Number One: children screaming incessantly, causing my hatred of them to increase. An older black woman comes through my line and gives the "How do you handle this?" face. I say, "I know, this just makes want my own kids even less." "Oh, you're young. You'll have a bunch." "Haha, no thanks." "Well, don't go about it backwards, having the kids first and the man second. All the fun's taken out of it that way." Thank you, old black lady.
Number two: Karla did her second no-call no-show. My boss was telling me that no one will be pleased with her, even if she does show. I said, "Well, none of us are too fond of her anyway. She's...well...let's just say, she's not the best employee, for lack of better words." The customer in my line said, "Oh, we getcha. I won't tell her." Thank you, nice lady. I wouldn't care if you did tell her.
Number three: Emily came to my register to take a pencil because "Someone wrote 'i hate you poophead' on the dressing room wall." Too late, I thought to say "don't you hate it when people write all over things that don't belong to them?" Emily has a tendency to draw all over anything she can find, from locker name labels to the Metro Transit book to magazines to the top of the Morton's Salt container. I asked her later what was written on the dressing room wall. After she told me, I gave her my line, and she said "Oh, you're referring to me, aren't you?" I nodded my head and smirked. Thank you, Sarcasm.
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