People,

Sometimes I think I am just not cut out for the life of a commissioned retail salesperson. As many of you know, I am one moody bastard and this makes it hard to feel truly invested in selling bratty kids and smarmy parents the guitar they want for Christmas.

These days I've been using the TB test to determine when I should take a break and leave the floor.

What is the TB test, you ask? Well, it used to be called the cancer test, but then that got complicated by the number of people I knew who have cancer so it got switched to TB. Essentially it works like this - when my day is going badly and I have a really annoying customer to deal with I ask myself "Self, do I wish that this person would contract Tuberculosis?" Usually the answer is no and I realize I'm just a little stressed. But when the answer is yes, or, when the answer is "no, but I wish they would die in a fiery car crash" then I know that maybe it's time to take a Mountain Dew break.

So far so good, although a number of Rochesterians will soon be coughing if my subconscious has its way. Jerks.