I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 14

(My store is right beside a dollar store, so we tend to pop in to buy snacks and drinks on down times. Our shirts are pale blue and we wear tan aprons over them, while the dollar store workers wear black shirts with yellow name-tags, so it’d be very hard to confuse our workers for theirs. It’s been a strenuous day, so I offer to get everyone sodas and rush next door. My arms are full by the time I get to the register.)

Old Lady: *grabs my arm hard and jerks me* “Girl! Girl, I need you to help me! You see that box of ornaments?”

Me: *spilling the bottles of soda on my feet and pants* “Ow! Ma’am, don’t do that! That’s painful. Besides, I can’t help you. I’m on break from next door, so I can’t help you.”

Old Lady: “You can have your break later. I need you to get me that box of Christmas decorations off the top shelf. Hurry your butt up. I’m late enough as it is.”

Me: *pointing to my shirt* “I don’t work here, ma’am. I work next door. I couldn’t help you even if I wanted.”

Old Lady: “Don’t you sass me. I said for you to do your job and get me that box of decorations. Are all the kids nowadays lazy? Hurry up before I call your manager up here.”

Me: “I. Do. Not. Work. Here.”

Old Lady: *smacks me hard on the arm* “Did I ask you to say something? I said get me that box right now before I get your manager over here! Doing your job doesn’t require talking.”

Me: “Listen, lady! I do not work here. You just made me drop seven bottles of soda on my feet, which are already aching from helping idiots like you who don’t have the decency to even listen when they’re being told something. I do not work here. If you want some help, get an employee here, and leave me alone!”

Old Lady: *swats at me harder* “As soon as I find your manager, you’re going to be out of a job!”

(She goes off ranting while I pick up the sodas, a couple having popped open. A few minutes later a manager approaches me.)

Manager: “Um, apparently, I’m supposed to fire you. How about this instead? You and the folks next door get a round of free sodas on us and a hearty apology that my employee at the register didn’t set her straight. We told her we won’t be serving her if she’s going to strike the customers.”

Me: “Works for me. I hope she comes next door so I can refuse her any service there, too.”