Drunks, get yer drunks here, sugah
Jul. 10th, 2005 04:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
impyBirthday rantage is being stored nice and tidy for Monday, or a locked entry that'll be unlocked Monday. Depending on the actual suckage content from this point on.
Instead we'll tell you the story of the drunken batteries. Ready? Yay!
This dude came in a month or so ago when I was working 10-6 and Jeffrey was still there. He's kinda dirty [and I'm kinda being polite] and missing teeth and really fucking difficult to understand when he speaks. You also suspect he doesn't remember a time that doesn't involve lots of alcohol. But whaaaatever. He wanted to buy a walkman and some batteries. So he bugged me and Jeffrey [proper English has no place in this story, kay?] for what seemed like forever, and he kept calling Jeffrey by at least three other names. But he got his stuff and left.
He came back a couple of times that night. Once to rebuy all that crap and once I think to just creep me out.
But he comes in Friday night and he smells like he's been soaking in beer for days. The smell is so bad that I'm doing that fun hold your breath but don't be too obvious about it move. Yeah, classic. He wants to return his $7.99 walkman because it doesn't have FM. I blink and shrug and say, okay. He toddles off to get one that does. He's also blathering on about the batteries which look like they joined him in his beer bath. At this point I call Mad Madam H to do the exchange, because Holy Christ on a cracker, I wanted none of this.
Enter H. She listens and politely agrees to take back the beer battered items despite the fact that by now they've reached the point where NO ONE should take them. It's cut your losses time, buddy. But no, she's nice like that. So she finds a non soaked pack of batteries, puts them in as part of the exchange and switches out the new walkman [$19.99] for the old. He pays the difference and Mad Madam H stops him as he gathers his soaked batteries and new purchase and explains that, hello, he just returned the batteries. Only she's infinitely more polite. And all hell fucking breaks loose.
"What? I need the batteries. The batteries have nothing to do with this." He says this repeatedly. In fact, had the customers behind him in line been playing a drinking game based on how often he said that last bit, they'd have been just as drunk as he was. She explains that she thought he wanted the batteries exchanged, and he looks at her and says, "No, I was jus' showin' you how wet they are." And he's got this goofy ass grin on his face when he says this, like it makes sense. o_O About this point I realize one of them is gonna die. So she ever so politely appolgises and says she'll have to rering the batteries up, so sorry, all that jazz. So she does, and I say, almost as polite as she, "That'll be $4.25." And he throws a dollar on the counter. I repeat myself. I point to the register where the amount due is displayed. I do both. I smile sweetly but without that crazed feeling I get when idiots abound..
And Mad Madam H steps in and says far more clearly than I can [unless I'm angry], that he owes another three bucks. He has a cow. "But I don't have it!" And they're off. The battery debate goes on and on, and I slide to register 2 to ring up the customers behind him. He's yelling and she's getting louder and I'm doing that embarassed smile that parents get when their kid is screaming and nothing except passing out will stop the kid. That look. And finally he says something like his new toy was only like five bucks more and she stares at him and says, "No, it's more like 12 bucks more." "But I can't afford it!" She points out that he obviously couldn't have afforded the new walkman then. By now I'm wondering if she's going to slug him. Instead she goes off. "Fine, take your batteries, take your stuff, just get the hell out and DON'T COME BACK!" She practically throws the stuff at him and he's got this dopey grin on his face, and she looks ready to kill him.
This is even more amusing when you realize he'll come back. And she'll call the cops on him.
Alas. Reading Dead Witch Walking. I don't know whether it was brought up in the anita comm or whether T.S. mentioned it. He's getting credit unless someone else is going to claim it. So far, I'm in love. :D Double damn. I was a harlot. I was a freaking vampire hussy.
Now I'm off to find my damn camera.
Instead we'll tell you the story of the drunken batteries. Ready? Yay!
This dude came in a month or so ago when I was working 10-6 and Jeffrey was still there. He's kinda dirty [and I'm kinda being polite] and missing teeth and really fucking difficult to understand when he speaks. You also suspect he doesn't remember a time that doesn't involve lots of alcohol. But whaaaatever. He wanted to buy a walkman and some batteries. So he bugged me and Jeffrey [proper English has no place in this story, kay?] for what seemed like forever, and he kept calling Jeffrey by at least three other names. But he got his stuff and left.
He came back a couple of times that night. Once to rebuy all that crap and once I think to just creep me out.
But he comes in Friday night and he smells like he's been soaking in beer for days. The smell is so bad that I'm doing that fun hold your breath but don't be too obvious about it move. Yeah, classic. He wants to return his $7.99 walkman because it doesn't have FM. I blink and shrug and say, okay. He toddles off to get one that does. He's also blathering on about the batteries which look like they joined him in his beer bath. At this point I call Mad Madam H to do the exchange, because Holy Christ on a cracker, I wanted none of this.
Enter H. She listens and politely agrees to take back the beer battered items despite the fact that by now they've reached the point where NO ONE should take them. It's cut your losses time, buddy. But no, she's nice like that. So she finds a non soaked pack of batteries, puts them in as part of the exchange and switches out the new walkman [$19.99] for the old. He pays the difference and Mad Madam H stops him as he gathers his soaked batteries and new purchase and explains that, hello, he just returned the batteries. Only she's infinitely more polite. And all hell fucking breaks loose.
"What? I need the batteries. The batteries have nothing to do with this." He says this repeatedly. In fact, had the customers behind him in line been playing a drinking game based on how often he said that last bit, they'd have been just as drunk as he was. She explains that she thought he wanted the batteries exchanged, and he looks at her and says, "No, I was jus' showin' you how wet they are." And he's got this goofy ass grin on his face when he says this, like it makes sense. o_O About this point I realize one of them is gonna die. So she ever so politely appolgises and says she'll have to rering the batteries up, so sorry, all that jazz. So she does, and I say, almost as polite as she, "That'll be $4.25." And he throws a dollar on the counter. I repeat myself. I point to the register where the amount due is displayed. I do both. I smile sweetly but without that crazed feeling I get when idiots abound..
And Mad Madam H steps in and says far more clearly than I can [unless I'm angry], that he owes another three bucks. He has a cow. "But I don't have it!" And they're off. The battery debate goes on and on, and I slide to register 2 to ring up the customers behind him. He's yelling and she's getting louder and I'm doing that embarassed smile that parents get when their kid is screaming and nothing except passing out will stop the kid. That look. And finally he says something like his new toy was only like five bucks more and she stares at him and says, "No, it's more like 12 bucks more." "But I can't afford it!" She points out that he obviously couldn't have afforded the new walkman then. By now I'm wondering if she's going to slug him. Instead she goes off. "Fine, take your batteries, take your stuff, just get the hell out and DON'T COME BACK!" She practically throws the stuff at him and he's got this dopey grin on his face, and she looks ready to kill him.
This is even more amusing when you realize he'll come back. And she'll call the cops on him.
Alas. Reading Dead Witch Walking. I don't know whether it was brought up in the anita comm or whether T.S. mentioned it. He's getting credit unless someone else is going to claim it. So far, I'm in love. :D Double damn. I was a harlot. I was a freaking vampire hussy.
Now I'm off to find my damn camera.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-10 11:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-10 04:42 pm (UTC)