I… Take… Your… Milkshake!

, , , , , | Right | April 7, 2020

(I’m checking out a customer. She’s nice. I get to her hard lemonade and ask for ID, and she instantly starts up with an elaborate story about her ID being stuck in a totaled car as she gives me a well-worn, stained by who knows what, bad photocopy of an out-of-state ID.)

Me: “This doesn’t count as a legal ID.”

Customer: *after going back into her story about a car crash* “Get me your manager!”

Me: “Okay.”

(I listen to her keep repeating the same story. My manager comes and says the same thing. His manager comes and says the same thing. THAT guy’s manager comes and says the same thing. All the while, this woman is ranting her head off, making the story more and more horrific, and starting to scream.)

Customer: “You don’t understand my situation!” *turns to one of the male managers* “And you’re a potato face! All you want to know is if I’m over 21! I’m 26! I’m a grown-a** woman!”

(At that, a man she was with who brought over a huge stuffed animal and has been half-a**ed trying to back her up says:

Man: “Yeah! And she–” *pointing at me* “–looks like she’s 19!”

Me: *all flirty smiles* “You think so? I love hearing that! I’ll take it!”

(The crazy customer loses her mind again while I pretend to flirt with the guy following her. After she stomps off…)

Guy: “How much is this?”

Me: “$50 before tax.”

Guy: “But it—”

Me: “Don’t even. I’m 34. You and I both know kids move those big stuffed animals around. And you and I both know your friend just screamed the F word in front of tons of families over overpriced, weak drinks.”

Guy: “I’ll take it back.”

Me: “It’s okay. I’m going on my lunch now. I’ll take him with me and put him in the right spot.”

(As I’m signing out for the next cashier to come in, the person behind them walks up.)

Next Customer: “You’re so calm I’m terrified.”

Me: “I do that to people.”

(And I flounced off with a stuffed dog that was half my size.)

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