After the disaster at the Rib Shack I decided to give retail a try. I should have known it wouldn't work. After all, I'm not really the best people person.
Here's what happened: I went to work at a large chain retail story. I will not tell you the name of this chain other than the fact that it starts with a "W" and ends with a "-Mart." Draw your own conclusions.
I immediately sensed that something was wrong. The poor workers at this store seemed to be ill-treated -- not unlike the horrible gnomes who used to work for the Order of St. Dumas. Demoralized and broken, my poor co-workers served a harsh master that cared not for their needs or joys.
Only one thing could be done: revolution! So as with the fall of St. Dumas, I used my charismatic skills to rally my fellow workers into seizing the store's well-stocked armory. With those resources, we would change the world for the better.
It didn't exactly go well.
You see, the only fellow workers who actually joined me were Steve (from electronics) and Carl (who worked the paint mixer). Our three man revolution was quickly crushed and we were all sacked by management. We agreed to go our seperate ways: Steve to Best Buy and Carl to Lowe's. Myself? I took the path St. Dumas has always laid out for me: fire.
Leaving behind the blazing inferno that had been the "W-Mart," I moved onto my next attempt at honest, non-vigilante-related employment.
