Do You, Though? It’s Unclear.
There’s a nursery near me where I often shop for plants and gardening supplies. It’s located on my commute home from work, they have a great selection, and their prices are competitive with other nurseries in the area. However, one of my biggest pet peeves when shopping at this particular nursery is that, for some reason, other customers there often mistake me for a worker, even though my work uniform is nowhere near the same as theirs. Usually, when I tell them I do not work there, they leave me alone. Sometimes, they’ll pester me a little more, but they all eventually get the picture.
All of them, except for ONE.
One day, I’m shopping for annuals. As I’m looking around, a lady looks in my direction and makes eye contact with me. Almost immediately, I get a bad feeling.
Lady: “Excuse me?”
Yeah, here we go.
Lady: “Sir? Do you—”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Lady: “Excuse me?!”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Lady: “How rude of you! You should—”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Lady: “Listen, you don’t talk to—”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Lady: “How dare you?! I’ll—”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Lady: “GET ME YOUR MANAGER!”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Lady: “NOW!”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Lady: “FINE! I’ll get them myself!”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
She storms off, and I go back to browsing. A few moments later, she comes back with a manager in tow.
Lady: “That’s him! That’s the guy who wouldn’t help me!”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Manager: “Listen. When a—”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Manager: “No. You don’t speak to customers—”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Manager: “DON’T YOU GET SMART WITH ME!”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Manager: “SHUT UP! One more word and you’re—”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Manager: “That’s it, you’re done. Go clean out your locker.”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Manager: “Well, you’re fired, so of course not! Clean out your locker.”
Me: “I don’t work here.”
Manager: “Do it now, or I’m calling the police.”
No more games.
Me: “Let me spell it out for you: I. DO. NOT. WORK. HERE. I have never worked here. I am just a customer. The lady who brought you over here mistook me for a worker, when my uniform isn’t even remotely close to yours. I was just minding my own business, shopping for annuals. Had that lady gotten the picture the FIRST time that I said that I didn’t work here, I wouldn’t be talking about it right now. AND since you guys apparently didn’t get it the first sixteen times I’ve said it, I will say it once more: I. DO. NOT. WORK. HERE.”
Manager: *Pauses* “Whatever. You’re no longer welcome here. Now leave.”
I walked away from my cart, which had nearly $400 worth of annuals in it, and left. I got my annuals at a different nursery that was closer to home but out of the way of my commute.
Later, I called the first nursery and spoke to the owner, explaining what happened. He apologized and assured me that I wasn’t in any trouble, and that I was still welcome to shop there as that particular manager had no authority to ban me. Unfortunately, that experience left a very bitter taste in my mouth, and I’ve only been back a few times since then. I never saw that manager there again, though — and I later learned that the incident got her fired as it wasn’t the first time she screamed at a customer.
Was this the best way I could have handled the situation? Almost certainly not. But if you’re going to keep pestering me after I tell you once that I do not work there, then I’ll have no problem telling you over and over until you get the picture. If it means I have to tell you seventeen times or more, then so be it.
