Dying To Provide A Good Service

, , , , | Working | April 23, 2018

(I am a cashier at work and am known for being a little silly, especially when a specific coworker is working. This day she is. We are going on, having fun. She’s pretending to order me around like I’m her slave. Exactly what was said before this, I’m not sure, but somehow I hit my elbow on the till.)

Customer #1: “That sounded like it hurt.”

Me: “It did, [Coworker]. I’m hurt! I have to go home.”

Coworker: “Yeah, right. You are not going anywhere; you can stay here until you die.”

Me: “But I am dying. The pain is unbearable. Everything is going black. Tell my family I love them.”

Customer #2: “Before you die, can I get a package of cigarettes? Then we can die together.”

(My coworker and [Customer #1] burst out laughing.)

Me: “Sure.”

(I get her smokes and ring her through. When her receipt starts printing:)

Me: “[Coworker], give her her receipt. I see the light.”

(I sit on my till and lay my head down, pretending to die.)

Customer #2: “Thank you, sweet girl. I will join you soon.”

(She opens up her pack and puts a cigarette in her mouth before she walks out the door.)

Customer #1: “So nice to see people having fun at work. Now, you—” *indicating coworker* “—be nice and let this girl rest in peace.”

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