Critical Miss
I’m working a clopen (closing a night and opening the next day). The evening before, we’d had a card tournament that we were still cleaning up a little the next day. The phone rings.
Me: “Thank you for calling [Store Name], this is [My Name]. How can I help you today?”
Caller: “Yeah, hi, I was there last night for the tournament? You remember?”
He pauses for a second, and I’m thinking he forgot something or wanted to trade for a different prize. I don’t know him by sound over the phone, but goodness knows there were several dozen other people, so it could be anyone.
Me: “Yes, I was here for that. How can I help?”
Caller: “Yeah, well… did you know the lady sitting next to me? During round two?”
Me: “Uh… no, I’m not sure I do?”
Caller: “She had a really nice a**!
Me: “Uh…”
Caller: “Like, her a** was REALLY, REALLY nice! Do you know what her name is? I want to look her up! She had a really nice a**!”
Me: “Sir, if you continue on in this manner, I’m going to hang up.”
Caller: “NO! But I was there! And the girl sitting next to me at the tournament during round two! SHE HAD A REALLY NICE A**!”
There’s someone in the background trying to get him to stop, so, as the only woman working in the store, I do the only thing I can think of.
Me: “Okay, sir, I’m hanging up now. Goodbye.”
Coworker: “What was that about?”
Me: “Apparently, a female player last night had a nice a**.”
My male coworker sighs heavily.
Coworker: “…yeah, some men are like that. You did the right thing.”
The gent did not call back.
