Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Can I get you anything else? Perhaps a spanking?
So, tonight was too good not to have a posting when I got home. I'm sure there will be another one tomorrow, but somethings are best written when fresh in your mind.
This post is again all about the customers. Tonight was my first night "alone" in the store, and I made it through with one voided ticket and an angry regular because we were out of Benson & Hedges. But I think that there was some neon sign above the store that said "New Girl -- Alone for the First Time" because we had some doozies.
Let's start with the Shopper. You may remember the Shopper from my first post. After encountering him again, I believe that he may be the lost member of the Reservoir Dogs -- Mr. Beige. I saw him pull up tonight, in -- you guessed it -- his Beige car. This time instead of shopping he quietly stood at the fountain and drank a half-glass of EVERY flavor that we have. Seriously! He then decided on Sprite...I think tea had WAY too much color. He whispered his greetings and then shuffled gleefully into the night. Somewhere in the Jo, is a lovely beige house, with a manicured lawn and 10 heads in the beige freezer.
After the shopper was The Donger. You remember Donger from Sixteen Candles. Well folks, Dong is all grown up and has a BAD weed habit. You know the old Cheech & Chong movies where they open the door and the smoke rolls out? Imagine that coming from a tricked out Honda Civic and a 40-year-old Asian man getting out that looks IDENTICAL to the Dong. He giggled and smiled the entire time he was in the store...and so did I because I'm pretty sure I had a contact high from being around him.
Donger then bought a 12-pack of Natural Light, four packs of zig zag papers and a pack of peach Swisher Sweets. He paid, bowed (I shit you not) and left. Only to come back in for three bags of Cheetos, two Mt. Dews and two king-sized candy bars. Talk about some munchies...and way to respect the traditional stoner food. I knew Donger would go old-school.
I salute you Donger -- you wacky tabacky smoking freak. I bet he hangs out with Willie Ames.
And finally, my pinnacle of the evening, was one of my final customers. My co-worker who is working the overnight was running late and this gentleman came in around 10:15. But I'm getting a little ahead of myself.
This guy looks like your average guy who works with his hands, drinks too much and smokes even more. Probably a couple inches shorter than me and in his late 40s. He comes in a lot, has to because of that 3-pack a day Kool habit, and is always a nice guy.
Tonight, he comes in and is very pleasant. I get his smokes. There is the standard "Golly these things are high!" comment, then the following exchange happened:
Customer: Can I ask you a question?
Me: Sure! (he's a regular and I'm trying to be polite)
Customer: Can I spank you?
Me: Excuse me? (externally) ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR EVER-LOVING MIND YOU CRAZY FREAK (internally)
Customer: I'd like to spank you. I love big girls and they are so pretty to spank.
Me: Nope, that's never going to happen. (externally) IF I WASN'T AT WORK I WOULD BEAT THE HELL OUT OF YOUR SCRAWNY DRUNKEN ASS (internally)
Customer: I understand. Would you spank me?
Me: No. It's never going to happen and you need to leave the property now. (externally) YOU NEED TO VISIT WITH A PROFESSIONAL AND I NEED TO BLEACH MY BRAIN. THANKS A LOT JACKASS (INTERNALLY)
Who, in their right mind, asks a stranger in a freaking convenience store if they can spank them?
If you wanna get a little freaky in the privacy of your own home...I'm cool with that.
Hell, if you want to do it in public with other like minded adults...kudos to you.
But if there is something about the smell of industrial cleaner, the whirr of a soda fountain and a wall of cigarettes that works on you like a double dose of Cialis then you have problems that need medication of a professional kind.
The only logic that I can think he might have had was that at $8/hour a c-store clerk is much cheaper than a hooker for a few whacks.
What the hell people.
What. The. Hell.
Posted by Clerk K at 11:41 PM