No Need For Your Attitude, Ma’am!

I’ll start this off with: So, yesterday at work….

I was standing near the cash wrap area, keeping an eye on a bunch of unattended teens. These two women stomp over to me. One was holding a bikini in a medium, the other was holding a cover-up in a medium as well. Both of the items had rasta colors and pictures of pot leaves on them. Classy right? The shorter of the two women comes up to me and stares me down before asking if I work at the store. Honestly. I felt like saying no. I was wearing my name tag, with my position AND the store’s name clearly printed on it. Do people not look or are they just illiterate?! There’s no way of missing my badge!

Anyways, the shorter woman (I’m naming her Insolent for right now) stares me down when I nod and say that I do work there. “So where are your fitting rooms?” She asks. I look at her and tell her we don’t have any, to which she responds, “So how the hell am I going to know if it’s my size?” I completely understand the frustration of going to a store that sells clothing but doesn’t have fitting rooms! But seriously… SERIOUSLY! There is no reason to be rude! Also, you should know your own damn clothing size. I felt like telling her that a medium wouldn’t have fit her anyways — but I didn’t. She was easily twice my size, and I don’t buy mediums in bikinis!

So as I’m turning around Insolent goes and adds, “Well fuck it, I’ll just strip here and get naked and try the shit on here… She wouldn’t mind, would she?” Her friend (who I’m naming Trash), just cackled. I turn and roll my eyes and continue walking off. She should have tried stripping there. It would have meant I had my excuse to call security and get them thrown out of my store.

This was also right around our shift change. So I had to start counting the drawers down to get them ready for the next associates to ring people out. As I start counting, Insolent comes up to me again, and Trash is right behind mumbling under her breath. Insolent still has the bikini and slams it on the counter then slides it at me. Mind you, the register drawer I was counting was out, I had money in my hand and I was clearly counting it. So I look at her and ask, “Can I help you?” She rolls her eyes and asks if she can have the medium bikini top and get a large bottom. I told her no.. They come in sets and I can’t switch them out. Insolent stays silent and attempts to stare me down — as if I’m scared of her. All I got from the stare was that she needed to fix her makeup, it was smeared all over her face. Trash is behind her laughing, and I have no idea why. Insolent grabs the bikini and stomps away. When they returned, they follow me to the OTHER register I had started counting down and demand to be rang out. I just looked up and stared back at her. I told her she had to go to the other register, where the line clearly was and they could be helped on that side. They walk off to get in line and not without calling me a stupid cunt.

I’ve worked at my store long enough that I just shrug it off or smile at this point, since it seems to piss people off more that I’m not reacting. They proved nothing other than they’re a couple of manner-less idiots. Being rude or aggressive won’t make me run to do what people like that want. It really just makes me want to laugh.