I work at a video store, which baffles me, because why the hell do video stores still exist? What baffles me even more, however, is the clientele. On a typical day, the customers are 75% senior citizens. They are usually fine, but then there are the times when the few come in who are, for lack of a better word, sons of bitches. Today, one such customer came in, and wouldn't you know it, came to my register to complain.
"My movie didn't play, and it was terrible. Actually they were both terrible."
Excuse me? Which is it bitch? Was the movie terrible? Did it not play? This woman, a terrible little horror, would not rescind on her lies. She looked at me, expectantly, as though I should have given her all her cash back that she ever spent on anything dissapointing in her miserable little life. I smiled, and asked what it was she wanted from me.
"I want my money back."
The thing about people who are obviously lying is that they will not back down, especially when they are elderly and there is money involved. I spoke with my manager after she left the counter to look for another movie, and he basically said she could go fuck herself.
When she came back up, she demanded her movies for free. I told her I could do one, but not two, as my authority didn't quite stretch that far. She told me it did.
ME: I'm so sorry, but I just don't have the authority to do that.
HER: Yes you do.
According to this annoying little lunatic, by just telling someone they have the authority to give you something for free, they magically do. Why this lady didn't give me the authority to dropkick her in the kisser is beyond me.
Our conversation went on like this for a while, her telling me I should give her the movies for free, and me telling her to go join Netflix. It ended with me telling her I would put a note on her account, alerting the next unfortunate soul who has to deal with her to give her a free movie. The note basically says she is an insane person.
Are all elderly people like this? No, but for those who are, just know this: when you are in front of any salesperson or waiter, demanding that refund or new meal-only two words are passing through our heads, "GODDAM SONOFABITCH.
-Kat
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Hello Neighbor
Last week, I visited Grandma, and as I was getting ready to leave, she asked me if I would be able to cut the nails on her right hand. "I can do the left one, I just need the right one done." I cringed and agreed to do it. I am always afraid that I will cut Grandma's nail too low and blood will gush everywhere. I figured she had this fear too, as it has been so very long since she requested I cut her nails. Just as I was about to get the bowl of warm water for Grandma to soak her hand in pre-trimming, my mother came in with one of Grandma's neighbors, "Jane." Jane is Dorothy Zbornak minus the humor and feminity. She is a very tall lady who I've seen more than once in overalls, so I believe she must have a playful side, but I could be wrong in that assumption. In fact, I'm pretty sure I am. My mother announces, "Jane wanted to say hi, Mother."
"Oh, hello," my grandmother seems less than pleased to have company. My mother and my grandmother have actally known Jane long before Grandma was living across the hall, as their families went to the same church. Jane is about 12 years younger than Grandma, and claims herself to be "very active, and not around the apartment that much because she is always out doing something, like volunteering." I don't know how true this is because I see her around quite a bit, but maybe it's between her appointments. We hear a bird whistle. A sound I always hear at Grandma's. "That must be the parrot that belongs to the people downstairs," my mom says.
"That bird has a filthy mouth," Jane responds.
"Really?" My mother asks, fairly surprised.
"Oh, yeah. It's always 'effin-a-hole, or eff you, you old B-word' when I walk by."
I think, huh, even birds get fed up with the elderly.
"But the lady that owns, it, she's a sweet old lady, right?" My mom asks.
"She's not that sweet. Or OLD," Jane adds.
My mother and Jane talk for a little bit, while my grandmother just kind of looks on smiling, speaking up occasionally. Jane was an elementary school music teacher, and this just seems like such a perfect job for her. She reminds me of my elementary school music teachers, no humor, no warmth. I would have guessed it as her profession immediately. I can tell Grandma really wants Jane to leave. This becomes evident when she gets up to go to the bathroom. I thought for sure, she's going to blow it up in there. Nothing will clear a guest out of a small apartment as sooner than that. No fireworks in the bathroom, so when Grandma comes out she asks me if I will cut her nails now. That works, and Jane gets up to leave. Later on that night, my mother complains to me that Grandma wasn't as social with Jane as she should have been. "Asking you to cut her nails, she might as well have asked you to wipe her ass."
"Or maybe, she should just get a parrot."
-Jojo
"Oh, hello," my grandmother seems less than pleased to have company. My mother and my grandmother have actally known Jane long before Grandma was living across the hall, as their families went to the same church. Jane is about 12 years younger than Grandma, and claims herself to be "very active, and not around the apartment that much because she is always out doing something, like volunteering." I don't know how true this is because I see her around quite a bit, but maybe it's between her appointments. We hear a bird whistle. A sound I always hear at Grandma's. "That must be the parrot that belongs to the people downstairs," my mom says.
"That bird has a filthy mouth," Jane responds.
"Really?" My mother asks, fairly surprised.
"Oh, yeah. It's always 'effin-a-hole, or eff you, you old B-word' when I walk by."
I think, huh, even birds get fed up with the elderly.
"But the lady that owns, it, she's a sweet old lady, right?" My mom asks.
"She's not that sweet. Or OLD," Jane adds.
My mother and Jane talk for a little bit, while my grandmother just kind of looks on smiling, speaking up occasionally. Jane was an elementary school music teacher, and this just seems like such a perfect job for her. She reminds me of my elementary school music teachers, no humor, no warmth. I would have guessed it as her profession immediately. I can tell Grandma really wants Jane to leave. This becomes evident when she gets up to go to the bathroom. I thought for sure, she's going to blow it up in there. Nothing will clear a guest out of a small apartment as sooner than that. No fireworks in the bathroom, so when Grandma comes out she asks me if I will cut her nails now. That works, and Jane gets up to leave. Later on that night, my mother complains to me that Grandma wasn't as social with Jane as she should have been. "Asking you to cut her nails, she might as well have asked you to wipe her ass."
"Or maybe, she should just get a parrot."
-Jojo
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)