A new furniture store opens up in town, and my boyfriend and I decide to go check it out. We just want to browse and compare prices, not buy anything. Their website has completely different furniture; if it weren’t for that, I would much rather not have to deal with this sales lady on this day.
Sales Lady: “Hello. Welcome to our store! Is there anything you’re looking for?”
Me: “Oh, no, thank you. We’re just browsing.”
Sales Lady: “Okay, let me know if you have any questions or need any help.”
Me: “Thank you.”
Literally three minutes later…
Sales Lady: “Looking for something specific? We have sets on sale for $800.”
Me: “No, thank you, just browsing.”
Five minutes later, across the store…
Sales Lady: “What’s your income? What’s your spending limit so I can point you in the right direction?”
Me: “We’re just looking right now. We just moved and need to save a little.”
I was irritated. She was trying to make a sale; it was more than obvious. After a few more minutes, she came around again asking what we were looking for. We told her nothing and left. I looked online to see if the company works on commission. They don’t. The lady also has a ton of complaints on Yelp and Google for harassing them too much.
(I walk into the thrift store where two older ladies are working and there’s an old man who just hangs out all day. They are talking very loudly about a very mild kerfuffle that got blown way out of proportion that happened at a local high school involving pro-[American Politician] posters. They have apparently not noticed or cared that anyone has walked in.)
Lady #1: “–and so this little [expletive] kept tearing down the posters, and the school won’t do a thing! It’s disrespectful.”
Lady #2: “They’re always like that, and the teachers are always protecting those types. Why, my granddaughter got in trouble for telling one of those Hispanic boys to stop insulting the teacher. And walking around with Brown Pride shirts!”
(I am starting to get uncomfortable, as well as mentally calling bull on her claim given the area’s demographic makeup. Then, they go back to complaining about the poster incident when the old man pipes up.)
Man: “You know, that boy should be hung by the neck for showing such disrespect!”
(The ladies made noises of agreement — and I immediately left and haven’t been back since.)
Me: “All right, sir, you get one free refill on the large popcorn; just bring up this receipt with the bag.”
(Thirty minutes later, the customer comes up to the counter with the receipt but no bag.)
Customer: “I’d like my other popcorn, please.”
Me: “Sir, I need the bag for the refill.”
Customer: *pissed off* “Well, fine, just charge me for a new one, I guess.”
Me: *proceeds to charge him*
Customer: “And when I bring you the first bag, I get a refund for this one, right?”
Me: “I can’t do that, sir; you can’t have two bags of popcorn and only pay for one.”
Customer: “WELL, FINE! HOW ABOUT I DON’T F****** COME HERE ANYMORE?!”
(The customer storms off into his theater.)
Me: “Please don’t.”
(I was working at a store, pushing in carts from the corral. I had gone back outside for my second set of carts, when an SUV whips around the corner and into the fire lane. The driver stops the car, gets out, and glares at me.)
Me: “Ma’am, you can’t park there. It’s a fire hazard. Please move your car immediately.”
Lady: “MANAGER. NOW.”
(I go get my supervisor.)
Manager: “What seems to be the-”
Lady: “YOUR EMPLOYEE HERE WAS LEAVING DURING SHIFT! I DEMAND THAT YOU FIRE HIM!”
Me: “Oh, I see. I was getting carts at the corrals.”
Lady: “BULLS**T YOU LYING LITTLE F****T! I’LL BET YOU WERE SNEAKING OFF TO SEE YOUR BOYFRIEND! I’LL KILL YOU FOR BEING A H***SPAWN! COME HERE!”
(The woman literally lunges at me, attempting to grab me. I was taught self-defense from my father, who was a prison guard for several years, as well as the army. I end up interception the woman’s arm and pinning her to the ground.)
Lady: “HOW DARE YOU! GET YOUR FILTHY GAY SELF OFF OF ME! I DON’T WANT THE AIDS YOU HARBOR!”
Manager: “Ma’am, I’m going to make him let you go. If you don’t leave in 10 seconds after that, I’ll see to it that he kicks you across the parking lot.”
(The woman continued to scream for several seconds, then got in her car and sped away.)
Me: “Can I have my break?”
Manager: “Take an extra 15 minutes.”
(My father and I are shopping at a well-known supermarket the week of Thanksgiving, and on our way out, Dad is looking for a place to park one of the electric carts he now uses regularly. We end up near one of the crane games with the plushies and the company employee is filling it up. It’s my first time seeing the machine open.)
Me: “Oh, look! I always wondered how they filled those up!”
Employee: “Well, there you have it.”
Me: “That’s very cool! Oh, look, Dad! It’s a candy corn!”
(And indeed it is a plush candy corn, with cat ears and tail, arms and legs, and a smiley face on it. The employee takes it out and hands it to me, so I show my father. I try to hand it back, but she tells me to keep it.)
Employee: “It’s left over from Halloween. We’re getting rid of it anyway.”
Me: “Thank you very much!”
(I’ve never been good at the crane games, so getting that toy, cheap as it may be, was a real treat for me and made my whole day. Many thanks to that kind employee!)
