Crazy Shops Here
You know I’ve worked too long in retail when you decide to devote a blog entry to it. Nonetheless, here I go with one tale of the many crazy people that grace the walls of the ghetto Canadian Tire and one major complaint for the lazy bitches with no manners (I promise to explain this further).
So today I’m walking my usual route of the Sports/Seasonal department when a slightly older looking man with a purple shirt and dirty suspenders stops me. (Note: this isn’t weird to me as they all look like this man in various forms). He asks me for chlorine pucks for his pool, no problem. I show him where they are and he asks for a larger container. My very helpful friend and co-worker Robert offers to check for me. Then the crazy starts:
(For the sake of argument and throwing politically correctness to the wind, let’s call this customer “Crazy”)
Crazy: Do you have any life dreams or goals?
Me: Um...yah.
Crazy: Are you in school?
Me: Yes, I just graduated but I’m going back to school in the fall.
Crazy: Are you interested in investing to make some more money?
Me: (looks at him confused and annoyed)
Crazy: Most people work to live instead of working to have a lifestyle, my friend has a business that if you invest in you can (and here’s where he lost me) buy a pool and jump from your apartment balcony into it.
Me: ????
Crazy: Or have some of those solar garden lights that are so popular
Me: Uh…yah.
Robert returns, finally (yay!) I give him a look that says: this guy is scary and mouth “don’t leave me.”
Crazy: What’s your name? (looks at name tag) Oh Cassandra, are you online?
Me: Yah… I don’t give out my e-mail though… (looking scared).
Crazy: Well you should go to my friend’s website it’s a concept site, nothing for sale on it. (Tells me the name and address which I have already forgotten). He gives me a shanty business card which I threw out. Perhaps I should have kept it for this blog. He also assures me he’d bring me a more recent one next time he’s in the store and to tell my friends, etc. Fannnntastic.
I don’t know why it appeared as though I had any interest in anything this person had to say but apparently I unknowingly walk around with a sandwich board and ringing a bell that only the weirdos can hear.
The second thing happened to me last week that I’ve been thinking about for whatever reason, since then. This cute old man was shopping and he had one of those holes in his throat where you have to hold the voice box up to it to hear him speak. He asked me for something, I can’t remember what, but afterwards he held up his little voice box just to say thank you. Despite the effort it takes him to speak, he still made it to thank me when half of the jerky CT customers don’t even say anything before walking away. Kinda makes you think doesn’t it?
You know I’ve worked too long in retail when you decide to devote a blog entry to it. Nonetheless, here I go with one tale of the many crazy people that grace the walls of the ghetto Canadian Tire and one major complaint for the lazy bitches with no manners (I promise to explain this further).
So today I’m walking my usual route of the Sports/Seasonal department when a slightly older looking man with a purple shirt and dirty suspenders stops me. (Note: this isn’t weird to me as they all look like this man in various forms). He asks me for chlorine pucks for his pool, no problem. I show him where they are and he asks for a larger container. My very helpful friend and co-worker Robert offers to check for me. Then the crazy starts:
(For the sake of argument and throwing politically correctness to the wind, let’s call this customer “Crazy”)
Crazy: Do you have any life dreams or goals?
Me: Um...yah.
Crazy: Are you in school?
Me: Yes, I just graduated but I’m going back to school in the fall.
Crazy: Are you interested in investing to make some more money?
Me: (looks at him confused and annoyed)
Crazy: Most people work to live instead of working to have a lifestyle, my friend has a business that if you invest in you can (and here’s where he lost me) buy a pool and jump from your apartment balcony into it.
Me: ????
Crazy: Or have some of those solar garden lights that are so popular
Me: Uh…yah.
Robert returns, finally (yay!) I give him a look that says: this guy is scary and mouth “don’t leave me.”
Crazy: What’s your name? (looks at name tag) Oh Cassandra, are you online?
Me: Yah… I don’t give out my e-mail though… (looking scared).
Crazy: Well you should go to my friend’s website it’s a concept site, nothing for sale on it. (Tells me the name and address which I have already forgotten). He gives me a shanty business card which I threw out. Perhaps I should have kept it for this blog. He also assures me he’d bring me a more recent one next time he’s in the store and to tell my friends, etc. Fannnntastic.
I don’t know why it appeared as though I had any interest in anything this person had to say but apparently I unknowingly walk around with a sandwich board and ringing a bell that only the weirdos can hear.
The second thing happened to me last week that I’ve been thinking about for whatever reason, since then. This cute old man was shopping and he had one of those holes in his throat where you have to hold the voice box up to it to hear him speak. He asked me for something, I can’t remember what, but afterwards he held up his little voice box just to say thank you. Despite the effort it takes him to speak, he still made it to thank me when half of the jerky CT customers don’t even say anything before walking away. Kinda makes you think doesn’t it?
1 comment:
Oh. My. God.
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