Gosh, if you shop at Pavillions in West Hollywood, it probably hasn’t escaped your attention.
A handful of the employees there are downright creepy and dim-witted.
Don’t drink the water at that location!
I suspect there is something in the pipes that has turned their brains into rot gut.
For instance, sometimes when I am shopping, an odd Afro-American box boy will dash up from behind me - halt a few inches from my face - and stare blankly in my direction.
Then, like a scared rabbit, he darts off down the asile.
Talk about goofy!
Then, there’s the rotund little Latino security (!) guard who waddles around the grocery with a Cheshire grin on his face, who thinks he’s the cat’s meow.
Down Tiger, keep that pussy in your pants!
But, the one that is truly creepy, is the cashier who toils away just across from the Pizza oven on the edge of Starbuck’s café (with all the personality warmth and charm of a slug).
When God was giving out “looks”, he must have been hiding under a slimy rock.
His skin is pale with a greenish sickly tinge to it - and his eyes are not only suspicious in nature - but beady and distinctively unattractive.
The nose is what you’d call a snoz, so you get the picture.
Judging by his overall ugliness, I don’t anticipate there is one beauty gene in his fleshy, overweight body.
I just betcha that his mother has hair on her shoulders (and on her upper lip, too).
Whenever I am in Pavillions, and pop down to check e-mail or update a post out-of-the-blue, he stares at me surreptiously from his perch.
I’ve been tempted to look up when I sense his eyes on me and quip:
“Sir, I’m not interested in your sexual advances.”
But, I expect the creep would deny he’s been staring at me, for weeks on end!
So, I intend to take a Video clip of him next time I have my camera, and post it on the Internet so all of my avid readers can get a gander at the pathetic stalker for themselves.
Then, there are the two security guards - weighing two-to-three-hundred pounds apiece - who also get my goat (fatso 1 and fatso 2).
I half-expect that if this loathsome twosome had to chase after an actual thief, that they would drop dead in their tracks because there is so much cholesterol clogging their veins!
One dykish supervisor is a scrawny little anorexic thing who kind of reminds me of mighty mouse.
The blond hag who I reported on in an earlier post - always makes a point of catching my eye - but just the thought of her gazing my way gives me an acute attack of nausea.
Can you imagine slipping between the sheets with that!
Talk about rough sex (tough love, whatever).
One Latino manager struts around the store, is deluded into thinking that he is far superior to his fellow Mexicans, because he has lighter skin.
He probably tries to pass for white, do ‘ya think?
Meanwhile, the gals who stock the bins at the doughnut counter, are under the wild impression that they are young beauty queens or something.
Not!
So, at this juncture, I expect these images have managed to rustle up a crystal clear impression of the looney-tunes goings-on unfolding at the WeHo grocery daily.
Yeah, you’re taking your sanity in your hands, when you step into that zoo!
There must be a lot of nepotism and favoritism going on in the hiring hall.
Why would anyone give these losers a job if that was not the case?
Follow my cue.
Ignore the a**holes, do your shopping, and facilitate the automated teller machines.
The less contact the better!
Who knows, maybe what they have is contagious!
Come to think of it, if my memory serves me well, I don’t recall any employee there ever washing their hands after taking a sh**.
Yuck!
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