Why I hate people

Ok, I don't hate all people. In fact, I'd say I actually hate very few, compared to the amount of people there are. But it seems like those few always come into the store on Saturdays while I'm working. Examples (all true, by the way) of why I'm so glad that next weekend is my last weekend in the world of retail:

1. Customer: "Do you have ____?"
Me: "No, we're out of ____ right now."
Customer: Blank stare.

What?!?!?! You think if you look at me long enough I'll reach down into my jeans and pull _____ out of my ass??? "Ta-da! I was just kidding. It was right here in my ass all along. Gotcha!"

2. Customer: "How do I get to the Mexican restaurant?"
Me: "It's in the back parking lot." (While pointing to the back parking lot.)
Customer: "What does that mean?"

What do you mean, what does it mean? It means venture into the parking lot that is not in front of the building and you'll likely stumble upon an establishment that will serve you a fucking taco.

3. Customer: "I bet all the kids do this, huh?" (While watching their children ruin displays and get dangerously close to knocking over things that are expensive and breakable.)
Me: "No."

Actually, yes. Because for some reason parents these days are shockingly tolerant of bad behavior. If I had acted this way when I was a kid... oh man. Well, I would probably still be getting paddled at this very moment. I still told that lady no, though. Because keep your damn kids in line. Nobody thinks they are adorable except for you.

4. Customer: "So what else is around here?"

I always answer this question, because the store is in a place that even locals feel is a foreign land. But what if I didn't know? I don't work for the goddam Visitor's Bureau. Google works for everyone, people. As my dad would say -- "Look it up."

5. Quick co-worker gripe: I saved the new girl from making a huge mistake today. She got confused about the pricing on some items and was about to charge a woman $50 for $200 worth of stuff. I made the catch and the fix, but the new girl literally snatched the gift wrap out of my hands and gave the customer the finished product, so she got to be the hero. Screw you, new girl, for being stupid and still getting to play with the curling ribbons.

6. Quick self-gripe: I can't be fake. Ever. Which is probably why I suck so bad at career networking and dating and anything that involves, you know, superficial interaction. I think I said it best earlier today when I said that my "nice" comes out looking like everyone else's "normal." Doesn't work too well in the customer service game.

7. Customer: "I was talking to [insert owner's name] and she told me..."
Me: Staring and nodding; not listening at all.

8. Customer: "Can I see that piece of jewelry in the case? And that one? And that one? Ok, how about that one..."

Bitch, the least expensive thing in this case is still $200. You're not buying it. I don't have time to watch you play dress-up. Cut the crap.

9. Customer: "I need a ____ in this specific size."
Me: "It looks like we're out of that size, but we just put in an order for more that should be here in a couple of days. When do you need it?"
Customer: "Tonight."
Me: "Oh, well, I guess that's not going to work."
Customer: Blank stare.

Sir, this is not Hogwarts. I do not have a magic wand to conjure this shit out of thin air just for you. If I did, however, have a magic wand and if this was in fact Hogwarts, I would "Imperio" your ass right out the door. Then I would go to the Room of Requirement, which would have a pitcher of margaritas and a masseur ready and waiting.

10. Customer: "Oh, I think they're closing. What time do you close?"
Me: "Seven." (It's 7:05.)
Customer: "Oh, let's hurry. I bet she wants to leave."
Me: Least genuine smile ever.

Translation: Get. The. Fuck. Out.

What's that movie? The one where someone makes the argument that the customer is always right and the guy responds with, "Let me tell you something. The customer is always an ASSHOLE!" I think it's "Mallrats." Actually, I'm now 100% positive it's "Mallrats." I always thought Ben Affleck was a dick in that movie, especially when he shouts that line. Now I have new respect for what the man has gone through to get to that mental state. I've only done this one day a week for the past three months. So, what, 12 times total? I have such appreciation for the people who do this full-time.

I am placing my right hand over my heart (not really because I have to type, but for the sake of the gesture let's go with it) and solemnly swearing at this moment to do everything in my power to never become one of those asshole customers. This is similar to the vow I made after working at the movie theater to never be one of those asshole customers.

I am happy to report that when I go to the movies I take out my own trash and never make unfunny comments about the prices of things. I also come prepared, knowing exactly what's playing and at what time. And I never, EVER, complain about not liking the movie I selected in a lame attempt to get free passes. I'm good at keeping vows.

And I will keep this one, too.