A Tornado Of Awfulness

Our store is the only real full-sized grocery store in a little town. We have just had a tornado warning. It thankfully passed without incident, but it was enough to cause a slight panic attack in one of my coworkers who has some tornado-related PTSD.

A customer is emerging from the shelter with the rest of us and notices the coworker gaining control of her breathing.

Customer: “What’s wrong with her? She was helping me before we had to waste our time! I need her back on her feet.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, she just needs a moment. I’ll be happy to take over your transaction for you.”

Customer: “But what is wrong with her?”

Me: “Nothing, sir, she’s just a bit shaken from the tornado warning.”

Customer: “Ugh… all these people have something these days! Everyone has ADHD because they’re too lazy to concentrate! Everyone is autistic because they’re too scared to talk to people! Everyone has depression this and is triggered by that! If all these people are too weak to actually live, then let them all kill themselves and we can filter them out of the gene pool!”

Me: “Sir… first of all… wow. Secondly, if you genuinely believe even one word of what you just said, then we’re done here. Leave, now. I won’t ask again. You’re banned.”

Customer: “But this is the only store in town! You can’t ban me!”

Me: “I can, and I have. If it makes you sad, well then boo-hoo. Go and be depressed about it.”

He gave me a middle finger and stormed out. He’s tried to sneak back in twice, but we all know him — little town, remember — and tell him to leave.