Customer Service Is Job 1

How may I help you?

Unlike Hot Pants, who weilds the authority and gravitas to crack a mighty NYC Editrix whip over her worshipful underlings, I, Wiggles, am but a humble Shop Girl, ever ready for each customer with a smile and sincere compliment.

“My, that’s a lovely necklace.”

“What a charming handbag.”

“That five inch hair growing out of your chin mole is divine!”

I've seen enough to know I've seen too much.

Truly, it took every ounce of self control to keep my fingers from yanking a freakishly long, limp strand off one customer’s face. Apparently, mole hair(s) constitute a beauty statement among Filipinas. Believe me, I’ve ample anecdotal evidence to back up this thesis.

Who am I to judge? After all, even if they don’t know which thumb is their right for fingerprinting, they’re the ones hauling in stashes of gold jewelry and coins for wads of cash, not I.

Indeed, obliging Shop Girl, thy name is Wiggles.

Oh, the humanity.

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