Really. I dislike yuppies. If my income ever catches up to my desires, I'll probably turn into a granola yuppie, but for the meantime, I dislike yuppies (and old people, and children, and ESPECIALLY women of a certain age) with a purple passion.
Yuppies seem to be especially good lately at "forgetting" merchandise at the registers and then showing up days, sometimes a week, later to claim "someone" said they come come in and get it.
Now, our store has a mondo understaffing problem, which results in customers being hacked off beyond belief by the time they finally do get to a register. And most of the cashiers we have don't speak much more than broken English, and that's only if they know and like you. For the customers, they nod and smile and go "Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh."
So the customers just throw all the bags in the buggy and scram, because they're just too pissed off to stand there one more second while the girl spins the rack. Or the person behind is already yelling at her to start scanning their stuff. Or the girl on the register is just a dim bulb. There's a million reasons -- but really -- I've been shopping at grocery stores for YEARS and never left a bag. I still don't understand how people manage to "forget" SOMETHING THEY PAID FOR.
Anyway. Yuppie Man waits in line for at least 20 minutes with a trash can. It is not small, mind you. You could fit a small child inside. When he gets to the counter, he slaps the trash can down and plunks the receipt on top of the counter. He crosses his arms and looks at me.
Ummm. I'm no John Edward, but the only think I can tell at this point is that you're a total tool, dude.
ME: "Can I help you sir? Do you want to return this?"
HIM: "No. I don't want to return it. I checked out and this was not given to me." And I get one of those "Is everyone in this place stupid?" looks.
I look at the receipt and at the trash can. It's the same trash can.
ME: "Sir, you forgot the trash can at the register, is that what you're saying?"
HIM: "No, that's not what I'm saying. They didn't give it to me."
So now I'm arguing semantics with yuppie wearing Dockers, a Ralph Lauren button-down (I can see the monogram) and an Izod pullover.
I still don't understand how you manage to "forget" a trash can the size of a six-year-old. And then I notice that he forgot this two weekends ago.
ME: "Sir, let me try to get this straight. You came here on [this date], which was two weeks ago, and didn't get the trash can?" See, I can play the dumb card too.
HIM: "I've been busy. It's still legal." And that has what to do with it exactly? You're the idiot that left an $17 piece of merchandise in the store because you were probably too busy yakking to your pal Gary about your golf game. Or about your portfolio. Or about a 20-year-old secretary and a 25-year-old bottle of scotch you were planning to share at the same time.
I didn't sigh in his face, although I wanted to. I also wanted to slap him, just because he was being a total tool. But you know yuppies, they're "busy."
And actually, we're not supposed to give anything away after a week. But I know any supervisor or manager would have given him the frelling trash can anyway. So I slapped a sticker on it and said "With our compliments, sir" gave him a totally fake smile and prayed to the golf gods to send all his balls into the rough for the next month.