A lady is waiting outside my workplace in a mall before I even open. She is staring at me before I even unlock the door; I still have my bag, my coat, and everything still on. She is expecting me to serve her right away.

I try to ignore her and enter the store, closing the door behind me, and start preparing for the day

I am hoping she will get the hint that the store is not open yet, but she doesn’t. She continues staring at me until I run out of things to do.

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t open for another ten more minutes.”

Customer: “I understand.”

Despite this, she continues to stand there and just… stare at me. I leave the store for five minutes while I go to the bathroom, hoping that she will wait somewhere else — or leave — but as I am walking back, I notice that she is actually standing at the corner waiting for me, like she can’t believe I left her hanging.

As I am opening the door to go back inside, still trying to ignore her:

Customer: “I’ll want to get [item].”

Me: “I’m still not open yet.”

She pulls out her card and stands at the till, still just staring at me. I realize the item she wants is part of a delivery that still has not arrived.

Me: “That item will be a bit late; the driver is still a few minutes away with [items].”

Customer: *Mad* “Call the driver!”

Me: “He won’t pick up because he’s driving.”

Customer: “You’re just lying to be lazy! Like you’ve been lazy and slow all morning!”

The delivery comes in less than two minutes later. She marches up to the driver.

Customer: “I am waiting!“

I serve her as soon as I can just to get rid of her. After she pays:

Customer: “You should say sorry!”

Me: “It’s not like I could control traffic.” 

I told her the information as I knew it and that stuff like this was out of our control. A bad start to a bad day, and it was only getting worse…

Related:
Not So Closed Minded, Part 37
Not So Closed Minded, Part 36
Not So Closed Minded, Part 35
Not So Closed Minded, Part 34
Not So Closed Minded, Part 33

I am working at a tiny kiosk that sells cell phone cases and peripherals. A customer is browsing our selection and sighs with disappointment.

Customer: “Is this everything?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “Don’t you have anything in the back?”

Me: “Ma’am, this is a kiosk.”

She stares blankly but expectantly.

Me: “Everything you see? This is both front and back.”

Customer: “Every store should have a back.”

She strutted off thinking she’d won an argument.

I’m the author of “Totally Speechless“. Remember that I am mute.

One day, I went to the mall with my friend, who is deaf. We were having lunch in the food court and signing to each other when a woman walked past and dropped this gem.

Woman: “You f****** invalids shouldn’t be in public.”

She didn’t even keep her voice down. She just casually said it as she walked by, obviously under the assumption that neither of us would hear it.

My friend saw how mad I was and signed in question. I keep a pen and notepad in my purse in case I need to say something that cannot be conveyed with hand gestures.

After writing my message, I excused myself and walked up to the woman, who was waiting in line for her own lunch. She seemed very confused by my approach. I handed her the note.

Note: “Hi. My voice may not work, but my ears do. Would you like me to relay what you just said to my fellow f****** invalid?”

The woman turned bright red and stammered an apology before scurrying away, dropping the note. When I got back to my table, I explained the situation to my friend and showed her the note. We had a good laugh about it.

Related:
Totally Speechless

Many years back, I hadn’t been away from my abusive family’s influence long enough to say no when they said they’d be picking me up on the way to my grandmother’s for an early Christmas. On the way, we stopped at a shopping mall to stretch our legs and spend gift money. We were very sternly warned to be back at the meeting spot on time so that we weren’t late for dinner because we didn’t want to upset Grandma. (She wasn’t part of the abuse, but Mom and [Stepfather] threatening us with other people was.)

My sister (still in high school and living with Mom) and I were very careful to be there a few minutes before the appointed time, but when it rolled around, my mother and stepfather were nowhere to be seen. Five minutes passed, and then ten, so I told my sister to wait in case they showed up and I’d do a quick stroll through the mall to find them.

I did find them. They were in a pet shop, signing the final paperwork on a purebred Saint Bernard puppy. I was told to go wait, and they’d be along soon. I returned and let my sister know where they were, and she got livid. She ran to the pet store and started yelling.

Sister: “This is money you should be spending on me! How dare you neglect me in favor of a new dog?!”

Stepfather: *Yelling back* “This is my money, and I don’t need to spend any of it on my wife’s kids!”

Eventually, my mother quieted them down (“calmed” would be doing too much heavy lifting here). The dog was paid for and slated to be picked up on our way home, and we were told in no uncertain terms that Grandma was not to hear about this because she’d be upset hearing about a new dog.

In the end, Mom told Grandma about the dog over dinner, and Grandma was not the least upset over it. Mom, [Stepfather], and [Sister] came to the conclusion that their entire fight had been somehow orchestrated by me to try and destroy the “happy part of the family” out of spite. (Apparently, my sister was never going to notice stopping at the mall on the way back, the dog sitting in the car on the drive, or, you know, a SAINT BERNARD living in the house for the next decade or two).

I went on to write this story and to reduce the contact I have with my family.

Related:
Getting A Slap In The Face For Christmas

It is December 23rd, and I am working in a high-end homewares store. The mall where the store is located is open until late at night, and it’s getting to that angry, stressed-out, desperate stage — the stage where you could wrap a turd in Christmassy paper and someone would buy it.

A middle-aged woman comes in with her teenage daughter. The daughter is a walking cliché: eye-rolling, glued to her phone, and answering her mother with grunts and theatrical sighs.

Mother selects an expensive cookbook and stand, and she wants them wrapped together. I am not an expert gift-wrapper, so it takes me a while. We give Mum a ticket, and she comes back about thirty minutes later.

Something has clearly transpired between Mother and Daughter by the time they come back. Daughter is looking sulky, and Mother is fuming. She slaps the ticket down.

Customer: *Harshly* “I’ve changed my mind! I want a refund!”

Then, the floodgates open.

Customer: “This store is too expensive! Your products are tacky! You should be open more hours! You took too long, and your attitude sucks!”

Me: “Okay… here’s your refund, ma’am. Merry Christmas.”

She was back ten minutes later with some stuff she had fished out of our discount section, and she wanted it wrapped IMMEDIATELY.

So, I did.

I also left the discounted price tags on everything.