Bad attitudes can bite you back

A trio of people enter the store; two women and a man. It becomes immediately apparent that one of the women is the primary motivator for the others. Where she goes, the others are rarely more than a couple steps behind. I like that, it keeps things tidy. Nothing worse than a group of shoppers scattering as soon as they pass the doorway, thereafter to maintain a "show-and-tell" operation throughout the remainder of their visit.

Things take a less cheerful turn within minutes however. "Queen Bee" decides she requires some assistance. Her arm goes up and she begins snapping her fingers brusquely as if summoning a dog or unfortunate menial. I saunter over, noticing by her deepening frown that she's displeased at my lack of urgency. The first suspicions of unpleasantness are beginning coalesce in my gut.

Her interest is in some flavored oils and after asking me some general questions about them, picks up a package and starts to open the carton. I halt her before she sets to breaking the seal on the bottle, informing her that to do so would be to commit to buying the item. I am polite and would have thought it a quite reasonable directive.

Instead, she attempts to haul her bulk into a withering glare of disdain. Suffice to say, I was unimpressed. She then proceeds to upbraid me for being unhelpful. How can she know what one she wants if she can't taste them first? Isn't she allowed to pick out a good flavor? Allow me to point out a feature on the packaging called "writing." This ingenious invention allows someone to know what flavor the oils are by use of "reading." I'll be damned if I'm going to let some stuck-up sow stick the store with several potentially tainted and unsellable products because she feel entitled to graze. Of course, I phrased myself in much more civil terms. She huffed and handed me a selection with the decree I should hold it for her at the register as she would be purchasing it that night.

Joy. Rapture. At least it allowed me to withdraw from her immediate presence before I felt the need to inquire about what must be a most cruelly thorned stick lodged firmly in her colon.

I am scarcely back to the register before she and her cronies have discovered the hard-core fetish area. I'm unsurprised, but nettled, that she's taken it upon herself to vilify the "disgusting aberrations" she's seeing advertised on the movie covers. I consider for the space of a slow breath simply announcing loud enough to carry throughout the store that she needs to keep her opinions to herself. However, that would almost definitely offend her majesty and I didn't need to disrupt the other patrons. So once more unto the breach I went. In quiet and soft tones I approached her group and informed them that making disparaging comments about things in the store was not appropriate.

She huffed. She puffed. She quivered in affronted dignity like a pig-eyed clot of synthetic jogging suit and gibbered some brand of justification for being an intolerant cock-socket. I tuned her out and left, prepared to eject her thin-skinned arse on the next social breach. Wonder of wonders, she kept her gob relatively shut after that although she did make a point out of announcing she was never shopping here again. Wow, she just oozed charm.

Perhaps ten minutes later, she waddled to the counter with some cheap vibrators. She declares she wishes batteries for all of them. Rude, but I can do that. I retrieve the requisite quantity of double A's. Automatically, I ask if she'd like me to verify the toys functioned. She glares at me as if I had just asked if the sun was bright and replies that yes, she would. Behind the blandest expression I can manage, the vibes are all tested and work. I begin to ring her up. She doesn't say a damned thing until I've quoted her the total for her purchase.

Oh no, I misheard. She just wanted to compare the toys before deciding. Strangely, the world had taken on a cheerful crimson cast. I lay out the toys. She fusses with them for a few seconds, then informs me she wants to examine a few more.

Have a good night. We're done here.

She made a small scene leaving, but just knowing she's never going to drop in again makes it all worth it.