5th of July and I'm closing up shop. I have a nice group of latino kiddies asking me about the left-over fireworks (the celebration POP~! kind that shoots out confetti strings) and before I realize it it's 20 minutes after close. Kiddies check out with Mom in tow and I let them out of the locked store (Locked at 9pm on the dot to keep other people from keeping me open any longer).
Oldest girl (about 11, I'd say): What time do you close?
RW: I actually closed a long time time ago.
OG: You stayed open for us? Why didn't you tell us? We'd have left sooner!
RW: As per Corporate, I'm not allowed to tell customers to go away if they were in the store before I closed.
OG: Man, that sucks!
I grin and agree and she goes on her merry way. Go to tell 2nd Asst. D that everyone is gone and that I'm pulling my till. Head up to my till to find an elderly gentleman standing there with a package of clothes pins. Cue great big deer-in-the-spotlight eyeballs from me.
RW: How did you get in here?
ED: Uh...I was down that aisle?
Okay, can I ring ya up while I'm here?
ED: Sure! I bet you'd like to get home right about now.
Ring him up, let him out and bid him a good night. Lock the door. Take four steps and then I have two kids (12 and 8) beating on the door to get in.
RW: Sorry, I'm closed.
Older Brat: YOU SUCK!
RW: ....I'm off the clock*, I DON'T CARE!**
Tongues sticking out of bratty mouths ensues and I pull my till and mutter about brats wanting in after closing hours.
**Act like that and it's TOTALLY true!