Molecule Of Mildew On Aisle Six

, , , , | Right | August 17, 2020

I am stocking shelves when a customer comes up to me. I have never seen him before.

Customer: “Where are the [Brand] jeans?”

Me: “Aisle six, sir.”

He heads that way and I resume stocking. Eight minutes later, he storms up to me.

Customer: “THEY DON’T HAVE MY SIZE! YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT!”

Me: “I’m sorry you couldn’t find your size [Brand] jeans, sir. Would you like me to page an associate who works in the clothing department to assist you with finding something suitable?”

Customer: “NO! I HATE THIS STORE! AND YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME YOU DIDN’T HAVE MY SIZE!”

Me: “Sir, I don’t even know what your size is.”

Customer: “YOU SHOULD D*** WELL KNOW! I’M A REGULAR HERE AND YOU ALL SHOULD KNOW MY D*** SIZE!”

Me: *Struggling to remain professional* “Sir, I have never met you before today. I do not know your jeans size.”

Customer: “GO F*** YOURSELF!”

I lose all sense of professionalism. I know I’m not allowed to swear at customers, but I can be… creative when I want to.

Me: “Get out of my face, you rhizomorph. And don’t use foul language; children are present in the store.”

Customer: “THE CHILDREN CAN GO F*** THEMSELVES, TOO!”

Me: “Leave, you molecule of mildew.”

A mother comes up, with two kids in tow. She speaks in the coldest, angriest voice I’ve ever heard.

Mother: “Before I rip your throat out and have my kids piss down it.”

That got his attention; he suddenly realized he was making himself look like a jerk to other customers. He stomped off, muttering under his breath.

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