I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 33
(I work at a sports shop, and have gone straight from there to an electronics shop, so I can help my dad find the cable he needs. My uniform is very distinct, a bright red polo — with the shop’s name in very big letters on the back — and navy joggers, so as to look sporty. The uniform in the electronics shop is a black dress shirt and dress trousers, so as to look professional. I am currently facing a wall, so I have my back to everyone in the shop. I’m quite irritable due to having a bad shift and having no sleep, and it must be noted I am weird with people touching me depending on how much I know them — strangers often get shouted at and hurt. My dad very rarely intervenes because he know I can handle myself, but will do something if he sees it’s getting out of control. We’re both big swearers.)
Me: “Hey, Dad, pass me that—”
Customer #1: “Excuse me. Can you help me?”
Me: *ignoring them, as I don’t think they’re talking to me* “Pass us that one; I can’t see it from here.”
Customer #1: *taps my shoulder* “EXCUSE ME!”
Me: *CLEARLY irritated by being touched* “What? I don’t work here.”
Customer #1: “I want that TV.”
Me: “Good for you.”
(I turn back around to help my dad, but the customer grabs my shoulder, so I push away from him a little.)
Me: “What the f*** are you playing at? Touch me again and—”
Customer #1: “I want that TV; it’s your job to get it for me. I want to speak to your manager.”
Me: “Well, go into f****** town and talk to her, then.”
Customer #1: “GO GET HER FOR ME!”
Dad: “Listen, mate, she doesn’t work here; she’s helping me because she’s my f****** daughter. Don’t talk to her like that.”
Customer #1: “I’m a paying customer. I demand to speak to your manager.”
Me: “Then go into town and speak to her. I don’t work here; she doesn’t work here. Nobody I work with works here, because I work at [Shop]. Leave me alone before I call the police for harassment and assault.”
Customer #1: “FINE! I’ll find your manager.”
(We don’t see him again. Three minutes later, my back is still facing the shop.)
Customer #2: “Excuse me, miss.”
Me: “Not again.” *turns around*
Customer #2: “Oh! You don’t work here; I’m so sorry.”
Me: “Oh, thank f***.”
Related:
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 32
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 31
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 30
