Assistant 2nd Unit Fluffer For Walt Disney

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I'm a heavy girl with heavy problems.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Bee Hind.

Today I went to the Target Pharmacy and gave them my name.  I said my first name.  Then I said my last name.  I gave each name the proper length, lending each syllable its credence.  And they still didn't understand me.
I think this is a cry for war.
No one understands my name.  And I don't have a crazy name. It's actually a biblical name. Its basic and it's biblical.
I am a low talker. I get that.  I do tend to mumble.  But when I have to pick up my shame pills, I want the process to be as expedient as possible.  That means giving my name as clearly and as quick as possible. And everytime I get it, the attendant has to ask for it again or they repeat back something completely different:
"pete Sampras?"
"Orah Boran?"
"AlQueda?"
This is something I prepare myself for.  I actually tell myself to enunciate. To speak loudly and give a slight pause between my first and last name.  And I make eye contact. That's supposed to help.
And I still get "Pete Sampras?".
Grrr.

1 comment:

David Oppegaard said...

When people try to give me their name to pick up a test, I don't even listen. I just say, "ID please" and read that shit off their card.

These pharmacy drones are probably so taken with your unusual beauty they're just not listening the first time you say your name.

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