Let's face it: if menswear is on a separate floor to women's wear, which it usually is, you've really pulled the short straw when it comes to mid-week shifts. Men's wear is constantly dead, with the odd retired couple taking a look around on a Wednesday afternoon. Come the weekend, you're desperate for company, and some hot male customers to ogle over. Not in a weird way; but you were of the opinion that working on men's wear was going to consist of you leaning seductively over the tills in your slinky black shirt while being constantly hit on by beautiful men wearing sharp suits and floral ties. No such luck; you've actually been assigned a life on loneliness. Until the sales, that is.
I love Stephen King and music festivals; I eat my toast upside down; I daydream about getting married probably a bit too much; and I wish every day for a pet sausage dog puppy (who never materialises – sob).
