(My first day on the job my manager decided that we weren’t getting enough business and proceeded to hand me a plastic pitchfork, wrap a feather boa around my neck and shove me out onto a street corner in the ghetto with a sign.)

People in a passing car: “SATANIST B***H!” *throws ketchup packets at me*

(A short time later…)

White car driven by an older man pulls up: “Miss?”

Me: *walks over* “Yes?”

Him: “How much?”

Me: “…excuse me?”

Him: “Well I don’t usually go for the satanic looking type. I guess you could get out of all that black…”

Me: “What the…oh….” *I start laughing hysterically*

him: “What? You aren’t?”

Me: *I point up towards the store* “Mister, I work for the Halloween shop…”

Him: “Oh, when do you open?”

Me: “I don’t. The store is open now though.”

(Old man blushes and speeds away.)

(After that, I picked up my sign, went back to the store and told my manager that I refused to do that ever again.)