Wisdom brings lowered expections

Working retail is like a refinery for cynics. The raw, crude flow of human interaction flows in to separate, distill, and purify behind the counter into high octane misanthropy. Even the most dewy-eyed idealist of man's innate virtue, will be unable to shrug off the pitiless blows to their psyche that customers rain down ceaselessly. Either their faith will be violated, destroyed like some attractive youth caught in the path of a bored Roman legion or they will seek other employment that won't leave their philosophic delusions to wither from exposure upon some Spartan hill. Some people like the police may get a grimmer perspective of humanity, but at least they're allowed to physically curb some flavors of incivility. Our revenge must needs be subtle and not stray from a narrow, largely petty scope.

For the most part, this souring of outlook goes unnoticed. Someone just notices that they have progressively less problems with customers in total and are increasingly quicker bouncing back from store issues. It simply seems that they are getting better, which they are, until they pause to reflect upon how they are reacting to seemingly innocuous exchanges with patrons.

For example, a gentleman recently approached me and asked me what the limit was for a first time rental. Immediately, I was suspicious of him. I watched him after I replied, attempting to divine his moral fibre from his behavior in my store. Weighing him mentally as if simple observation would lay bare all his faults and failures for my contemplation.

Why such a harsh, reactive appraisal? Because all too often the people that want to rent a huge stack of movies are also the ones that we never see again. They may seem legitimate at the time we set up the account, but when the due date rolls around their number is disconnected and their card is inactive. We've taken a few painful hits from such cretins and we're not eager to invite any repeat performances. I don't care how jolly and conscientious he seems to be. The effective liars are the ones who no one suspects of being the type to lie.

A few minutes later, he wants to nail down precisely when we might charge him for overdue rentals. Suddenly, I have a peaked urge to plant a remotely triggered explosive charge somewhere decidedly unpleasant in his body and/or draw up extensive dossiers on all his friends and loved ones for added incentive to adhere to our rules. It's possible that he's simply seeking a clearer understanding of his personal rights and responsibilities. It's also possible that some hot goth chick will walk through my front door hoping to embark upon a torrid whirlwind affair with me. It's a crazy world. However, that question coming from the guy within a brief span of time is profoundly ominous.

Since I'd failed to discern any glaring defect barring his membership, I did what I could to mitigate a potential breach of faith in the near future. There is no reason this man will be anything less than a scrupulous customer for years to come. I still expect the doughy grease-ball to vanish into the four winds with our movies like some craven cur.

If I'm wrong, the store benefits. If I'm right, then I get the satisfaction of once more correctly identifying "chum-on-the-hoof."