It'd be great if not for the customers.
Two crazy customer stories for tonight (not from today, but from within the last week).
First: I'm up front with a cashier. We're the only ones, because man oh man is it a slow day. Lady checks out, wanders off for a few minutes, and then comes back furious because she can't find her keys.
*blink* Because this is my fault. Sure.
So, she's all flipping out, insisting that she lost 'em up at the service desk somewhere. Well, probably not, but all right. So I start poking around the counters and cabinets and such. I mean, not that it was there, and I knew her keys couldn't be there, but whatever, she was convinced that they were. I look up a minute later and she's gone. Now, her bag of stuff is still on the counter, so she's obviously still in the store. The cashier, who has been waiting on people this whole time, doesn't know where she's gone. We're both hoping she's remembered where she put 'em down.
Naturally, she wanders back up a minute later, freaking out even more because "no one helped [her] search for [her] keys!" *blink* Right. Because there were 2 of us, one of whom was actually legitimately working, and one of whom was looking where she was insisting they must be. Well pardon me if you're too stupid to remember where you put your keys. Idiot cow, why'd you even take your keys out of your purse in the middle of the store? And...how was I supposed to help by walking around with you? See, I don't know what all you looked at. I can go through the store looking for something systematically, but I'll tell you from experience that it takes about 3 hours.
At any rate, she's in a frothing rage by this point and is shouting about how she's never going to come back ever again, because we're terrible people. (I always wonder what this threat is supposed to achieve. If you're making someone's life miserable, and you say you're never going to come back...well, that's a bit of an occasion for celebrating, no?)
The best part is, I saw her walk in again later that afternoon. Yes. Four hours later. I watched for a minute, because I thought perhaps she was going to return all of her stuff in a fit of pique. But no, she evidently needed pants.
*sigh*
And my other surreal moment: Guy wanders into the store and finds me drifting through the dress department. He introduces himself as being from one of the local funeral homes and asks if I can help him for a few minutes. He needs a nice neutral suit for an older lady, about 85, in a size 14.
Note: I am not making connections at this point.
Well, that's fine. I find a few nice suits, and then absentmindedly ask him if it should be a pantsuit or a skirt suit. His response: "Either is fine. I mean, it's only really from the waist up anyway, you know?"
*bzzt!*
At this point, my brain short-circuits. Funeral director...waist-up...elderly lady...OH CRAP OH CRAP SHE'S DEAD I'M PICKING OUT CLOTHES FOR A CORPSE.
"...I think I like the jacket with the skirt suit a bit better, then. Let's go with that. We've got some plain white oxford shirts as well, if you don't have anything to go under the jacket."
At any rate, he was a nice guy, and confided that this was nowhere near as weird for him as the time they didn't have makeup in the right shade, so he got sent out to buy it. Agreed: that is definitely weirder.
But I do have to wonder. Okay, maybe the lady had been ill for a long time, or lived in a convalescent home or something, and didn't have any nice clothes. But, um...wouldn't her family take care of that? Providing clothing and such? Perhaps not. Hey, I don't know. It was interesting, though.
First: I'm up front with a cashier. We're the only ones, because man oh man is it a slow day. Lady checks out, wanders off for a few minutes, and then comes back furious because she can't find her keys.
*blink* Because this is my fault. Sure.
So, she's all flipping out, insisting that she lost 'em up at the service desk somewhere. Well, probably not, but all right. So I start poking around the counters and cabinets and such. I mean, not that it was there, and I knew her keys couldn't be there, but whatever, she was convinced that they were. I look up a minute later and she's gone. Now, her bag of stuff is still on the counter, so she's obviously still in the store. The cashier, who has been waiting on people this whole time, doesn't know where she's gone. We're both hoping she's remembered where she put 'em down.
Naturally, she wanders back up a minute later, freaking out even more because "no one helped [her] search for [her] keys!" *blink* Right. Because there were 2 of us, one of whom was actually legitimately working, and one of whom was looking where she was insisting they must be. Well pardon me if you're too stupid to remember where you put your keys. Idiot cow, why'd you even take your keys out of your purse in the middle of the store? And...how was I supposed to help by walking around with you? See, I don't know what all you looked at. I can go through the store looking for something systematically, but I'll tell you from experience that it takes about 3 hours.
At any rate, she's in a frothing rage by this point and is shouting about how she's never going to come back ever again, because we're terrible people. (I always wonder what this threat is supposed to achieve. If you're making someone's life miserable, and you say you're never going to come back...well, that's a bit of an occasion for celebrating, no?)
The best part is, I saw her walk in again later that afternoon. Yes. Four hours later. I watched for a minute, because I thought perhaps she was going to return all of her stuff in a fit of pique. But no, she evidently needed pants.
*sigh*
And my other surreal moment: Guy wanders into the store and finds me drifting through the dress department. He introduces himself as being from one of the local funeral homes and asks if I can help him for a few minutes. He needs a nice neutral suit for an older lady, about 85, in a size 14.
Note: I am not making connections at this point.
Well, that's fine. I find a few nice suits, and then absentmindedly ask him if it should be a pantsuit or a skirt suit. His response: "Either is fine. I mean, it's only really from the waist up anyway, you know?"
*bzzt!*
At this point, my brain short-circuits. Funeral director...waist-up...elderly lady...OH CRAP OH CRAP SHE'S DEAD I'M PICKING OUT CLOTHES FOR A CORPSE.
"...I think I like the jacket with the skirt suit a bit better, then. Let's go with that. We've got some plain white oxford shirts as well, if you don't have anything to go under the jacket."
At any rate, he was a nice guy, and confided that this was nowhere near as weird for him as the time they didn't have makeup in the right shade, so he got sent out to buy it. Agreed: that is definitely weirder.
But I do have to wonder. Okay, maybe the lady had been ill for a long time, or lived in a convalescent home or something, and didn't have any nice clothes. But, um...wouldn't her family take care of that? Providing clothing and such? Perhaps not. Hey, I don't know. It was interesting, though.