In Receipt Of A Great Last Day
It’s the evening of my very last shift ever. I’ve just finished ringing up a customer’s shopping. I’m mere seconds away from asking “Would you like your receipt?”, but she jumps in:
Customer: “You’re required by law to give a receipt!”
Me: “Yes, madam, I was literally about to ask if you’d like one.”
Customer: “That’s a stupid question! You’re required by law to give me one, so why would you ask?!”
Me: “Actually, I’m only required to offer one.
Customer: “I know my rights. You HAVE to give me one. It’s the law.”
In the time it’s taken her to have this tantrum, I’ve printed out the receipt, and I’m handing it out to her.
Customer: “Hmph! Good. You people need to learn what’s required in this job!”
Me: “Actually, madam, what I’m required to give is zero f***s.”
The expected happened next. Clutched pearls, manager called, slap on wrist, finished my shift, went to my leaving party, a good time was had by all…
CORRECTION: Two dialogue lines that were merged have been separated.
