Monday, May 31, 2010

First sighting

The first time I saw her was a lazy Thursday afternoon. The place: Beachwood Mall. The time: 3:59 pm. Because you know, she could only ever show up for work the exact minute she was supposed to clock in. I was behind the till with M, and she was giving me some soap cutting tips. We hadn't had a customer in a good 30, or 35 minutes.

In. Came. KT.

I realize most of you have no idea what this means, but give it a few paragraphs, you will. You know that one co-worker we all have? He/she starts out cool, but eventually wears us down with over-the-top stories of wealth, sexual conquests, and supposedly being BFFs with Paris Hilton? Really, hun? In Ohio? No babe. Try again.

Anyway, she came in and we were introduced. It was a slow day, so we hung out behind the till, played around on the computer and got to know each other. She was another coworker who'd been away all summer in California, vacationing. I was still new and hadn't heard a lick about her.
Me: "So, you're really from Cali?"
KT: "Yeah, totally. It's great out there."
Me: "So, what, are you back for school?"
KT: "Classes start up in a few days. I'm in med school. I'm gonna miss Paris, though."
Me: "The city? When were you there?"
KT- exasperated: "Why does everyone always say that? No, silly, Hilton."
Should have been my first clue. I just moved right along, like a hungry bulldozer.
Me: "Oh awesome! What medical school are you at?"
At this point it's important for me to admit that the elitist in me was glad to be working with another college graduate. There were a few of us at our store, but each one assuaged my fears that I was quickly sinking into failure-dom because I had no idea what I wanted to do, and couldn't seem to get a "real" job anyway.
KT: "I'm at Case Western Reserve."
Me: "That's a great med- school. Congrats. Good luck."
The rest of our time together went pretty much that way. She talked about how her parents were split and the tragedy of it all: She was all alone in her father's mansion in Euclid during the school year, then all alone in her mother's mansion in Santa Monica all summer long. Tear. Me: "But what about Paris? Hilton, that is."
KT: "Oh yeah, I'll miss her and all, but what's more important than education? Besides, she can always visit me."
Uhhhhhhhhhh, yeah. Ok.
After two hours of slow, slow, soap-selling, M asked KT to go home, for the sake of labor costs. M: "You know, its just that Dennis is going to be a keyholder, and I'm training him to close tonight."
KT: "Oh, sure, I'd love to go home. Nothing much happening here anyway. I remember when they asked me to be a keyholder, but I just didn't want that responsibility."
Then she slapped her fake Gucci bag on the till and searched all up and through it for her car keys.
M: "Which car did you drive today? The Mercedes or the Land Rover?"
KT: "The Mercedes. I just love a big car, don't you? It screams affluence!"
OK crazy.
As soon as she left M got the most maniacal look on her face. This is where I learned a major life lesson, only the schooling hadn't yet started. Heed warnings people! Heed them! M warned me about KT, told me she was a pathological liar and she was right. Now here's my warning! Anyone who sells soap in a store that is made up of all women and one gay man, is probably crazy. Bat-shit. Oh, we play a good game, giving hand massages, exfoliating, explaining why a lavender face scrub can save your life, filling your nostrils with delicious scents, but when the doors close at night, and we start counting down the tills, more often than not, we want to rip each other's throats out. It could be a scene from True Blood! All the women are fighting and the resident gay is running around between them like a chicken with his head cut off, trying to appease them all so he can do to your wallet what the vamps do to their prey. On show-time that is.
M started telling me how KT was an extreme pathological liar, and I shouldn't listen to a word she said because she was talking out of her ass. That's an exact quote. Of course, little ole newly graduated me thought, "Oh, she seems like a nice girl." I figured they'd had some fight and M had hard feelings.
The only way I could have been more wrong was if I'd talked about how Glen Beck, Karl Rove, and I are all shopping buddies.
I call my stories with her "The KT Chronicles: A serialized account of the most bogus lies known to man." Because its just too golden to confine to one post!


  1. hahaha amazing. I can't wait to read more of KT's chronicles! So great, Dennis. Keep it up!
    <3 Anna

  2. Ah, we have liars in every workplace... Ha ha... Ready for the next installment.