Actually, I lied. It's pretty much every day here. But today was extra-special - there was a wonderful, exotic variety of SCs on display today.
The Rude Entitled Veteran Guy: I've seen this dude in a couple times before, he usually comes around in the mornings. He's weird. WEIRD. He's got this big, ugly, orange truck, and he walks around in a dirty white undershirt, too-short shorts ( ) and this, like...tiger-striped bandana. Or something. I try not to look. He also has a prosthetic leg, a very expensive-looking one. He walks normally, but apparently believes this leg makes him deserving of all sorts of special considerations, and milks it for all it's worth.
So, I'm pushing carts, and REVG walks up, and says to me, and I quote:
"Get me a cart. You're gonna work for your money today."
Ass. But I've heard worse. So I get him a cart. Then later, when I'm inside bagging, he comes to my line. Joy of joys. I know I'm in for it. Of course, he asks for service out (presumably because I'm young and female) and of course, I'm the only one available to go. So I bring the cart out to his Big Ugly Truck (it must be capitalised, it is just that ugly) and he spends the entire time trying to flirt with me. He didn't even have me load most of the stuff, just did it himself while he was busy flirting. He was also walking well behind me the entire time I was pushing the cart. I can guess where those old, shrivelled eyes of his were pointed.
Russian Melon Lady: This one wasn't as horrid as the last, it was just this snotty rich bitch with a very thick Russian accent, who had a very particular taste in melons.
I get called over to the express lane for about the third time that hour, and RML wants another melon to go with the one she's got. She says, "I want another one. But it has to be more yellow than this one. Very yellow."
So I'm like "sure, no problem," and I walk off to get the melon.
The melons are beige. Pure freaking beige. All of them.
So I grab the yellowest of the beige melons, which is not very yellow at all, and bring it back to RML.
RML: Oh, thank - No, no, this is not yellow. I want a yellow one.
Me: That's the yellowest one we have.
RML: No, I want another one. Go find me another one.
Me: I looked. That's the best -
(she is, at this point, already walking toward the produce section to get one herself)
Me: That's the best one I could find.
RML: (stops, turns around) That's it? Oh, okay. (Goes off on her merry way)
Uh-huh.
Buried Treasure: Long story short, some airhead with no regard for the health of others left a dirty diaper and some nasty food bits underneath a carefully arranged pile of envelopes and papers at the photo printout booth. Which is in the middle of a heavily trafficked aisle.
Me, to co-worker: What the hell is this? (pointing to pile)
CW: Dunno. (prods pile with foot)
Me: (pulling papers off pile) ...Oh, no way. You have got to be f*cking kidding me.
CW: (laughs, walks off, leaves me to clean up)
They Have It At (Other Store)...In Bins: This old lady came up to the checkstand I was on, asking for a very, very specific kind of obscure health food. She kept insisting that (other store) had it. She mentioned this at least 10 times. Not exaggerating. Now, my store has one health food aisle, so I said, "If we have it, it's on 1."
She drags me along on this trip down to aisle 1. After a minute or two of me scanning the shelves, and her repeating the request over and over, she finally says, "(Other store) has it in bins. It's not going to be in a box or a package. It's a big bin. Do you have (repeats request again) in bins? (Other store) has it. In big bins. It's (repeats request YET again)."
No. No, lady, we do not have it in bins. Do you see any bins? No. You do not see any bins, because we do not have any bins.
"Oh, you don't have any bins. Well, I guess you don't have it then. (Other store) has it in bins. But I guess you don't have it. Because I don't see any bins."
No. We don't. Go away. In fact, why don't you go to (other store). Because it's right down the street. And as you said, they have it. In bins.
The Screamer: There just had to be a grand finale. This one happened a little while after I clocked out, when I was standing in line to buy some junk food before I went home.
This lady comes in to use our store phone. Apparently her phone died. We learn this later. She is a very loud person, and consequently, the entire front end becomes privy to her very vivid conversation. It went something like this, but it was far longer in reality...
"Hi, Frank...Yes, I'm at the store, I'm using their phone, my phone died...No, my phone really died...Yes, it died! I forgot to charge it, and it died!...No, I'm NOT full of shit!...No! NO, FRANK! I AM NOT FULL OF SHIT! I AM NOT FULL OF SHIT!...NO, FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU, FRANK! I AM NOT FULL OF SHIT!!...NO, I'm not! It died!...(and on, and on, and on...)"
Of course, the entire front end was wide-eyed and busting up. The two people she was with looked absolutely mortified. It was even funnier with the fact that the store was very crowded at the time. And bitchy voices carry.
Just another day at the retail circus, right?
The Rude Entitled Veteran Guy: I've seen this dude in a couple times before, he usually comes around in the mornings. He's weird. WEIRD. He's got this big, ugly, orange truck, and he walks around in a dirty white undershirt, too-short shorts ( ) and this, like...tiger-striped bandana. Or something. I try not to look. He also has a prosthetic leg, a very expensive-looking one. He walks normally, but apparently believes this leg makes him deserving of all sorts of special considerations, and milks it for all it's worth.
So, I'm pushing carts, and REVG walks up, and says to me, and I quote:
"Get me a cart. You're gonna work for your money today."
Ass. But I've heard worse. So I get him a cart. Then later, when I'm inside bagging, he comes to my line. Joy of joys. I know I'm in for it. Of course, he asks for service out (presumably because I'm young and female) and of course, I'm the only one available to go. So I bring the cart out to his Big Ugly Truck (it must be capitalised, it is just that ugly) and he spends the entire time trying to flirt with me. He didn't even have me load most of the stuff, just did it himself while he was busy flirting. He was also walking well behind me the entire time I was pushing the cart. I can guess where those old, shrivelled eyes of his were pointed.
Russian Melon Lady: This one wasn't as horrid as the last, it was just this snotty rich bitch with a very thick Russian accent, who had a very particular taste in melons.
I get called over to the express lane for about the third time that hour, and RML wants another melon to go with the one she's got. She says, "I want another one. But it has to be more yellow than this one. Very yellow."
So I'm like "sure, no problem," and I walk off to get the melon.
The melons are beige. Pure freaking beige. All of them.
So I grab the yellowest of the beige melons, which is not very yellow at all, and bring it back to RML.
RML: Oh, thank - No, no, this is not yellow. I want a yellow one.
Me: That's the yellowest one we have.
RML: No, I want another one. Go find me another one.
Me: I looked. That's the best -
(she is, at this point, already walking toward the produce section to get one herself)
Me: That's the best one I could find.
RML: (stops, turns around) That's it? Oh, okay. (Goes off on her merry way)
Uh-huh.
Buried Treasure: Long story short, some airhead with no regard for the health of others left a dirty diaper and some nasty food bits underneath a carefully arranged pile of envelopes and papers at the photo printout booth. Which is in the middle of a heavily trafficked aisle.
Me, to co-worker: What the hell is this? (pointing to pile)
CW: Dunno. (prods pile with foot)
Me: (pulling papers off pile) ...Oh, no way. You have got to be f*cking kidding me.
CW: (laughs, walks off, leaves me to clean up)
They Have It At (Other Store)...In Bins: This old lady came up to the checkstand I was on, asking for a very, very specific kind of obscure health food. She kept insisting that (other store) had it. She mentioned this at least 10 times. Not exaggerating. Now, my store has one health food aisle, so I said, "If we have it, it's on 1."
She drags me along on this trip down to aisle 1. After a minute or two of me scanning the shelves, and her repeating the request over and over, she finally says, "(Other store) has it in bins. It's not going to be in a box or a package. It's a big bin. Do you have (repeats request again) in bins? (Other store) has it. In big bins. It's (repeats request YET again)."
No. No, lady, we do not have it in bins. Do you see any bins? No. You do not see any bins, because we do not have any bins.
"Oh, you don't have any bins. Well, I guess you don't have it then. (Other store) has it in bins. But I guess you don't have it. Because I don't see any bins."
No. We don't. Go away. In fact, why don't you go to (other store). Because it's right down the street. And as you said, they have it. In bins.
The Screamer: There just had to be a grand finale. This one happened a little while after I clocked out, when I was standing in line to buy some junk food before I went home.
This lady comes in to use our store phone. Apparently her phone died. We learn this later. She is a very loud person, and consequently, the entire front end becomes privy to her very vivid conversation. It went something like this, but it was far longer in reality...
"Hi, Frank...Yes, I'm at the store, I'm using their phone, my phone died...No, my phone really died...Yes, it died! I forgot to charge it, and it died!...No, I'm NOT full of shit!...No! NO, FRANK! I AM NOT FULL OF SHIT! I AM NOT FULL OF SHIT!...NO, FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU, FRANK! I AM NOT FULL OF SHIT!!...NO, I'm not! It died!...(and on, and on, and on...)"
Of course, the entire front end was wide-eyed and busting up. The two people she was with looked absolutely mortified. It was even funnier with the fact that the store was very crowded at the time. And bitchy voices carry.
Just another day at the retail circus, right?
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