Queer Geek gets a Retail Balls Award for his quick thinking LOL response to a custy on a tirade in line at the grocery store. Enjoy:
I wanted to share another one of my high-larious stories in the world of custy (or crusty) service relations! This one takes place in line at my local grocery store.
So here is the situation (and no not that idiot from The Jersey Shore), I had left work, still clad in my office clothes, and shopping for some produce because I am trying to stick to my New Year’s resolution of eating healthy and shedding the beer gut this year.
This was round 5:00 in the evening and the grocery store was packed. Since I had five items in my basket I opted to pay in the express lane.
Understand the register lines were long, including my own, with five people ahead of me and two people behind me. The cashier seemed to be moving pretty fast so I thought no biggie I’ll wait like a good custy until my turn comes up and began reading the tabloid headlines off the checkout stand.
Everything was coming up roses until some grouchy lady in front of me decides to bitch to me her complaints about the grocery store.
Apparently, the customer being service four people ahead had tons of coupons (luckily it wasn’t one of those extreme couponers) and one of them was not scanning properly so it took some time for the cashier to get assistance from a supervisor to finish the transaction.
Everyone in my line was being understanding and patient with the cashier as they tried to rush the line along but the grouch felt the need to throw a tantrum to anyone within earshot. I just happen to be her whipping post for the day. I guess I have that face that says. Air out your grievances and bitch out to me about the world’s problems!
Let’s get one thing clear here RHU. I don’t mind small talking with strangers outside of work as long as it is something agreeable but the last thing I want to deal with is someone I don’t know complaining to me about things that are beyond my control.
Grouch: "I can’t believe this! They should open up another register for their customers! I have been shopping here for many years and the service is always the same! LOUSY! They need to hire people who know what they’re doing! That cashier is incompetent! He should not be on a register! You look like you’re a business man? You agree that they need to better train their people, don’t you? No wonder the economy is bad! People are struggling for jobs and the hire stupid people like him! Don’t you think so?"
She looks at me as I stare at her dumbfounded.
How was I suppose to respond to her? I mean usually when custys complain to me I’m being paid for it. I don’t give my advice and listen to her problems for free! Therefore I did what any wicked, comical person would do in this situation.
I PLAYED THE RACE CARD!
Yes folks. I DID IT! I PLAYED THE RACE CARD! Queer Geek admits it was a bad thing to commit such a heinous act of dealing my hand of ethnic poker and Hell is certainly holding a private purgatory for me in eternal damnation as a retail slave ringing up endless discounted merchandise and listening to lost custy souls arguing for a refund. However, in my defense, the grouchy lady did put me in between a rock and a hard place.
Technically speaking I am the custy now and I’m just doing what many custys have done since RHU was born. Let me explain how it works. You see RHU, I am a minority and because of my exotic appearance often get mistaken for another ethnicity so obviously the grouch is going to assume that I am exactly what I am impersonating to be. With that in mind, I confused her ignorance by responding to her in a foreign language. Spanish.
Now understand RHU, I am not a native Spanish speaker. I did take the necessary courses in high and college but by no means do I consider myself fluent but I know just enough to survive if I’m visiting a Latin American country like asking where the bathroom is, where I can find a bar, and all the necessary swear words if you happen to get into an argument with a local.
As the grouch began her tirade of the cashier and kept insisting on getting my opinion on the matter, I replied with the following statement in the most kindest, sweetest, friendly shit eating grin ever.
"Lo siento. No hablo ingles cabrona. Callate la boca. Esperar tu turno." (Roughly translated: I’m sorry. I don’t speak English bitch. Shut your mouth! Wait your turn!)
Grouchy old lady realizes her error that she is griping to a (supposed) non-English speaker and embarrassingly mumbles an apology while she stews in line waiting for it to move. (Luckily for me, she does not understand what I just said. If she did, boy would the shit have hit the fan and splatter into some serious dookie!)
Meanwhile, the two customers behind me happened to be native Spanish speakers and began snickering behind the grouchy lady’s back and high fived me with their eyes as they tried to hold back their laughter.
The line eventually moved fairly quickly as grouch finally paid for her groceries and left not knowing what transpired between us.
On the upside, I made one bitchin’ low calorie salad for dinner that was mucho delicioso!
Hasta la vista slaves!