Rage Mop When They Just Won’t Rage Quit

, , , , , | Right | August 13, 2017

(I ran a handful of errands before my opening shift at the store. Because I’ve been hustling due to the trains being delayed and I’m carrying four heavy bags AND it’s over 95 degrees out, I am sweaty, red, and frustrated when I arrive. I’ve arrived 45 minutes before we open because I want to mop after an especially busy and dirty weekend. Our store has a more casual policy on customer service — essentially, be polite but don’t suffer fools. I rarely take advantage of this as 20 years of service industry jobs have brainwashed standards into me, but today I am running on no sleep and possible heat exhaustion. A lady is standing outside the gated store when I arrive.)

Lady: “Oh, good, you’re finally here.”

Me: “I beg your pardon?”

Lady: “Are you opening? You’re late!”

Me: “I am opening, ma’am, but the store doesn’t open until 11. You’ve got 45 minutes left.”

Lady: “That’s wrong.”

Me: ”It isn’t. It’s on the sign right here.” *I point*

Lady: “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I need a card.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not going to let you in 45 minutes before open, certainly not for a $4 card. There’s a CVS up the street and about 11 stationery stores within a 10 block radius. I’m here early because the store needs to be cleaned and this is the ONLY time I can fit it in around my three jobs. Please come back at 11.”

(She huffs and starts to walk off so I go about raising the gate and wrestling the ancient oak door open. Suddenly I feel a shove from behind me, and this lady is trying to shove her way into the store past me!)

Me: *screaming with all of my rage from the morning* “WHAT THE F**K ARE YOU DOING?! GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU LUNATIC!”

(She stops, looking shocked. I am enraged, so I simply hurl my bags through the door, shoulder it closed, and lock it in her face. We stare at each other through the glass for a second, then I turn away and start my tasks while taking deep breaths. The phone rings several times but I can see her pressed against the door window with her cell to her ear so I ignore it. My cell phone rings then and I see it’s my boss, who opens the main store in another neighborhood an hour earlier than this one.)

Me: “Hi, [Boss].”

Boss: “Hey… how’s the mopping going?”

Me: “Just getting started. Had some difficulty getting into the store this morning.”

Boss: “Yeah, uh, a lady called and says you slapped her, kicked her, and called her a b**** this morning?”

Me: “…no.”

Boss: “What happened?”

Me: “She was here when I got here, ignored me when I asked her to come back after open, and then shoved me to try and force her way inside. I screamed at her because she startled me and I was hot and tired, and then I locked the door in her face. She’s outside right now staring at me through the window.”

Boss: “Whoah. That’s nuts. If she is still there at open, call the police. Are you okay?”

Me: “Yeah. Just angry.”

Boss: “Yeah, if she comes in after you open refuse her service. Tell her to leave. If you want I can come there for support.”

Me: “Nah, I can handle that. I’m calmer now, after rage-mopping.”

Boss: ”Okay. Hang in there!”

(The lady finally left about 10 minutes before opening. Apparently she had called my boss again and he told her to leave or he’d call the police. Then she called again and screamed at him and he hung up on her. She left eight voice messages on our machine.)

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