They’re Not Playboying Around
(I am busy putting stuff up in our back-to-school aisle when a nervous older woman sidles up to me.)
Older Woman: “Excuse me… Um… Do you happen to have… Um… a certain magazine? Oh, I’m so embarrassed.”
Me: “We might, ma’am. What’s the magazine?”
Older Woman: “Playboy.”
Me: “Um, no, ma’am, we don’t carry magazines like that here.”
Older Woman: “Well, someone told me that I would recognize one of the girls there in the magazine.”
Me: *blushes* “Okay, ma’am, well I’m not sure what you’d like me to do.”
Older Woman: “You can order it, right?”
Me: “No, it’s not something that we carry.”
Older Woman: “How about the other store in the area?”
Me: “No, our company does not stock that magazine.”
Older Woman: “You’re a horrible person! Where’s your manager?”
(I walk around the corner, put on a different name tag and my reading glasses, and come back.)
Me: “Is there something I can help you with?”
Older Woman: “Yes! Your employee won’t sell me smut!”
Me: *close to tears laughing* “Well, ma’am, he’s right. We don’t carry any smut. Please go somewhere else.”
Older Woman: “I don’t say this to everyone, young man, but f*** you.”
(The customer stormed out. I thought my disguise would be pretty obvious, but she was probably just too mad to care.)
