Customers You Wish You Could Trim Right Out Of Your Life

While I’m buying a new beard trimmer, I get asked by another shopper whether I know something about them, so I try to inform him to the best of my abilities. While I’m doing so, another shopper stops behind us and starts clearing her throat repeatedly, but since we’re not blocking anything, I don’t think too much about it for the time being.

Eventually, the guy I’m talking to finds a trimmer he likes, we chat a bit, I take one that I like, and I’m about to be on my way.

Shopper: “Finally! I need a new mixer with…”

She lists a couple of features that I probably couldn’t even translate to English if I cared enough to memorize what she wanted.

Me: “You talking to me?”

Shopper: “Of course I am talking to you! You took your sweet time with that guy, and now it’s my turn!”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t work here.”

Shopper: “Then what was that, huh? Don’t gimme that ‘I don’t work here’! You just sold that beard thing to that guy!”

Me: “He asked me something about a trimmer and I told him what I know. I don’t know jack about kitchen appliances.”

Thinking this is it, I turn to leave, only to have my shirt grabbed from behind.

Shopper: “Don’t you dare! I waited half an hour for you, and now you will help me!”

Me: “Lady! Let go! What the h***?”

Since we’re far from quiet anymore, we’ve drawn the attention of someone actually working here, easily identified as such by wearing the store uniform with the store name in bold letters on it, his personal name tag, and all the other tidbits that indicate that he does, indeed, work here.

Employee: “Excuse me? What seems to be the problem?”

Shopper: “This deadbeat here isn’t doing his job! I only had a very simple question, and he refuses to answer me!”

He looks between her and me.

Employee: “Ma’am? He doesn’t work here.”

Shopper: “Like h*** he doesn’t! He just helped another guy find something. I was watching it the whole time, and he didn’t even have the decency to acknowledge that I was there! All I have is a very simple question, but he was just chatting with this guy, and not once did he even turn to look at me! And they were chatting about private things. Just chitchat! Private chitchat! He was chatting with his friend, on the clock instead of helping a waiting customer like he should!”

Employee: “Be it as it may, ma’am, he’s—”

Shopper: “Get me a manager. I want this person fired!”

Employee: “I am the manager of this section, but ma’am—”

Shopper: “Then fire him!”

Employee: “But ma’am—”

Me: “Dude, don’t you see that there’s only one way out?”

The employee turns to me, and for a moment the shopper is quiet, too.

Me: “Fire me.”

Employee: “But… you don’t work here.”

Me: “You know and I know, but do you want to waste more time hoping that she eventually gets it?”

Employee: “Uh… okay… You’re fired.”

Me: “Okay.” *To her* “Satisfied?”

The employee and I look expectantly at the woman, who looks at me with her mouth open for a moment before bursting out:

Shopper: “No! How can you be so callous?! You millennials and your crappy work ethics. How can you so simply brush aside losing your job in this economy?! Do you think you’ll find another one with this attitude?”

I’m over forty and looking it.

Me: *Sigh* “Fine…”

I put down my trimmer and tumble back against the nearest wall, raising my arm theatrically to the forehead.

Me: “Woe is me! How should I explain it to my wife?! What can I tell my kids?! I was fired from a minimum-wage job where I had the joy of helping idiots find rubbish they don’t need! Now I have to return to the cruel world of computer networks! Please, please have mercy!”

I sink to my knees with a few fake sobs, and then I let my arm sink from my face and look up at the woman.

Me: “Better?”

She stares at me for a long time, and then she grumbles and stomps off toward the exit.

Me: *To the employee* “I have no idea what they pay you to deal with crap like this, but no matter how much, it ain’t remotely enough.”