Whatever He’s Looking For, It’s Not Plastic Cups

(I have two main tasks at my job: sorting stock on the shelves and directing customers to where they can find certain items. The story begins when an elderly male customer in a black coat walks up. The smell of… something permeates the air, apparently wafting out of the pipe he’s holding in his left hand. Add to that his slurred speech, and I think this man is abusing… something.)

Customer: “S’cuse me, but where can I find plastic cups?”

(He’s standing right next to the plastic cups, with me on his other side. Also, note that I’ve dealt with customers who’ve not noticed items right under their noses before.)

Me: “Right next to you, sir. We have all sorts of colors along the—”

Customer: “Nah, nah, nah, plastic cups. Like, ones you can drink out of.”

(With this, I assume he means a clear plastic cup, of which we have plenty on an adjacent shelf.)

Me: “Perhaps you mean these, then?”

(I pick up one of the clear cups to show him.)

Customer: “Nah, nah, plastic cups.”

Me: “Errm… sir, these are plastic cups…”

Customer: “No, no, no, plastic cups.”

(At this point, I’ve become both confused and a little creeped out. I do my best to keep composed, though.)

Me: “Sir, these are indeed plastic cups. Two different kinds of plastic, but plastic, nonetheless. We also have styrofoam cups in the back, if you’d prefer those.”

Customer: “Nah, nah, nah, I want plastic cups.”

(Having run out of any other options, I ask him to follow me to the back where the styrofoam cups are. At this point, I have deduced that he is either mentally handicapped — no offense to that crowd, obviously — or, in the more likely case, high as a kite. However, I can’t let him hold me up on my actual job, so…)

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, sir. It would seem we don’t carry what you’re looking for.”

Customer: “Then how much for this white bread?”

(The customer picks up a loaf of white bread to show me.)

Me: “Same as everything else in the store, sir: one dollar each.”

(The customer thanked me, headed to the checkout satisfied, and left me to return to my tasks while rubbing my head in sheer bewilderment.)