| [ |
mood |
| |
aggravated |
] |
A bit ranty today, sorry.
Sir, there are many ways you can get my attention. You could clear your throat. You could say any of the following things: "Pardon," "Excuse me," "Do you work here?," "Miss," "Ma'am," hell, I'll even take "Sir." I wouldn't even mind if you tapped your fingers angrily on the counter. But, for the love of baby Jesus, do not stand behind me whispering, over and over again, "Hello, dear." If you'd just said it in a normal voice, once, I wouldn't have minded. But, no, you just had to whisper it into my ear, so that I whip around to see you standing in the darkness all creepy.
There are two sides to my counter. The left side is covered in tissue paper, the dead side, and the right side has a nice open space, and is where I take all my customers. There are not two lines. I don't serve people over the left side. You come over to the left side, I tell you to step over to the right. If I could put up a sign, I would. The vast majority of people figure it out, since I only talk to folks from the right side.
So, please don't try to form a line over there. I'll just tell you to move. I've been paying attention to the people who can line up properly, and I really have no clue when you stepped in. And, if you start rooting through your purse, I'm going to assume that you just needed a flat space to figure out your finances, and are not in line. Don't get all huffy when you suddenly decide that you're ready, and I don't instantly flock to your service. I have a line, and you're not in it.
A lady and some kids stepped up to the left side, and I asked her to come to the right side. I finished checking out the people on the right side, and I thoughtlessly turn to the left to get the lady who was waiting. There I see a lady and some kids. Because I'm a bit frazzled, and horrible with faces, I start ringing them up, only to discover that the first lady had already moved, and was waiting on the right side. So I'd asked her to move, she had, and now I was ringing up another lady. I felt wretched, but, why on Earth would you watch someone be asked to switch sides, and then completely disregard that to take her place? Why was that necessary?
This bit was just aggravating. My little shop is expensive. Three dollars will buy you a postcard and a pack of pencils, and literally nothing else. So, when a chaperon brings in a group, where each child has only three dollars, and she just lets them loose, that means that I'm left to do price checks every three seconds and a dozen voids because the kids can't do math. If I wasn't so busy, I'd help them find things they can afford. But I don't have time, so I'd appreciate it if the chaperon could pay the least bit of attention and help the kids.
|