Calling Out Their Calling Out

I’m being helped with phoning in an order, as the in-store kiosk won’t accept it at the time. Three teenage girls get behind me in line. A few minutes pass when the fussing starts. I’m a girl who fits the nature of this store, with piercings and bleached hair; they are very much the opposite. I’m also on a first-name basis with the manager helping me.

Girl #1: “Oh, my God, this is taking so long. I only have three things.”

Girl #2: “Don’t they have someone else here working?”

My manager ignores them but glances at me knowingly. They continue fussing while I grow more impatient with them.

Girl #3: “Why is this taking so long? We’re gonna have to skip [Other Store].”

I have finally had enough.

Me: “Oh, my God, will you please be patient?! If this was you at the register, you’d want him to help you, too!”

Girl #2: “Oh, it’s not you… um…”

All three grew quiet and finally learned how to whisper, only to leave with their heads down a minute later. I apologized to the other two people now in line, but they waved it off and waited the two more minutes my phone order took. I think I earned my old lady card in the process, but I got a good laugh out of teaching them some manners!