WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER HIRE BRITTANY TAYLOR
(The time: December of 2006. The place: Cashman's gift box section. Sandi approaches the gift wrapping desk, manned by Brittany Taylor.)
Brittany: Like, can I help you?
Sandi: Like, I want seven gift boxes to wrap presents in for, like, my family.
Brittany: Gift, huh?
Sandi: Right. I want seven of them, one large, three medium, and three small.
Brittany: OK, one medium, three large and three small.
Sandi (sounding testy): No, no, one large, three medium and three small....
Brittany: OK, seven gift boxes, three small, three medium and one large--er, how do you spell gift box?
Sandi (sighing in frustration): G-I-F-T, B-O-X.
(Brittany picks up a pen and a notepad and writes down on it.)
Brittany: OK, G-I-F-T, B-O-S........
Sandi (frustrated): X, X, B-O-X!!
Brittany: Sounds like a new cheer. (Jumps up, doing her splits and her Lawndale High cheerleader routiine) X, X, B-O-X!! X, X, B-O-X!! GOOOOOOOOOOOOO, BOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Sandi is livid--up to the point of grabbing Brittany by her blazer and sticking her red face in the cheerleader's.)
Sandi: Just give me my gift boxes before I stick a rocket in your out of style blazer and aim you towards Russia!! GRRRR!!
Brittany: OK, OK, you got your boxes, hang on!!
(Sandi lets go of Brittany, who consults her note pad.)
Brittany: Seven gift boxes, one large, three medium and three small...... gift box...... G-I-F-T, B-O-X.... uh, how do you make a B?