This time it's a sickly sweet mooshy gooshy story.
I know how everyone LOVES those.
So I'm at work during the lunch rush, and we're slammed. Slammed to the point where your feet are glued to one spot slammed. You know the drill. And I see my favorite custy walk in.
Here's the deal about my favorite custy - to make it short, think Forrest Gump. He comes in with his friends sometimes (who're er, like him? I've never bothered asking what he specifically has)
Now, I adore this custy. I love this guy. He comes in and always says "Yes ma'am. No ma'am. Thank you ma'am." The ma'am thing is a quirk of mine, you're supposed to call strangers ma'am or sir in my book.
He's never on a cell phone, he never has the "running away" disease that so many custys seem to have. He never leaves a mess. When he comes in with his friends, he makes them do the same thing and if they don't understand, he explains "the rules" to them. Often times he comes in with his mother - this is the kind of cute part. Even though he's with his mom, she makes him pay for his own food because he works at Wally World and pay for his own stuff; it makes him feel good. He likes making his momma proud.
He came in during the rush, sans mom or friends, and I was stuck on the register. No one had been able to clear off tables because of the rush. So what do I spy my favorite custy doing?
Clearing off the tables. Picking up trash and putting it in the garbage. Even picking the nasty used napkins up off the floor that some custys leave. Brushing crumbs off tables, putting trays back where they belong.
You know, I'm a pretty tough girl in this place. I'm an "old dog" (I'm only 21..eh..whatever.) I'm HBIC, I don't freak out during rushes and dismiss crustys with the slightest of ease...
But this guy?
This guy who as far as I can tell is Forrest Gump's cousin, is cleaning up all this crap? I had the stupidest biggest shit eating grin on my face that custys thought I'd gone mad.
So when he finally made it down to me, I gave him a cookie.
It wasn't much, but Hellbelly's cookies are damn good, ok?! Who cares if it screws up our inventory later, homeboy deserved a freaking cookie.
10 minutes later his mom comes through, and he's got this smile on his face and shows her the cookie.
FG, pointing at me: She gave me a free cookie!
FG: Uh..I dunno...
Then he got all bashful and she asked me why he got a free cookie, and I explained to her what happened.
Then his MOM started tearing up a little bit.
Me: That was the nicest thing anyone's done for me all day.
Mom: You should see him around the house, I never have to clean ANYTHING.
Me: So...can I borrow him?
Ahaha. I know. It shouldn't be that big of a deal, but my nicest, most well behaved customer is a little slow - but it doesn't stop him from being polite, which is more than I can say for my ahem, average custys. It's a cruel irony. But I firmly believe that this kiddo was raised right by his momma. Kudos to that woman!
-- Buck Bait