craft store/ frame shop
everett, washington
I was working the counter in a custom frame shop of a large craft store chain. It was a typical day very busy on the lunch hour, and our shop was slammed. People waiting for assistance during their lunch hour tend to get very irritated because of the unexpected long wait that it takes to work with a customer and design their orders. I was the “lucky” one to help a portly woman with curly blond hair, who i had seen roll her eyes a few times sighing loudly, while waiting. Better yet, she had a very complicated order, because she wanted to frame a bunch of superbowl memorabilia. She had no idea how she wanted it to look, and even worse wasn’t very open to suggestions. Whenever i would mention the math invovled in the layout, her face would go blank and then she would become even more annoyed looking. She began to make belittling comments.
blond woman: Are you stupid? Can’t you just figure out what i want? You are making things too complicated. You need to hurry Up!
By this point i was near tears from embarassment and stress, and also having a hard time working through the problem with the computer software used to map out the order.
Me: Im sorry mam, But i unfortunately I cannot simplify this process.
She began punching a fist into her opposite palm in a menacing manner commenting under her breath that i was an obnoxiouse little brat and started shaking her head.
Me: mam, perhaps i could get another associate, who may be able to help you better with your order.
I then walked to the other end of the counter and tapped my boss on the shoulder, asked to talk to him in the back. I started crying out of frustration.. and partially out of stress because on top of that mess my husband had just recently left on a long term military deployment. I begged my boss to take over the order. In turn i took over his. For the rest of her time at the counter she continued to shoot me dirty looks, even though my boss had given her a huge discount on her order for her troubles.
That night I came home and told my roomate/close friend the whole story.
Funny enough one week later my rommate came home to tell me of a portly woman with blond hair who came in to the restraunt she worked at for lunch with a friend. As my friend seated them she overheard them talking about the craft store i worked in.
mean lady’s friend: Oh i love that store, they always have such great stuff, and i can always get great project ideas while im there from the employees.
mean blond woman: Oh well, last time I was there, I had some stuff framed and had to work with the most annoying snotty little teenage brat.
My friend immediately recognized the story the woman told. Aparently, the lady thought I was a teenager with an attitude. (i was in my early twenties at the time so i guess that wasnt too much of a stretch) My friend kept her mouth closed as she seated her guest.
I guess that I can have my satisfaction in the fact that the cooks at that time in that restraunt sometimes took special care handeling the food of “special” customers like portly blond lady. *smirk*
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