Let's be a judgemental shop bottom

I'm the hiss.

I'm the hours spent starting threads about "Things That Are High Class" on Datalounger

(Datalounger is Datalounge's new furniture line)

I'm the overly tight g-string that is cutting into my ass and contributing to my toxic demeanour. I am there to provide the touch and friction that is otherwise lacking.

I'm the "Datalounger XXXL", the series for DLers with a little something "extra", which r2 is currently posting from.

I'm the thin-lipped smile as I deign to help you.

I'm the ignoring your existence if you're not at least a 9.

I'm the minimum wage that I make.

You only work in a shop you know, you can drop the attitude!

I am the smart sassy stylish Elder gay who has built a relationship with the African-American sales lady who works with the shot bottom. I bring her small Gifts of appreciation for helping me maintain my stylish external demeanor while walking past the shop bottom with a glare of dismissal.

I'm the security guard, rolling my eyes, with a heavy sigh as I'm called out once again because the fey has managed to provoke a frau into trying to scratch his eyes out as he laughs manically. I'll certainly be giving him a stern talking to later when I'm fucking him in the supply closet on our lunch break. G-d, I hope my wife doesn't call.

I'm the delusions of grandeur about my future. Those dreams will be crushed once I hit 40, and I'm still working somewhere as a shop bottom.

I'm the pursed lips when I ask you at the beauty counter if you've tried our serum and you say that you 'don't need it'.

I'm the frosted tip highlight hairstyle that's been worn since Pride circa 2000- thousands of dollars worth of overpriced on trend gels have kept me in place

Shops are still a thing?

I'm Liza and I see you've all met fiancé.

I tell you the LIE—that that ‘snug fit looks good and covers your lumps’. Quietly I’m thinking, I should outfit you in a few caftans for happy hour at the Waffle House.

I keep my cell in pocket in case there’s a hint of VPL on an attractive guy.

I'm the trash bag full of samples and testers that will mysteriously find its way to his car rather than the bins.

r17

I’m the looking at the hot guy behind me while trying to answer my question.

I’m the one shop bottom shunning the other shop bottom because he only works for Bobby Brown and I for Pat McGrath.

I'm the over-obvious following of the tech guy who makes seven figures around the shop because he looks like a hobo while the real thieves know to dress the part.

I'm the catfight between Shop Bottom Stephan and Shop Bottom André. I started after SBS dared to hint that SBA's budding musical theatre career is a construct of his fantasy. I involve hair pulling, swift kicks to the shins and bitter tears tracing rivulets in layers of semi-expensive makeup. I will end when a ripping sound is heard and SBA's torn Versace shirt sparks a hissing debate about compensation payments.

I'm the clothes stolen from work because he can't afford to shop there himself.

I'm the Yelp review complaining about me. 'Looking over at me and sniggering with a colleague' and 'silent treatment when I went to pay' got mentioned.

I'm the second career as cheap gigolo.

I'm OnlyFans. I'm my future if I can maintain my physique and looks.

I'm the elf costume he's made to wear every christmas season that results in the rest of the staff camping it up around him while he plots how he'll murder them all and get away with it.

We're the rioters busting through the door, stealing everything and beating the shit out of that white faggot.

I’m the Grindr message from SlitSlut who is 0 feet away: “you look poor and gross”

[quote] African-American sales lady

Tell me you are over 75 without telling me you are over 75

I am refusing to hand you anything directly, including your change.

I'm this thread he just started

I'm the phone the JSB stares at whilst you silently wait for them to finish their text to their trick from the night before. I never leave the JSB's hand.

Is Zemen-Wambuis a shop bottom?

I'm Sasha from Jenna Maroney's "30 Rock" gay entourage.

I'm the tongue click you hear followed by an exaggerated sigh when you ask to see something from behind the counter. Then it's the tap, tap, tapping from one hand on the counter and the other hovering over the security buzzer below.

I'm the little old rich bitch he jumps over the counter and pushes you to the ground to greet and guide to his counter because bitch, he works on commission and your skank ass he knows isn't going to pay his rent.

I’m the chance to say (in an overly loud voice):

“You do realize those shirts you’re looking at are slim-fit, don’t you?”

I'm his coworker hag.

I'm the rare moment of compassion and empathy he felt for his hag co-worker. that resulted in him getting fired. That'll teach him!

Where's the "have you found a treasure?" guy? I love him.

I'm an unrecognized Oprah and Gayle, because all black people look alike, don't we??

r43 No, it was because of busted ass discount weave and coming in looking like you needed directions to Lane Bryant.

I’m the spot of cum he didn’t realize is on his tie

r43 Oprah is unknown in France. The Hermes shopgirls had no idea who she was, and the store was closed.

R35, no, but if you could afford to enter my store I'd treat you graciously and help you choose whatever it is you're looking for. But you still wouldn't be satisfied with anything, and after you toss your curls and demand to speak to a manager, only to discover you ARE speaking to him, I'd watch you storm out and laugh as one of the staff hands me your Malibu Barbie wallet that fell out of your clutch.

I’ll be the acknowledgment of every other person in the store except the other gay. Who I will contort myself to check him out while appearing that I’m not looking at him.

I'm the deliberately slow voice in which he informs you that "These ties are... very expensive".

I'm the fake French or British accent that I affect.

I'm his latest wealthy date, who gets a free blowjob then ghosts him.

I'm the piece of toilet paper which JSB's female coworker is tearing to pieces while crying in the toilet. "Why is he so mean? Why??"

I am judgemental shop bottom adjacent, the judgemental waiter at the town's finest French restaurant. I am kind of cute but I'm also 5'5", aging, and my mustache and eyebrows are far too over groomed. My supercilious attitude is wearing thin for the regulars even if I do have a proper knowledge of the wine list.

In 5 to 7years I'll be even older and taking pizza orders in The Pines and wondering what happened.

I'm the Happy Hour with my other alcoholic shop bottom friends

"Yazzzzz queen. I know my worth!"

R53 reminds me of my fave Bitchy Waiter on YouTube

That was excruciating R55. He seems nice but he's not very funny.

I'm the department store cologne and perfume counter that houses the resident shop bottom.

I'm the nuclear beams of light that come out of his eyes when he spots Donatella Versace outside the shop. He jumps over the mangled bodies of his customers and bulldozes through the racks to catch a fleeting glimpse of his idol

I'm the hiphop that he invariably listens to.

“ Is Zemen-Wambuis a shop bottom?”

Zemen-Wambuis is THE shop bottom. “Anywhere you like, Sir!”

I am the sweaters that still need to be folded while he slacks off to compile his tedious Gap In-store Playlists collection.

I’m my spread open ass, waiting for men in the changing room

Shop bottom:

I'm the confused and irritated straight man's girlfriend, steamed that he seems to be bemused by JSB's flirting.

r64

I'm the nearly imperceptible raising of the eyebrows when your credit card does indeed go through, much to his disappointment.

I'm this skit.

Did Fallon laugh at his own jokes every single time?

Bump

What is the definition of a shop bottom?

Op you want me to be most DLers??

I'm the bear with a chapped asshole threatening the fucking cow lesbian with violence if she comes into my establishment after she peelled off my poor defenseless 2SLGBTQIA+ sticker off the window. She told me she'd press charges if I did.