I Don’t Think Santa Makes Stops At The Jail

One Christmas Eve when I am working retail in a small computer store, a man comes to our door ten minutes after we close.

Man: “I reserved a video card for pickup online and need to pick it up.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but the store closed ten minutes ago and all the point-of-sale systems are going through the end-of-day procedures and cannot be interrupted.”

Man: “I really need to get it; it’s a gift for my son.”

Me: “[Large Retailer] is open for another hour.”

Man: “Okay, can I just get a copy of the invoice to show my son what I’m getting him?”

Me: “I can do that.”

I go into the office to get the invoice and make a copy for him.

When I open the door to give it to the man, he yanks the door open out of my hand and charges me, knocking me down.

Man: “Okay, now put the tray from both registers on the counter and lie down on the floor behind it!”

I did exactly what he asked, and he took both tills and took off, forgetting that I had the original invoice with his name, address, and phone number.

I bet that Christmas sucked for both him and his son.