I Have I(rritable)B(owel)S(yndrome)

I worked on Monday. Not much happened. They are remodeling the store so most of the stuff that used to surround me that I sold has moved elsewhere. Thus, I don't do much. But I still do get the occasional customer, such as the seventy-ish year-old Arab guy in this convo:

SYOAG: You have very nice haircut. It is like movie star hair.
Me: Too bad I don't get paid like a movie star.
SYOAG: You should become a model. They make lots of money.

I guess I am so hot that it traverses the chasms of age, race, and sexual preference (I'm assuming he was straight). Unfortunately it does not know how to find it's way to the illusive girl I am interested in.

Brad and Sarah have a cat that is currently walking around my feet. I am not sure of the gender. Anyway, his/her name is Shadow. Strangely enough he/she is not a black cat. My mind is having a hard time accepting this fact. Thus, I call her/him DJ Shadow. I am not familiar with the work of said DJ. If I was, I would probably notice that it bares little resemblance to the habits of this cat.

IMFRTCPMYL, we have finally deteremined what political party I belong to. I am a Banana Republican. Take that, Natural Law Party!