All This… Over A Purse?!

I come into work for my afternoon shift through the front of the store. Things aren’t looking too bad customer-wise… and I jinxed it with that thought.

A kid comes sprinting straight up to me who is, give or take, about six years old. His eyes are all on my purse which, I’ll admit, is pretty nice. I managed to snag a pricey brand that is patterned with the letter C in teal and lavender colors.

The kid comes to a stop, eyes glued to my purse.

Kid: “Can I see that purse?”

I get the creeping feeling of “this is going to go south” and give him a small, tight smile. I move my arm a little so he can see the pattern better but keep a grip on it.

Me: “Pretty cool, huh?”

Kid: *Frowns at me a little* “No, I said I want to see that purse.”

He reaches for it. I promptly tuck it firmly against my side.

Me: “Sorry, honey, look with your eyes only, okay?”

Kid: “No. You’re going to give it to me to look at.”

Me: “No, I’m not, son.”

Kid: *Turning it up to eleven instantly* “YOU CAN’T TELL ME ‘NO!’ GIVE ME THE PURSE OR I’M TELLING MY MOM!”

Me: “Go right ahead and tell her, kiddo.”

The kid spins around and sprints off.

I’m no idiot: if this is the kid, I hold no illusions about the behavior of the mom. I want my personal belongings nowhere near this train wreck. Since I’m right next to the employee door, I dart inside, stuff my purse in my locker and lock it.

A few minutes later, I’m signed in and walking the floor to the front of the store.

Kid: “THERE SHE IS, MOM!”

Sigh. So help me, if this is a sign of how my entire day is going to go, I quit… On the plus side, I can already see a coworker on the phone, calling the manager. We’re good about spotting those huge, flashing, neon signs that warn of danger.

The raging woman comes storming up to me just as I reach the registers.

Entitled Mom: “Did you just tell my child ‘no’?!”

Me: “Yes.”

Entitled Mom: “How dare you?! You do not tell my child ‘no!'”

Kid: “She wouldn’t let me hold her purse!”

Entitled Mom: “Where is the purse?”

Me: “I put it away.”

Entitled Mom: “My son wants to see your purse! Go get it for him!”

Me: “Nope.”

Entitled Mom: “My. Son. Wants. To. Hold. Your. Purse. Go. Get. It.”

Me: “Nope.”

Entitled Mom: “You will get your purse and give it to my son, or I will have you fired.”

Me: “Nope.”

Entitled Mom: “Manager! NOW!”

Me: “Yup.”

The manager is jogging our way, expression confused.

Manager: “What’s going—”

Entitled Mom: “I want this b**** fired!”

Manager: “I heard something about a purse…?”

Entitled Mom: “My son asked to hold a purse, and she refused to hand it to him!”

Me: “That’s because the purse is mine, ma’am.”

Manager: *Eyebrow raised* “My employee doesn’t have to let your son hold her personal property, ma’am.”

Entitled Mom: “You can’t refuse my son service!”

[Manager] glances at me, and I can read his thoughts.

Manager: “Yes, actually, we can. Ma’am, we have purses on the floor that your son is perfectly welcome to hold.”

Kid: *Screaming* “I WANT THAT ONE!”

Entitled Mom: “I don’t care about those purses. My son wanted a specific purse, and this b**** refused him.”

Manager: “I repeat: my employee doesn’t have to let your son hold her personal property. Now, unless you actually want to shop for a product that we’re actually selling, I think we’re done here.”

Kid: *Still full volume* “I WANT THE PURSE!”

Entitled Mom: *Seething* “I’ll call corporate!”

Manager: *Scribbling on a scrap of paper, holding it out, and smiling* “Here’s their phone number.”

The woman snatches the slip of paper out of his hand and storms off, angrily screeching child in tow.

Manager: “[My Name], go into the back and… I dunno, hide or something, until I call you.”

I stay in the back for quite a while. I find out later the woman whipped out her cell phone three feet away from the door, jabbed her finger on it like the phone had personally insulted her, and ranted into it for several minutes.

Our phone rang a few minutes after that, and the woman stared in at my manager with an expression of smug superiority as the manager picked it up.

Big Wig: “[Manager], you’re not going to believe the call I just got, and I’m not even sure if your employees are just bored or what…”

Manager: “Oh, I bet I can believe it. Let me guess, some lady just called because my employee wouldn’t give her personal property to a kid.”

Beat of silence.

Big Wig: “…so this isn’t a prank?”

According to my coworkers, who were shamelessly watching this debacle go down, the mom’s smug expression wavered when my manager grinned widely and then laughed.

Manager: “Nope. Sorry. It’s an actual thing.”

There was a long, deep sigh. My manager said he could almost see the Big Wig pinching the bridge of his nose.

Big Wig: “I’ll call her back and tell her that since no policies were broken, no action will be taken at this time. If she harasses your employees, just have her removed by the police. Ban her if she pushes it.”

He hung up. The lady’s phone rang. She snatched it up, and her face twisted into an expression of “lemon, no sugar,” and barked out:

Entitled Mom: “I will never shop at your store again!”

She then pulled her phone away from her ear as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, glares murderously at my manager, and disappeared into the sunset.

For once, the promise of never returning was kept, and there was rejoicing throughout the land.

This story is part of our Halfway-Through-2022 roundup!

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