Black-Belt In Bluffing

(It is during a regular shift in the middle of the day. I’m the supervisor in service and I get a call from one of the register operators telling me that another one of the girls is getting shouted at by a customer and they’re getting scared. I walk over and, sure enough, there’s a man shouting at the girl about how much his total came to.)

Me: “Excuse me, what’s going on here?”

Customer: “NONE OF YOUR F****** BUSINESS, C***!”

Me: “HEY! There is no need for that language, sir.”

(I step in between the girl and him, because at this point she’s crying, and I tell the girl who called me to call Mr Steed — our ‘Get the muscle up here’ call.)

Customer: “YOU WANNA F****** GO?! HUH?!”

Me: *perfectly calm* “Sure thing.”

(The customer deflates and looks around awkwardly, realising the attention he’s drawn and the fact that I wasn’t backing down from his threat seemed to shut him up.)

Customer: “I mean a fight!” *it’s more hesitant like he’s confirming that I understand the proposal*

Me: “I’m aware of that. I’d be happy to take this outside, sir. But I’m required by law to inform you that I’m trained in multiple styles of martial arts and cannot guarantee your safety if there is an altercation. If you are still willing to continue this, I’d be happy to follow you out. Or if you’d rather, you can pay for your shopping, apologise to this young lady like you d*** well mean it, then leave my store and stay the h*** out.”

Customer: *pulls out his card, pays for the shopping, says he’s sorry, and walks out of the store without another word*

(I ask, the girl if she’s okay, then one of the grocery boys that came up for the Mr. Steed call to walk with her to the break room and tell her to have a proper cry and come back when she’s up for it.)

Phone-Girl: “Can you really do all that martial arts stuff?”

Me: “H***, no. But he didn’t know that.”

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