To Get The Purse, One Must Overcome A Purse

(A nice elderly lady is paying by check, when her back suddenly cramps and she has to grab hold of the counter.)

Me: “Ma’am, are you okay? Do you want me to grab a chair or something?”

Customer: “No, no, it’s this stupid back of mine. It’s been going out for years. Let me finish this check and get out to the car.” *finishes writing check*

Me: “I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. I’ll hurry this along so you can get out of here. May I see your driver’s license?”

Customer: “My what?”

Me: “Your driver’s license. I need it to key in for the check.”

(It’s how our store confirms the person doesn’t have hot checks out on them.)

Customer: “Oh, no; it’s outside in my car.”

Me: “Is it far? I can help you out there. Do you want me to get the purse for you?”

Customer: “I’m parked right outside. Would you be a dear and grab it? The purse is right there in the seat.”

Me: “I most certainly will!”

(I run outside, click the button, and reach in. About that time, someone screams at me and I get hit in the back by a fat purse. It hurts a lot, so I scream and fall down in return, only to get hit in the head.)

Stranger: “You’re stealing someone’s stuff! You’d better put that back right now!”

(She is still hitting me as she says this.)

Me: “Ow! Ma’am! Please stop! I’m getting this for the lady inside!”

Stranger: “HELP! SOMEONE! CALL POLICE!”

(She hits me again as I go running back in the store with the customer’s purse. My nose is bleeding, my glasses are broken, and I’m in tears.)

Customer: “Oh, my God! What happened to you?”

Me: “Someone was protecting your stuff for you.”

(I went on break after that so I could clean up. No cops came by, luckily.)