No Manners In Line Is Out Of Line, Part 2

(I am nine years old, and my family has moved to a new area that has a corner store two blocks from my new house. Our town is a bit of a tourist trap, and late one afternoon, I am waiting in line to pay for the items mum needs. A tourist, dressed in costly, dressy clothes rushes through the doors and shoves in front of me.)

Me: “Hey! The line ends back there. It’s rude to cut in!”

Tourist: “Shut up!”

(The tourist then addresses the cashier, a lady who knows me well enough to know that for a kid as shy as I am, trying to stand up for myself is a big thing.)

Tourist: “I need two packs of [cigarette brand], and directions to [ritziest local hotel].”

(The cashier looks at the tourist, silently, saying nothing at all for a long pause.)

Tourist: “Are you deaf or stupid? I want two packs of [cigarette brand] and directions to [hotel]!”

Cashier: “I was just giving you the chance to prove you have any manners at all. Looks like you don’t. This girl was next, and you pushed in. That’s rude.”

Tourist: “I don’t have time for—”

Cashier: “—and I don’t have time to deal with self-obsessed jerks. Get out.”

Tourist: “No, listen! I want two packs of—”

Cashier: “You aren’t getting anything. You have 30 seconds to get out of here before I call the cops.”

Tourist: “Are you serious? You can’t be f****** serious! I want two packs of—”

Cashier: “Get out!”

(The cashier reaches behind her, and grabs the phone from the counter. She starts dialing.)

Tourist: “Oh f*** it! I don’t want to buy anything in this stupid hick town anyway.”

(The tourist flounces towards the door. I speak loudly before she gets to the door.)

Me: “Isn’t it funny how we hicks actually know what good manners are for?”

(The woman turns red and storms out of the store.)