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Spotted on Not Always Right ...
(A woman who had gone through my line earlier that day came up to me.)
Customer: “Give me back my g****** keys!”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Customer: “My car keys! Give them back!”
Me: “I wasn’t aware that I had them. Ma’am, are your keys lost? I can get someone to help you find them if you want.”
Customer: “No! I know it was you who took them! I put them up on this little tray– *points to the tray next to the debit machine* “–and when I got home I couldn’t find them anywhere!”
Me: “When…when you got home? Ma’am, did you drive home?”
Customer: “Well, duh! What kind of idiot are you? Do you think I’m poor?” *gives a disgusted look*
Me: “No…how did you get back here, ma’am?”
Customer: “I drove here, of course!”
Me: “With your car keys?”
Customer: “Yes! Now give them back!”
Me: “Ma’am…if I had taken your car keys, would you have been able to drive home and back here?”
Customer: “No! But I know you took them!”
(I then notice the keys shining in her hand.)
Me:: “Open your hand please, ma’am?”
Customer: *upon seeing her keys in her hand* “Oh, you little witch! What did you do, ‘magic’ them back into my hand?! What kind of store lets witches work for them?!”
Me: “Ma’am, I’m not a witch…but you are a complete stereotypical blonde.”
Customer: “Oh, how dare you! I demand to speak to your manager.”
(My manager, who is a Wiccan and has been listening to this exchange for the past few minutes, comes up behind me, playing with her five-pointed star necklace.)
Manager: *in a mystical voice* “Well, hello there, earth-walker. What can I do for you?”
Customer: *sputters curse words and quickly storms out*
*
My mom wants to go see Revolutionary Road later. We're not supposed to get our snow until later tonight into tomorrow, so we should be okay on that count.
(A woman who had gone through my line earlier that day came up to me.)
Customer: “Give me back my g****** keys!”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Customer: “My car keys! Give them back!”
Me: “I wasn’t aware that I had them. Ma’am, are your keys lost? I can get someone to help you find them if you want.”
Customer: “No! I know it was you who took them! I put them up on this little tray– *points to the tray next to the debit machine* “–and when I got home I couldn’t find them anywhere!”
Me: “When…when you got home? Ma’am, did you drive home?”
Customer: “Well, duh! What kind of idiot are you? Do you think I’m poor?” *gives a disgusted look*
Me: “No…how did you get back here, ma’am?”
Customer: “I drove here, of course!”
Me: “With your car keys?”
Customer: “Yes! Now give them back!”
Me: “Ma’am…if I had taken your car keys, would you have been able to drive home and back here?”
Customer: “No! But I know you took them!”
(I then notice the keys shining in her hand.)
Me:: “Open your hand please, ma’am?”
Customer: *upon seeing her keys in her hand* “Oh, you little witch! What did you do, ‘magic’ them back into my hand?! What kind of store lets witches work for them?!”
Me: “Ma’am, I’m not a witch…but you are a complete stereotypical blonde.”
Customer: “Oh, how dare you! I demand to speak to your manager.”
(My manager, who is a Wiccan and has been listening to this exchange for the past few minutes, comes up behind me, playing with her five-pointed star necklace.)
Manager: *in a mystical voice* “Well, hello there, earth-walker. What can I do for you?”
Customer: *sputters curse words and quickly storms out*
*
My mom wants to go see Revolutionary Road later. We're not supposed to get our snow until later tonight into tomorrow, so we should be okay on that count.
