Calling The Manager (Southern) Bell, Part 2
My manager is an old-school Southern Belle trapped in a man’s body. He walks right up to a customer, causing a fuss at my checkout, and says:
Manager: “Now, ma’am, what could possibly be causing such an upset over here that means you can’t play nice?”
Customer: “You’re the ones not playing nice! Why do you never carry dresses in my size! I always have to be told to order online! Why do I even bother coming in!?”
Manager: “Ma’am, I understand how that can be frustrating, but that’s not the fault of poor Clarissa here. Now we’re a small store in a small town, and we can’t have every size in store for every item. We need to—”
Customer: “—I don’t care! It’s your job to have what I want, and I want it now!”
Manager: “Y’all have not been through kindergarten, have y’all? That’s where I first learned the world ain’t givin’ me everything I want when I want it.”
Customer: “…I’m not about to be infantilized by some Southern—”
Manager: “—Y’all throwin’ around big words like that but don’t understand something as simple as the world not revolving around you?”
Customer: “You—”
Manager: “—Ma’am! We’re almost done here, so keep your face-scrunch muscles coiled up like that a lil’ longer. Now you can order online through sweet Clarissa here, you can go home and do it, or you can leave. Those are your options and your only options. Shouting at us is not one of those options.”
Customer: “You think I’m going to give this company any of my business after being spoken to like that, then you’re delusional as well as incompetent!”
She leaves, and my manager does a deep sigh.
Manager: “She sure knows a lot of big words for someone who doesn’t understand jack s***.”
Related:
Calling The Manager (Southern) Bell
