I'm a Terrible Person

One of my bosses calls this woman “Angel” and I think it might be her real name. However, my dear friend, who works in the bakery, calls her “The Bagel Bitch.”

Let’s go back two years, to when i worked next door in a beauty supply store. Sometimes my best friend would meet me after work and we would take the bus to the movies or something.

On one of these days, Mindsay Mohan and I were giggling at the bus stop and taking pictures of ourselves. You know the kind, the two girls’ heads together and one holding the camera up in the air. It’s hard to get anything else in the picture. It’s clear you’re taking a picture of yourselves, isn’t it?

Well. Unbeknown to us, the bagel bitch was also at the bus stop, and was convinced we were taking pictures of her. As she walked past us on the bus, she growled at us to stop taking pictures of her, and that she was going to call the police on us.

We laughed to each other for a while about that. Some crazy lady….

I guess I didn’t know just HOW crazy she was.

Would you like to know why my friend calls her “The Bagel Bitch?”

From the stories she’s told me, this crazy lady used to complain about the bagels every single morning. The store doesn’t bake the bagels there, they get delivered. So essentially, complaining about the bagels means nothing.

Her complaints alternated between saying that the bagels were “too burnt” or “too raw/uncooked.” No one else could see anything wrong with the bagels, but she insisted on loudly screaming about the bagels.

Also, she took a strong disliking to my friend, going so far as to say she was stalking her, following her around the store to put her hair in her food, and she would scream in the store that she wanted my friend kicked out, to stop following her, etc. My friend was actually told once to stay in the back room until the woman left the store.

Um, yea. My hunny has better things to do, but I don’t, since I’m blogging about you.

Supposedly the bagel bitch is schizophrenic. I’ve heard she used to walk around with a fake cell phone, one that looked like a child’s toy, and pretend to be talking to her “husband” on it. She’d claim she was calling the police when my friend was “following” her.

I’ve seen her around a lot, since i’ve always worked in the area and we both take buses. It’s time to describe The Bagel Bitch. Oh yes, it’s time. We’ve now reached the best part of this.

You see, the bagel bitch, or Angel, if you prefer, is a short woman. Her long black hair nearly reaches her knees, and sometimes when she hasn’t dyed it she has about two inches of pure gray roots. Angel has massively big tits. I’m not talking big breasts like my own, this bitch has got like double H titties. They take up most of her body. She likes platform shoes.

Let’s describe some outfits I’ve seen her in:

- head to toe orange, with FUR pants. that’s right, it looked like an orange shag carpet attacked her legs.

- a cheerleader skirt and short tube top

- head to toe white, including a fur vest and white purse with long fringe

- white leopard print leggings and a variety of shirts.

I wish I could remember more outfits, but they are always outlandish and make you want to gouge your eyes out.

Now that i work in the deli, Ive had more encounters with her. She’ll come and order land o lakes white american cheese, and she’s very specific about how she wants it cut and packed. Then she’ll get some macaroni salad, and she wants half a pound. Once, it weighed at .47. A half pound is .50, right? So…. .47 is essentially half a pound.But no, Angel insisted i make it HALF A POUND exactly, because her husband would be upset if it was not a half of a pound. I put like one piece of macaroni more in it.

My manager is the sweetest lady. She’s friendly to everyone, laid back but hard working, happy, and she likes to sing sometimes. No one dislikes my manager. it’s pretty much impossible.

Well one day Angel was at the counter and my manager was quickly wiping the glass counter with windex. As i was slicing her cheese, i hear my manager say, “good morning” as she wiped the glass near Angel. Then, I hear, “DON’T TALK TO ME” in a nassstttty growl.

Another day, my manager was helping customers on the counter so I could finish the hoagies I had to make. I feel someone watching me and i turn my head to see Angel staring at me and whispering “can you help me instead?” So I did…. not questioning why she hates my awesome manager so much.

And yet another day, my manager was covering the seafood dept, which is connected to the deli. As she was putting fish on the table, she was singing. A happy song, a beautiful voice. Everyone else enjoys when she sings. Angel, at the deli, gave her dirty looks and said to me that she should shut up and stop being so loud.

I haven’t quite figured out how she chooses who she hates and who is “following” her or who she likes. All I know is the bitch is crazy, and I’ve never seen anyone else dress like that.

I do have a picture somewhere, i’ll upload it later.