Today we salute InSecurity for having mighty Retail Balls while dealing with a foolish, snobby entitled Cat Lady.
Since this supermarket was a small, local chain, we had quite a bit of latitude in what we could do, and our claim to fame was fried chicken. We did our own spicing and had an ancient pressure fryer, with a very loud, very demanding timer. This was actual fried chicken, not the boiled fast food crap.
I first met Entitled Cat Lady (now ECL) on a Saturday, just as I was leaving after closing the deli section. ECL was rather disappointed that we were closed, and wanted to know our hours. I showed her our nice sign that listed our hours, listing the weekday hours, the Saturday hours, and the Sunday/Holiday hours. The sign also along with some nice patriotic clip art mentioned that that coming Monday was Memorial Day. She then proceeds to let me leave.
As many of you astute readers guessed, our esteemed ECL decided to return. She returned when I was closing and breaking down for the day, and not just any part of breakdown, the cleaning of the happy, wonderful hot case! As those of you have cleaned a hot case know, they don't cool down that fast, and if you let it go too long, the damn stains are harder to get out. There I am, head in what is approximately the temperature of Satan's asshole, inhaling the nice, caustic cleaner fighting a series of particularly difficult grease stains, when I hear a rather sanctimonious "ahem". I turn around and lo, it doth be ECL, with the most sickly-sweet yet evil grin on her face. It was as if a bee-hive had exploded on Gargamel's face.
"I got you," were the first words out of her mouth, "you told me that you were open until [X] on Mondays! I got you!"
"Ma'am, I'm afraid that today is Memorial day, a holiday and that we are on the same hours as a Sunday."
She paused there for a minute, as the hamster in her brain woke up and started to run on the wheel.
"Well, I want some chicken anyway!" she declared.
Since I had just run the last of the chicken into the cooler for cold packs or chicken salad tomorrow, it was still warm, I told her as such and offered to get her some. She decided on a few wings and a thigh.
I then looked her dead in the eye, and told her the first thing that popped into my head, "Well then, ma'am, your cats are eating better than you."
She then made a sound like a duck being pressed through a trumpet and stalked off, with mutters involving managers and such.
I finish on cleanup, and just as I am about to leave, the store's assistant manager comes over and asks me exactly what I said to ECL. i told him, and he doubled over laughing. He said it, "was still the funniest thing he heard that day."