Old Habits Cry Hard

We’ve got a retirement home across the street, so residents pop in all the time. Most are lovely, and a few are downright adorable. But then there’s her, the one we all hate.

Tonight, she comes in, buys her cigarettes, and leaves without a word. About an hour later, the phone rings. I pick up.

Customer: *Snapping.* “Where are my cigarettes?!”

Me: “Let me check. One moment.”

I ask the cashier who rang her up.

Me: “Do you remember if she left with them?” 

Cashier: “Yeah, she had them in her hand when she walked out.”

I get back on the phone.

Me: “Ma’am, the cashier says you had them when you left.”

Customer: *Angry.* “No, I didn’t! They’re still there, I just know it!”

I pull the camera footage. Clear as day: she walks out with the pack in her hand.

Me: “I’ve checked the video; you walked out with them. Maybe they fell out of your pocket into your car?” 

Customer: *Furious.* “So now you’re calling me OLD?!”

Me: “No, ma’am. I never said that. All I said was maybe they fell in your car.” 

Customer: *Shouting.* “Give me corporate’s number! NOW!”

Then the swearing starts.

Me: *Calmly.* “I’m sorry you think I called you elderly, but those words never left my mouth. Have a good night.” *Click.*

Later, I tell the store manager, who just laughs.

Store Manager: “She’s in her seventies and lives in a retirement home. If that doesn’t make you elderly, I don’t know what does.”