Smells Like Trouble

(As I’m getting to the end of my evening shift, I check out this lady on her phone. It goes fairly well — she’s communicating with me and such — and then a jerk customer comes in and talks about how good she smells.)

Creepy Customer: “Hey, ma’am, you smell so amazing! I could smell you all over the store, and here you are!”

Lady: *talking to the person on the phone* “This guy here is smelling me.”

(I can’t hear the person on the other end, but I’m sure they ask where she is. I’m assuming it’s her husband.)

Lady: “I’m checking out at the store.”

Creepy Customer: “Hey, lady, some people would take that as a compliment!” *puts his arms around her*

Lady: *pushes him away, and has this look on her face while she pays and leaves*

Me: *starts checking out said creep, not saying one word as I am watching what he does*

Creepy Customer: *starts shouting his number*

Me: *holding a heavy case of beer* “Please, one sec.”

Creepy Customer: *still saying the number over and over*

Me: *starts bagging*

Creepy Customer: *grabs my arm* “Hey, I like your watch! Give me your watch. Haha.”

Me: *jerks back fast, giving him a look*

Creepy Customer: *gets annoyed and has his friend pay*

Me: *asks another cashier to get a manager and fast*

(I had to stay late so I could inform the manager and report the creepy jerk. The manager took a look at the cameras to know what the creep looked like so he could tell the other managers. No, I don’t think the creepy jerk was drunk. The only thing I could smell was my lotion, and that’s probably what he could smell.)