There was a moth crawling in my sleeve…

So I was sitting here getting ready to formulate another smashing blog post, and kept feeling that creepy crawly feeling on my left arm. I thought I was delusional, as I get the creepy crawly feeling at least once a day for whatever reason, but upon further investigation, I discovered a moth had somehow gotten in there. Silly little moth.

πŸ™‚

Today I helped my favourite whorebag Victtoria ‘run’ the op shop her mum, ‘Queen Dyke’, works at while she nipped out for a while. I love op shops. I love the eclectic bunch of crap, discarded clothing, and former loved items. I love rifling through all of this stuff to find my newest treasure. I love that musty op shop smell. Possibly the best part of op shops though? The clientele.

The op shop in question is in the lovely suburb of Flemington (*insert mild sarcasm here*). As a result, it attracts a wide variety of Asian, African, slightly left/right/up/down of the centre people, and a lot of people who frequent op shops because their socio-economic status prevents their affordability from being sufficient to buy new clothing/crockery/books etc. You get your lovely grandmas pinching pennies, your hipsters buying out ALL the cool clothes in one fell swoop, and your usual riff raff and down-and-outers trying to scam you down to the last cent. Which is annoying considering this op shop is considerably cheaper than the big warehouse varieties like Savers.

My favourite people are the ones who tell you their life story. All about their mother/father/sister/brother/daughter/son/friend/dog/elephant/giraffe. Whether or not you care. You get it anyway. I just love getting that micro slice of another persons life. It is what I loved about working in retail for four years. I hated the paperwork and the hoopla that came with the job, but I loved chatting to my regulars.

The next best part of spending a day working in an op shop? When customers are scarce, you can scour the racks for finds. I got a (I suspect) never/rarely worn black dress with white polka dots that fits like it was custom-made, and an adorable little tan leather purse (made in italy) that is in terrible condition but that I am going to inject a bit of love into to try to spruce it up a bit. If it doesn’t work, well who cares, it is cute as anyway, perfect for a night out!

You never know what you might find at the op shop... or how stupid alcohol will make you act and look!

I will definitely be heading back to the op shop for some more days of fun.

And to buy clothes. Lots and lots of clothes.

πŸ™‚ xx

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2 responses

  1. You are hilarious and I wish to meet this person whom claims to have a giraffe! Also I hate retail it’s quite interesting that you have found something to enjoy in it. At my work there are big giggantum buzzing squealing freezers sticking out 4 meters which prevents me from having a decent convo with my regulars as I can only lip read so much and scream at the top of my lungs for so long… There is this one man who buys an ice cream everyday for as long as I have been working there, a sweet old business man and I go “oooh your in an English Toffee mood today are you?!” or “White chocolate and raspberry, thats unusual for you!” I have different phrases depending on what icecream he buys that day. Story of my life.

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