Justice Is Music To My Ears

(I have been employed at this store for maybe two weeks and haven’t learned the antiquated computer system for instrument rentals yet. A customer comes in and asks for a used instrument to rent monthly. I go down into the catacombs, pick out the best quality one [as I was trained to do] and come back up after about five minutes. I input her stuff into the computer, and can’t get it to print correctly.)

Customer: “I’m getting really tired of waiting.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, this is my first time doing a monthly contract and I’m not sure—”

Customer: “I would have loved to have been there for your job interview. What, are you related to someone?”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “I mean seriously, are you working this job to get through DeVry? Just print the d*** contract.”

Me: “I’m trying to, ma’am, but—”

Customer: “It took you so long to get back up from the basement because you got lost, right?”

(She continues this tirade for the next five minutes as I keep trying – and failing – to print her contract correctly. Finally, my boss walks out of his office.)

Boss: “Ma’am, we won’t be renting you this instrument today. You should go.”

Customer: “Excuse me?”

Boss: “Believe it or not, [My Name] is worth more than a clarinet, and based on how you’ve treated him, I can only imagine the horrible stuff you’d put a clarinet through. You should go.”

Customer: “Well, if this MORON actually had two brain cells—”

Boss: “This moron has read more books than you have sentences. Please leave.”

Customer: “Fine, I’ll go, but I’m going to tell all my friends not to come here.”

Boss: “The way you treat people? You don’t have any friends. Goodbye, and don’t come back.”

(She storms out, as I stand flabbergasted.)

Boss: “I’d rather close than serve customers like that.”

(Best. Boss. EVER.)