And Marty managed to not slap a child.

[marty]

I wish I hadn't gone back to work. This story involves a ten year old. Yes. Ten. It takes our computers a minute or two to process the promotions, for reference.

Me: Okay, that brings you down to X.XX in credit right now--give me one second because with our promotions you'll probably have more.
SC: EXCUSE ME?! The other guy said I had more than that!
Me: ...Yes, let me see with our promotions
SC: I have more than that!
Me: Yes you do. Do you want to look around for something else today?
SC: No, you shoulda gave me my credit!
Me: I did, you can see it on the screen there. You now have XX.XX. Want me to put it on a card for you?

At this point I guess she figured she was done with me and didn't answer. She was staring at me expectantly. But if she wasn't going to answer, I wasn't going to sing and dance. So I stared back. And after five minutes (literally), of the intense staring contest, I won. She was polite after that.

I have scary crazy eyes when I want to. And I kept thinking, if I had ever talked to someone like that when I was her age my mom would have slapped the shit out of me. But her parents did nothing...they seemed kind of resigned.

[Shards]

Twerp's lucky she isn't mine or any of my cousin's kid.

She'd not be so discourteous, or I'd treat her just like they treat you in boot camp when you break a rule. Push-ups, lots of them, with a weight on your back.