View Full Version : Fur Ballz Pet Stop ( Some Language )

December 12th, 2010, 02:02 AM
I'm not really looking for a formal critique. Just pointers, and most importantly, whether or not you enjoyed it.


I hate my job, much like the better half of corporate America. The thing is; its just my first week here. I can only imagine what the rest of my voyage working at Fur-Ballz Pet Stop is going to be like. I dont understand why three-fourths of the population of pet-lovers choose to be complete douche bags to the first person they see at their local pet supply store. Luckily for yours truly, I just happen to be the first person they bump into.

I myself, along with only two of the six employees that work here, actually attempt to do something. Whether this consists of helping old ladies bring their goods to their car, or ring up something at the counter, I hop on it like flies on shit. To further the fun at Fur Ballz, all the customers happen to complain about everything, their complaints include; their heavy bags, the looks of the staff, or even the traffic coming into the parking lot. These old geezers or yuppie bastards will find anything to project their pathetic existences onto others. Much like a wise man said, misery loves company.

Though, not all things are bad. I found a new friend, Dave. A typical cardboard cut-out of a jock. He is basically a walking caricature of the asshole football player in any teen movie. He is good fun though, and is actually quite charismatic, and all the girls love him. Dave is riding a scholarship to New Orleans over for his skills as a quarterback. He must not have had a hard time getting it, his only competition here are three counties, all of which have the grade point averages of flies, and the athletic abilities of paraplegics. I cant knock him though; he is doing more with his life than me.
Another decent thing about the job is Kate. She is a hard-ass girl from the city. She is hot though, if she were selling her rocker-look, than I was buying. Kate plays the bass in a band that does gigs across the street in a bar. Not one of those neon lights and LSD bars. The older-styled, western types, youd think Clint Eastwood would straddle on through the front doors and challenge someone to a duel. People consider her the quiet type, but I heard her talking to her friends, she is a party girl. A pot smoking, rolling rock drinking party girl. There is nothing wrong with a little fun every now and then. Im invisible to her.

Here I sit, at the front desk, just reading the newest issue of Batman, when an older lady walks on through the front doors of Fur Ballz Pet Stop. I figure it is no problem. Ill handle her business then get back to Mr. Wayne- as if life were that easy. She approaches me;

Do you work here? she asks loudly. Now- I have two things to complain about. One, why the hell do old people talk so god-damned loud for? I think I have the answer. When they were young, their parents were old, and as age came, they lost their hearing. To make up for it, they spoke louder so they can hear themselves. Now their children, for example this fine lady in front of me, becomes def from the loudness of the parents. Now theyre def at their older age, now speaking louder, making me def. Later, my children will be def, and the cycle just continues and continues throughout my familys bloodline. A nice tradition to look forward to.

Two, what kind of question is, do I work here.No, maam. I just love wearing this hot pink polo shirt that says FUR BALLZ every other inch on it. It really brings out the color in my eyes, dont you think?obviously she doesnt. I think this, but I say;

Yes, maam- how may I help?

Can you show me to your best cat food in here?! she yells to me, even though Im 8 and a half inches away from her. Spit hits my face as I say;

Follow me miss. She responds fine, she can hear, I guess she just chooses to scream.

December 14th, 2010, 06:18 AM
I didn't particularly enjoy this. I think it's because I've seen so many variations on this theme (only sane man in a world of jerks and idiots) that it's become stale for me. Especially when the narrator himself appears to be a hypocritical jerk (being a smartaleck just means that he's a smartalecky jerk), I feel absolutely no sympathy for him or his listless life at the Fur Ballz Pet Stop. The only thing I feel for the narrator is contempt as he appears to be a smarmy popinjay who thinks he's better than everyone else. If that's what you were going for, you really nailed it. If not, I'd suggest lengthening this piece to include some interaction where the narrator has to deal with a situation in which he isn't a complete jerk. Perhaps some interaction with this Kate character? Another thing you want to watch out for is just assigning a stereotype to all the characters. It makes for simple characterization, but it also can stymie character development and/or makes the characters appear quite shallow. I do enjoy a good smartaleck character and have written a few myself, but to have one as a protagonist, your smartaleck needs to be somewhat sympathetic. I cannot identify with the narrator because his 'suffering' does not seem to merit the contempt with which he views the rest of the world.