Sometimes repetitive, menial tasks are comforting.
Well, sometimes they are! Because that means you don't have to think. Cut some plastic, seal one end, put the thing in, seal the other end...about 100 times. That's what I sometimes have to do at work. But at least I don't have to deal with customers--horrible, confused, stupid customers.
Which is another thing: I hate dealing with customers. I can never answer their questions, because I haven't used EVERY SINGLE ART MATERIAL IN THE STORE and I don't know how they all work (I work in a warehouse with an adjacent art store). I just don't know. This lady came in and was like "I have a self-portrait and it was in a bag and, well, there was another paper in there and this other paper had some ink on it, and the ink got onto the self-portrait. Is there anything I could use that might get the ink off??" Gee. Lemme go get the INK-ON-SELF-PORTRAIT-REMOVER. Second shelf up on the left. Oh wait, no--it's right here, in MY BACK POCKET!!
Nobody that goes into that store actually knows what they're getting, nor do they know where it is in the store. And since I only work part time there, I usually don't know any more than they do; so I ask somebody else, and sometimes what they're looking for just ISN'T THERE, and then they look at me like I'm lying to them! Wha? It's not here! Do you want me to use my wand and make it appear?
And just yesterday, this girl wanted to look inside a portfolio. See, the portfolios are SEALED and we can't open them for customers. So that's what I told her. And she looked at me as if I was going to make a special exception for her, because she really wanted to look inside of one. She looked at me like a lost little puppy dog. It was quite pitiful.
In conclusion (if I have one) I hate customer service. My motto has always been, "get it/do it yourself." Be independent. So, I don't belong in customer service; I'll be back in the warehouse.