Crinkle Brain

(My coworker and I teach art classes at a craft store. We are getting ready for a class when a customer pokes her head in the door and politely asks for help, acknowledging that we are busy. We of course say, “sure!” She is holding a packet of the crinkle stuff that is often used in Easter baskets or gift bags; picture something like confetti, but in long strips instead of little pieces.)

Customer: “Do you know how long each strip is?”

(I don’t know why customers think we have this information memorized. Well, it is in a bag all smushed up, so it’s hard to tell.)

Me: “We can open up the package and look.” *knowing that the package had a sticky closure that would seal right back up in case she didn’t want to buy it*

(I open it up and show her, then seal it again and hand it back to her. While I am doing that, she keeps asking very specific, weird questions that are either simple or impossible to answer, like asking if she can cut the strips smaller and how long that will take. It’s made of paper, so it is fairly self explanatory, I would think…. Then she says:)

Customer: “Thanks. But I do need one more thing from you. Show me where I got this from? I don’t remember.”

(Even though it is all the way across the store and we are busy with our class stuff, we agree. My coworker goes to show the lady and comes back fuming.)

Coworker: “That lady was f***** crazy!”

Me: “What did she do?”

Coworker: “The only reason she asked me to show her where that was is so she could get a new package because she didn’t want to buy the one you opened!”

Me: “Seriously?!”

Coworker: “Yeah, and she’s just going to take it home and rip it open anyway!”

(Mind you, I sealed it up almost perfectly to where you could barely tell it had been opened. And it was sealed completely so the item wasn’t in danger of falling out. I can understand if it was a gift or something, but it definitely wasn’t.)