Lunch Lady Is No Lady

(I am helping a customer who, with her six-year-old son, pick out stain for her deck. I am the only person in the paint department. Another customer comes up to my desk. I call for backup.)

Me: *to Customer #2* “It should only be a few minutes wait.”

(After about 30 more seconds, Customer #2 storms down the aisle to where I am still working with Customer #1.)

Customer #2: *to Customer #1* “This isn’t personal shopper day! Other people need help; you need to get your s*** and leave!” *to me* “Get your a** on the phone and get someone over here to serve me, b****!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, he was with another customer. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

Customer #2: *goes back to the desk to wait* “B****!”

Me: *to Customer #1* “I’m sorry about that—”

Customer #1’s Young Son: “It’s okay lady! She is my lunch lady, and she is mean to EVERYONE! Don’t listen to her; you’re doing great helping mommy!”