A black man came in with no shirt on, holding his stuff in his hands. His "stuff" was his shirt and a piece of fried chicken. He wanted a pack of Newport 100's, so I rung it up for him. To dig in his pockets, he put his chicken down on my bagging area. He was mumbling and talking fast, but I think I understood most of it. He wanted me to give him the pack of smokes for free because he was Santa Claus. And because he may or may not curb-stomp me or smack my head against the curb. (Although I'm still unclear about that threat.) After I had rung up the smokes, he just starts pressing buttons on the pinpad, which was my second clue that the man wasn't right. He also tried to pay for these smokes with a Baskin Robins card. In retrospect, I should have called my manager or one of the dudes to the front when I noticed something was off about this guy. I need to stop waiting for something to happen before I call for help.
A very angry woman comes in periodically. I suspect part of the reason she is angry is her unbelievably unfortuante looks. She has thick, ill-fitting 80's glasses, and a short, frizzy perm. She has a considerable amount of facial hair, and her skin isn't smooth. (But it isn't pock-marked either.) Her clothes are always outdated. Honestly, it is hard to look at her. And she is so unpleasent and mean. Today she asked if we had gotten a new manager, I told her we had, and she snootily replied
"I can tell."
Whatever that meant.
Thank goodness I'm back in cosmetics tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment