You Met The Scissor Sisters

, , , | Right | January 22, 2021

It’s our truck day, which is usually interesting, and the coworker who usually covers fabric has gone on lunch. I answer a customer service page at the fabric desk where two ladies have fabric already measured out. I greet them cheerfully and ask what I can help them with.

Customer: “I’ve got a hundred inches. I just need a scissor.”

There’s a pair of scissors on the opposite side of the desk from her, but she’s made no move to come get it.

Me: “Oh, I actually have to cut the fabric for you.”

I stay where I am, because that’s how I typically cut fabric: on the opposite side of the desk from the customer.

Customer: “Well, can’t you just come on this side?”

I ignore that and choose to reach for her fabric, which is a plaid-like one that I’ll have to cut in a particular way. I re-measure it, unfolding it in the process because my brain isn’t processing the math how it should be today, and the lady makes another annoyed comment that I ignore for the moment.

Her friend consults her about the amount of fabric they need for their projects. The customer slides over the other bolt she wants cut after she figures the measurements and then says:

Customer: “I guess I’ll let you re-measure it since I don’t know what I’m doing.”

That irks me, but I reply as politely as possible.

Me: “It’s not that I doubt that you know what you’re doing; I just prefer to measure and cut the way I’ve been taught. We’re kind of finicky about how we cut these patterns. I’d rather give you more fabric than you need than not enough.”

Sure enough, I re-measured and it was a bit more than they needed, but I’d rather be over than under. The rest of my interaction with them went okay, but I was annoyed by the time I finished and went to vent to a coworker.

The first woman had apparently worked at another fabric store years ago. I’m pretty sure ANY fabric store has to have an employee cut fabric for the customer, which she should have known. Why she thought I’d give her my scissor, I’ll never know. Truck days seem to bring out the weird in people.

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