Hi there. Pseudo-yuppie scum are the bane of my existence. Just because you can afford to rent a home in a neighborhood that won't let me through the front gate doesn't mean you actually ARE yuppies. You might want to check out the "professional" part. And while you're at it - the "young" part.
As has been chronicled here before, we're not supposed to take back bikes - but this policy has been crumbling as idiot human after idiot human cries, whines, bawls, sputters, complains, howls, carps, gripes, grouses, grumbles, moans, squawks, wails, laments and finally manages to hector some underpaid and under-brainpowered manager into "making an exception." Saturday saw six "exceptions" littering the Service Desk by 10 p.m.
So pseudo-yuppie and his towel-girl consort (green terrycloth shorts don't look good on fashion models honey, much less your lumpy milk-white legs) want to return not one but TWO adult bikes that they bought this morning and claim both are junk.
"We took off on them down the road and the noise was awful. All I could hear was racket." Hmm. Maybe because you're riding beside a major county highway?
But we're not supposed to take back bikes. Remember? So I tell him "No. We can repair them." Which is followed by the typical white-trash-with-an-attitude sewer storm of entitlement and bile that usually trails a few sentences after the word "No" whenever said expression is used in a retail setting.
Personally, I don't care. I'd take back a baby if it had a receipt. But I'm not going to be handing out $200 without covering my back.
So I get someone to talk to Pseudo-Yuppie and Green Terrycloth - and they say "Go ahead." **sigh**
So now he gives me one of those "I showed you" grins and started to open his mouth. I gave him a look that would melt glass and he shuts it.
And after having won the right to rent a bicycle from Wal-Mart and get his $195 back - and securing cash for his bud, beer and whatever else, the happy couple proceeds CELEBRATE by making out right there up at Customer Service while I'm scanning receipts and typing in numbers off said sweaty, stinky receipts.
Not just a hug and a peck mind you, but full-on body-wrap "let me check your tonsils" kissing. There were also wandering fingers, hands and an occasional toe being seen in NOT THE CORRECT PLACES! Not appropriate. Not appropriate. PS: Your children are going to look like monkeys! Ugly Jane Goodall reject monkeys!
Scuzzy vacationers who "rented" bikes for the afternoon. I hope you get TB on the plane home.
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11 comments:
Brilliant!
I love your blog!
Mike
Ack! What is it with people who must grope, make-out, and/or otherwise defile their SO in not only a public place, but a place of business! That kinda thing was taboo in high school(even among my peers) but yet I see this crap all the time. Holding hands is one thing, but people straight up making out in front of the Hamburger Helper just baffles the mind! I really want to go up to these people and say, "_____ Market is where you bring the family, not make it!"
"people straight up making out in front of the Hamburger Helper"
I know it's only just after 9am, and I've not even had my first cup of coffee yet, but I'm pretty sure this will turn out to be the best phrase I've heard all day.
Oh, and, yes, the two things I hate when couples do in public: copulating and quarreling.
"I'd take back a baby if it had a receipt."
This should be the slogan when you get your own line of t-shirts/key chains/coffee mugs.
At the very least it should be made into a sampler and hung up at your workplace.
Why such hostiality at the pair ,,, they are your typical wallywierd customers and you work at wallywierd. Wallywierd customers have learned that there is not a rule or policy than will stand if they rant and rave enuff!
Your hostiality needs to be directed at your lame weak mgrs.
On the plus side ,,, GREAT BLOG!
Honey, you had me laughing my big fat butt OFF with the comments that follow NO in retail!
You are hilarious!
Well. At the VERY leat BB is an equal opportunity racist.
White trash? Babies looking like monkeys?
And don't tell me to move along.
Silence confers consent.
RECOGNIZE.
Jess
Jess
Oh, shut up. You. are. tiresome. Find your outrage somewhere else.
Plat, you just don't recognize.
It's OK. It's OK. We can't all be expected to see past the curb.
It's all good.
Jess
Jess, YOU just don't recognize that you are A FUCKING ASSHOLE!
Man, I wish I didn't care about getting my soul all sticky.
I have a Wal-Mart bike. Shoosh, don't judge me. It's what I could afford at the time. Big surprise, it gets me from Point A to Point B but it runs terribly.
Thinking of buying a real bike soon...judging from your blog I could get another fifty dollars toward that price if I just turn on the whiny for a manager and make Wal-Mart take the old one back.
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