Before I landed my current job (posts on that to follow), I worked at a small, dingy, depressing local grocery store in my hometown.
The customers ranged from pretty great to pretty moronic, but there's one woman that will forever stick with me.
It was July, and of course, everyone was coming in buying ice cream, popsicles, and other summer fare. It was pretty hot outside but inside the store was a comfortable 70 or so degrees, so it wasn't so bad.
I was merrily cashiering through customer after customer, and one woman came through who - as it turned out - had a daughter studying the same major as me at college. We chatted a bit as I scanned her goods through and counted up the change. And then, the angriest voice I've ever heard erupted from behind.
"Would you HURRY UP? My ICE CREAM will MELT."
Swiftly, in one moment, the cheerful woman in front of me had vaporized and this angry shrew of a woman had taken her place. Her face was furrowed into extreme ire. I'm pretty sure fire was shooting out of her eyes, but I didn't look at her. I quickly scanned all her groceries - ice cream included - but couldn't help myself: "Ma'am, the store is kept at 70 degrees. Your ice cream will not melt in two minutes."
Her husband, standing beside her, had kept his eyes glued to the floor the entire time. Poor guy, he probably hears this at home all the time. She addressed him again as she hustled out the door.
"You SEE? I keep TELLING you, we need to COMPLAIN to management about these KIDS! No RESPECT!"
I'll remind all of you, there was never a point where I wasn't working. The cheery woman in front of her would have been gone in a few seconds anyway, since, well, I was in the middle of handing her her change.
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