Cross-dresser's Paradise.

Dear Stinky Young Man:

I'm sorry I didn't ask you if you had found everything you were looking for, but I was busy swallowing the vomit that had spurted, unbidden, into my mouth when I smelled you.

I notice you have a basket full of axe deodarant, bodywash, cologne, and more. If you are already using these on a daily basis, I suggest you stop. They are not helping. If you don't already use them, may I recommend that a plain shower with soap and perhaps shaving and brushing your teeth would improve your odour immeasurable. Rubbing shower gel into your clothes will not solve your problem.

Irregardless, given your smell and your gap-toothed smile, I hope that you don't believe the Axe ads. The girls will not be falling all over you. They'll just be falling down when they get a whiff of you.



Dear Mild Mannered Oldster:

Word of advice, man: when buying six pairs of fancy silk and lace bikini briefs and two pairs of fishnet thigh-highs, it would really help if you didn't mumble and you did look your cashier in the eye. Otherwise, well, she's left to believe that they definitely are for you. Throw a box of tampons or at least some chocolate in your basket. If not, your cashier has no choice but to size you up, determine that the underwear and hose are just your size and talk about you in the staffroom.

Dude, I'm cool with your little fetish but you gotta either let your freak flag fly or cover better, cause this ain't working for you.


Dear 12 Year Old Girls Everywhere:

You are too young to wear makeup and heels. DO YOU HEAR ME?! Go home and play with your Barbie dolls. I'm going to tell you what my great-aunt told me: that stuff will rot your face so you'll look like a worn out street-walker at 30.

Sound advice from my lovely aunt. She had a way with words. Please, put the makeup back. The toy section is at the back of the store.

Dear Mothers Everywhere:

Buying 2 bottles of soda, a large bag of chips, a multi-pack of chocolate bars, and 15 lunchables is not negated by your purchase of one 2L of milk and your two boxes of chocolate chip granola bars. I see your children have opened the immense candy packs you've given them in the store. Please let me scan them and let them enjoy them now - after all, they're going to be dead soon with the way you're feeding them.

Dear Customer Service Manager:

I do have a life. And my own shopping to do. Don't make me work 20 minutes past my schedule and then glare at me when I run off to get my shopping done before the store closes. And don't make me feel bad for asking for my employee discount even if it is only $4.00 on this purchase.- you know how much I get paid - that $4 adds up.



Most Embarassing Moment:

Mother, Father and 11 year old son bring their items to the cash. I try to locate tag on a pair of skinny dark jeans with acid splashes and fashion rips. Mother says "oh know, did the tag come off." I page fashion department. They don't answer. I send CSM to ladies department to find another pair to scan. She doesn't find them. I ask mother, "were there any others there." "Not in his size," she answers. I look at the drab 11 year old boy. I look at his roly-poly stomach (probably fueled by the pop, chips, and snack cakes they're buying). I try to picture him squeezing into these jeans. I try to picture him wearing these obviously female jeans. I can't.

"Oh. Are they from our costume department I ask"

Apparently they were not. They were boys department.

Hey kid, there's an old guy I'd like to introduce you to. He could be a real mentor to you.