Saturday, September 19, 2009

Friday Night Crazy

Good Saturday morning! Friday night was bit crazy at the store, you would have thought it was a full moon by the way people were acting. I had a little bit of everything last night, and i was only there five hours.

I am coming to believe with all my heart that payday makes people do things that they never would otherwise. For example we had a woman literally wash her arms at the soda fountain. Evidently she had gotten something on them in her car and instead of using the sink (like the gentleman later in the night we damn near bathed in it) or the bathroom, she just used the water from the soda fountain to "wash up." Rest assured little readers, i broke down that portion of the fountain and cleaned it after she left!

Speaking of bathing in the store, we did have a man who decided to bathe in the sink next to the soda fountain. Now I was by my self last night and crazy busy (we did a busy nights business in five hours) so i wasn't "on my game" if you will. But this man comes in that looks like he may have been an extra in Deliverance or the Ted Kazinski's long lost son. Big, dirty, smelly, stains all over his clothes, pants about five inches short, crazy little look in his eye...you get the image. I greeted him and he went back to the fountain where the sink was. Okay...fine.

A few minutes pass as I'm waiting on customers until one goes "can you stop him ma'am?" I look over and Unibomber has his shirt hanging around his neck and is using a washcloth (and trust me i have no idea where it came from) in our fountain sink to "clean up." So, i stop what I'm doing and go over...mind you there is a full store watching this.

ME: Sir, I have to ask you to stop bathing in the sink. Now.

UNIBOMBER: Isn't the water free?

ME: Yes sir, but the price of the water isn't the issue. People buy food products here and you can't bathe where they do that. Now you need to stop or leave the store. Now.

UNIBOMBER: That's okay, I'm pretty much done anyway. Can I use your restroom?

ME: Yes sir, but you can't bathe in there either.

To that he throws up the peace sign, picks up his backpack and walks back to the bathroom...shirt still around his neck. So I have to take care of the now LINE of customers and then go clean up the fountain AGAIN from bath time. As I'm doing that, I can smell something funny in the air. Now, I know what you're thinking "Clerk-K, if Hillbilly Jim needed a bath so bad that he was washing up at the fountain...that would explain the strange smell." And your right, but it wasn't that kind of smell.

It was the kind of smell that was reminiscent of Goldie and Stoner. About that time, our bathing beauty comes out of the bathroom with wet hair and a freshly scrubbed face, and a fired up joint between his lips!

ME: Sir! You need to leave the store immediately or I'm 'calling the police. You CANNOT smoke in here!

UNIBOMBER: But it's not a cigarette, it's pot. You can't smoke pot here?

ME: Sir, I hate to bust your bubble but you can't smoke pot ANYWHERE. Now get out of the store. (with store phone in hand)

Once again I get the peace sign, he got on his bicycle and rode gleefully into the night.

And all this happened before 6 p.m.!

It was between 6 and 7 that a customer tried to pick a fight with me, I got called a racist (I asked someone to repeat themselves because I couldn't understand them) and had at least two people freak out over my age -- I'm 36 pushing REALLY hard on 37 and evidently don't look it. Ahh Fridays.

Customer of the Night: This customer came in before five and frankly, looked like a Hot Topic threw up on her. Knee high black buckle boots, short plaid goth school girl mini, bright pink highlights with some weird color patterns -- essentially she looked like she was trying SOOO hard to not "conform" that she just ended up looking like a stereotype. Then she turned around and HOLY CRAP. She looked like she was pulling fifty along behind her with wrinkles for years and the coal black base of her hair only made it worse. She bough smokes (of course) so I id'd her. Her response "people always think I'm really young, but I'm over 18!" I laughed, smiled and checked her id and she was born in 1970. She proceeded to tell me while i was looking at her id, and trying not to crack up, that she was confused for a 20 year old ALL the time and she always had underage boys hitting on her.

Listen Elvira, scrub some of that make-up off, lighten your hair and shop in a store for women our age. You look stupid and I'm pretty sure if they are hitting on you it was because they lost a bet, or were sexually traumatized by Munsters re-runs at a young age!

We'll see tonight if Saturday stands up to the high standards of odd that were set by Friday. In the immortal words of my friend David -- Have a quality weekend!

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