basics of PC building and which games he thinks are superior
>occasionally gets off track and talks about Japanese media and American
>This man-child is literally the poster child of autism awareness
>Im talking bout the cargo pants, shitty worn and torn jacket over Chinese cartoon shirt, and yes... he had "that" headgear
>this fucker tries to one-up me in EVERYTHING
>i'm really resisting the urge to grab one of the MOBOs and shoving it up his ass and through his throat
>Seller steps in "Yo man, I'm salesman Bob. Can I help you?"
>He was a bro, and saw me in pain. Good thing I summoned him, cause this fucker was gonna pay cold hard allowance money on his overkill shit comp, and Bob gets paid on commission
Will continue...