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Wherein Irv is fondled by a loony old lady
Shortly after 8 this morning, I go to take my first break. Behind me I hear somebody hollering something. Against my better judgment I turn around to see some old woman clomping after me asking "Will you help me?"
Well, okay, I suppose, that's what I'm here for. She tells me she wants a coffee pot. Meaning either a coffee maker or just the carafe for one. So I lead her over the the coffemaker aisle.
On the way over there, she GRABS MY GODDAMN ARM while explaining to me she's a little old lady who needs her coffee. Actually, she doesn't need coffee as much as she needs propofol. I ask her what brand of coffeemaker she has and she tells me she doesn't know, but she probably bought it from the swamp "a hundred years ago" when we were Ye Olde Clearance Swamp Dry Goodes Mercantile Shoppe Or Somethinge.
We reach the coffeemaker aisle and I look for the replacement carafes and find we have none. This brings about much consternation and Irv's arm stroking from old woman. "This is a really poopy thing to do to an old lady who needs her coffee! Shit! I don't care if that's a bad word. You've probably heard it plenty already, honey."
Yes, yes I have. And when I'm done with you I plan to hear it much more, but in my own voice this time.
Helpfully, against my better judgment, I suggest she could just buy a new coffeemaker for the price of the carafe alone. Our cheapest one currently is 18 bucks, which is slightly less than the price of the carafe because the carafes never went on sale.
I ask her if she needs any more help and she says no, so I finally leave.
Up at the front of the store, waiting for my coworkers to join me for break, I notice Touchy O'Geezer approaching one of them. "You look like a nice, smart young woman; would you like to help a little old lady who needs her coffee."
O NOEZ RUN SAVE YOURSELF AIIIIEEEE TOO LATE. 
Co-worker told me she was asked about the same thing I was, and got stroked and groped and rubbed down the same way I did. 
Later on I heard from the service desk lady that this woman did end up buying something, and chatting up a customer in the checkout line ahead of her, and got all hands-y with them too. And as a final parting gift, she paused by the service desk to remark "Things sure have changed. A lot not for the better. But old women never change. I'm happy with the way I am."
And then up in the breakroom I scrubbed my arms down and applied hand sanitizer for good measure. If there were a way to tear my arms off and send them through a car wash or something, I would've done that too. :shudder: She smelled of old, sad and pee.
Well, okay, I suppose, that's what I'm here for. She tells me she wants a coffee pot. Meaning either a coffee maker or just the carafe for one. So I lead her over the the coffemaker aisle.
On the way over there, she GRABS MY GODDAMN ARM while explaining to me she's a little old lady who needs her coffee. Actually, she doesn't need coffee as much as she needs propofol. I ask her what brand of coffeemaker she has and she tells me she doesn't know, but she probably bought it from the swamp "a hundred years ago" when we were Ye Olde Clearance Swamp Dry Goodes Mercantile Shoppe Or Somethinge.
We reach the coffeemaker aisle and I look for the replacement carafes and find we have none. This brings about much consternation and Irv's arm stroking from old woman. "This is a really poopy thing to do to an old lady who needs her coffee! Shit! I don't care if that's a bad word. You've probably heard it plenty already, honey."
Yes, yes I have. And when I'm done with you I plan to hear it much more, but in my own voice this time.
Helpfully, against my better judgment, I suggest she could just buy a new coffeemaker for the price of the carafe alone. Our cheapest one currently is 18 bucks, which is slightly less than the price of the carafe because the carafes never went on sale.
I ask her if she needs any more help and she says no, so I finally leave.
Up at the front of the store, waiting for my coworkers to join me for break, I notice Touchy O'Geezer approaching one of them. "You look like a nice, smart young woman; would you like to help a little old lady who needs her coffee."
O NOEZ RUN SAVE YOURSELF AIIIIEEEE TOO LATE. Co-worker told me she was asked about the same thing I was, and got stroked and groped and rubbed down the same way I did. Later on I heard from the service desk lady that this woman did end up buying something, and chatting up a customer in the checkout line ahead of her, and got all hands-y with them too. And as a final parting gift, she paused by the service desk to remark "Things sure have changed. A lot not for the better. But old women never change. I'm happy with the way I am."
And then up in the breakroom I scrubbed my arms down and applied hand sanitizer for good measure. If there were a way to tear my arms off and send them through a car wash or something, I would've done that too. :shudder: She smelled of old, sad and pee.
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