Shop and Let Die Read Online Free PDF Page B

message board
and quickly scanned the topic headers looking for the next great
job to apply for—or the latest interesting gossip such as the topic
started by ZaGirl called THEY CAUGHT ME!!!
    Being spotted is a mystery
shopper’s worst nightmare—once you were outed at a chain, the
managers passed your picture and/or description around and the
shopping company refused to schedule you at any of the chain’s
stores anymore. Depending on the chain, a shopper could lose access
to 5 to 10 shops, which added up. ZaGirl had done one too many
shops at this place and gotten comfortable, I guess.
    Her message reeked of
pathos—especially since she’d used the discouraged all-cap cyber
shout.
    SO WHAT DO I DO AT THE
PRODUCE COUNTER? I ASK THE MANAGER ABOUT SPINACH AND THEN DROP MY
RECORDER AND NOTES ON THE FLOOR BY HIS FEET!!! TOO BAD HE WASN’T
THE INDIFFERENT KIND. NO, JUST MY LUCK I GOT GENTLEMAN JIM. HE
PICKED UP THE PAPERWORK, HANDED IT BACK TO ME AND SAID, “I HOPE YOU
SCORE US FAVORABLY.” UGHH.
    She had posted that little
tidbit shortly after 6 p.m. She’d had tons of replies, from those
who had done similarly hare-brained things to those who took the
opportunity to lecture on what she should have done to prevent such
an “outing” from occurring. As if their answers would do her any
good. Before she submitted her report, her scheduler had called to
tell her she was done shopping that store. Not that there wouldn’t
be plenty of newbie shoppers to take her place.
    One of my most frequent
nightmares nowadays is being naked in a dressing room when the
store loudspeaker blares, “Molly Harbison is a Mystery Shopper!”
The booth slowly begins to rise around me. So far I’ve been lucky
enough to wake up by the time it reaches my knees.
    I tried not to think about
being outed. After all, I’m used to feeling like an actress playing
a good mom, and none of the other PTA or Girl Scout moms seem to
have caught on to the fact that I’m not always on top of things at
home.
    My first report went
smoothly, so it was no surprise when the second report kept kicking
me out every time I entered my data. Sigh.
    I had a personal hissy fit
and killed the report in favor of scanning for job leads. I found
and applied for five: TESTING 1! 2! 3! BONUS$$; RETAIL SHOP, VT ME
NY AL MS TX; EASY VISION SHOP; FAST FOOD REVEAL SHOP; and, the best
of them all, because I could take the family, ENTERTAINMENT, ASAP.
I knew the company and knew that it would be for our local
miniature golf course, because I’d done the shop twice
before.
    The last two times we had
done the shop Seth had made it clear he was underwhelmed with
getting two free paid passes plus a $15 shop fee. But he’d go and
enjoy himself. The kids loved miniature golf at this place. I put
my name in for the job as quickly as possible, hoping no one had
beaten me out yet.
    Finally, just before I was
ready to give up and email an excuse to the scheduler of the job
that refused to let me complete my report, the site agreed to take
my answers without having a meltdown.
    The third shop was really
quick: six screens, two questions each screen, with no long answers
that I’d have to carefully proofread. Work done. Time to
play.
    I scanned my message board
threads, surprised at how many were warnings about the serial
killer — AVOID SERIAL KILLER - DON’T DO MALL SHOE SHOPS. Or
sporting goods shops. Or, some claimed, vision shops.
    I marked all the
depressing serial killer threads read, so they’d disappear off my
screen, sent a few helpful replies and a riposte to someone’s
slightly off color mystery shopping joke. When I glanced at the
clock I was shocked to read 2:00 a.m. Darn. Seth was right, I
wouldn’t be much good without 8 hours sleep.
    When I climbed into bed,
Seth was dead to the world. I had to wrestle the covers from him;
he’d curled up in them. I wrestled carefully, listening to his
breathing. At last I had enough covers, they were warmed from his
sleeping body,