Sniff.

It's somewhat of a mind freak how all Linens N Things smell exactly the same, regardless of where they're located. It's a Linens N Things specific smell of, I'm assuming, linens and things and candles that hits you as soon as the automated doors swoop open.  It's like some kind of welcome wagon to trick most people into believing that they need a new duvet/Ultimate Chopper/toothbrush holder that coordinates with their shower curtain.

I say most people because I know that current and former employees of Linens N Things associate the smell with their job. I know I do. That smell hits me and for a split second I'm reminding myself to clock in ASAP so as to maximize the number of pennies I earn from the company while simultaneously wondering if anyone will return a giant container of Jelly Bellies so that I can damage them out and eat them all day long. Then I remember that I don't work there anymore, but I'm still wise to all the employee tricks. I know they don't care whether I find shelves or not. I know they just want to leave and get on with their lives. I know they're stealing Altoids and sniffing candles while pretending to be straightening them. I get it. 

Shopping is a solo act. You are in it alone, save for the person who got stuck at the register, the only place in the store where avoiding customers isn't an option. They're bored out of their mind and they know full well that their job can be and often is done by a robot so it's always nice to be as interesting as possible, just to break up the monotony for them. Chances are, if you're weird enough, they'll write you down in a notebook or on the back of a damage slip just in case they ever find themselves in need of a character for, I don't know, a story somewhere along the line because they know they could never make half of what they experience at the register up on their own. I'm just guessing. This is purely hypothetical. 

My career history is shaping up to be almost as interesting as my educational history. I've traded babies for linens for waxed cotton jackets back to babies and soon I will trade understandably needy babies for ridiculously needy adults.

My dues are going to be very expensive, it's time to start making some payments.