Hey guys, it is Redheadactress again.
Bookstore Slave with a pair of Hoarders memories.
So, I had been coasting along at 4 years straight employed and was just trundling through yet another evening shift when we received several custys in a row of dumbfuckery. In order to give yourself the appropriate understanding of my evening, kindly read the story in its entirety, and then simply replace "Dumbass 2, 3, 4 and 5" and re-read the story 5 times in a row.) Or just, y'know, facepalm because you know that custies are that stupid.
Dumbass 1 arrives with a DVD in its "anti-theft" clear box and puts it on the counter. Bookstore Slave rings up this brand spanking new DVD still in its plastic and all appears as normal until Dumbass opens his mouth.
Dumbass 1: So when is this movie due back?
Me: Uhm, you have 30 days and it cannot be opened.
Dumbass 1: But how can I watch the movie if I don't open it?
Me: You don't. If you want to watch the movie, you keep the DVD.
Dumbass 1: What?
Me: Sir... you are purchasing this DVD. If you don't want this movie, don't open it and we can return it for you.
Me: No... sir... we do not. We are a Book STORE, who happens to also sell movies and CD's.
Dumbass 1: Then I don't want it!
Come to find out the Yellow Pages listed Hoarders under the heading "Buy/Rent Movies." In other words, our book/music/movies/cafe store was listed right along with Blockbuster and Hollywood video. This would have been worth nothing more than a mildly exasperated eye roll if we hadn't gotten five Dumbasses in a week, each crusty asking how much we charged to rent DVD's and throwing tantrums when we replied that we SELL, not rent. Managers had to be dragged into a few of them.
Hoarders used to have these big black mesh shopping bags that customers could use to carry large purchases in. They had the Hoarders name on the sides, and the little tag saying "Made In [Insert Country here]" None of them had price tags. Most of them were shop worn. And we had to intervene a number of times when owners of yappy little rat-dogs tried roaming the store with their precious little pee bags stuffed inside. No lady, mesh bags do NOT conceal your snarling, yapping, squirming little "angel."
Lady: What do you mean he can't come inside?! It's 100 degrees out!
Manager: Ma'am, we handle food in our cafe, and it is unsanitary to have any animal in the store.
Lady: I don't plan on going into the cafe! I don't understand why my dog is banned if it doesn't go anywhere near the food!
Manager: Because whether you go into the cafe or not, it's part of the store and therefore the ban on animals extends to the rest of the building.
It's at this point that a heavenspawn passes by, minding her own business and aimimg for some point past the scene. She is not running, screaming in a shrill voice, or taking any notice at all of the situation, but instead is calmly rummaging through her small plastic purse to see if she can afford her selection. It is at this point that the rat-dog takes exception to the situation and launches itself half out of the black Hoarders carry bag, yapping and snarling and snapping violently at the very startled little girl, who begins crying.
Manager: Ma'am, please control your dog and remove it from the premises.
Lady: HOW DARE YOU! *she catches the dog before it wiggles free of the bag to have a go at the child* You provoked my precious, sweet little Muffin didn't you?
A fellow employee intercedes and gently pries the terrified, sobbing girl away from the shelf that she's backed up against, risking being bitten by the little beast in an effort to put some distance between her and the situation.
Manager: Ma'am, that girl was just walking by. Your dog is the aggressor. I suggest you remove that animal before we report it as being vicious for its unprovoked attack.
The dog stops snarling and snapping and settles for incessant, shrill yapping.
Lady: Fuck you! *bark! bark! bark!* My precious little *yap! yap! yap!* Muffin is the *bark! bark!* spirit of gentility! That little bitch *yap! yap! yap! yap!* provoked him somehow!
Ironically, security escorted her off the premises, not because we called them, but because the dog's shrill incessant yapping could be heard OUTSIDE by the passing security guard, who was well aware of our no-dogs policy. The little girl was ultimately all right and we managed to calm her down with a cup of hot chocolate from the cafe (on the house). I can only imagine that the dog would have become a bony little football if Momma Bear had come into the scene during the situation.
May all your customers be nice.