Sadly They Don’t Need A Card To Feel Privileged

(It’s a few days past Christmas. I work in retail, and it’s been an exhausting day of processing returns and dumb questions. I have a return to make at the local big box store after work. When I get in line at customer service, the lady in front of me is being belligerent about returning some washcloths she claims to have gotten as a Christmas gift.)

Customer: “Why are they only ringing up for 50 cents?! They were three dollars a piece!”

Employee: “These are clearance items, and since you don’t have a receipt, I can only refund the item’s current price.”

(This goes on for a few minutes more, with the lady who apparently doesn’t know what a receipt is for becoming more and more abusive. I’ve been dealing with this kind of nonsense all week and it dawns on me that I don’t work here.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am, did you show her your card?”

Customer: “What card?!”

Me: “‘Your special privileges card. The one that says the rules don’t apply to you.”

(The customer turned a lovely shade of purple and started unleashing a legendary stream of invective at me. The clerks, who moments before were on the verge of tears, were trying their best not to laugh. I probably didn’t make anything easier for the employees, but I’ll be d***ed if it didn’t feel good to do that.)