Skid marks

So there I am, walking back in to work with a nice girl who'd just bought me lunch, when this lady I work with, I'll call her 'P' for now, comes toward us with this weird look on her face. I figure she's about to give me some kind of friendly grief about the 'lunch date'- in some respect I wish she had. As it turns out, while sorting through the women's panty bins located in the center aisle between accessories and intimates, 'P' found a little, white polka-dot thong that'd apparently been tried on, then placed back into the bin in a less than new condition. In fact, they looked more like used toilet tissue than underwear. It was also the end of her shift; she was going home. I had two hours left. So for the remander of the day, with latex gloved hands, I sorted through all shapes and sorts of women's undergarment fashion, inspecting each piece for evidence of prior use. Two things came to mind whilst performing my duty: 1) Retail sucks and I reallly, really need to finish my degree if I ever want to get out of it. 2) "Sugar and Spice" my ass! Girls are made of the same disgusting crap as the rest of us, and they know it.

I only found one more soiled pair of panties before the day was through. Hurray.