I seem to be a magnet for old people with attitudes. They really all need to start eating more fiber, knock back some Metamucil and snack on some Fig Newtons. That way they can deposit their crap in the toilet instead of dumping it on me. When I'm old, I don't plan to be shopping at Wal-Mart. If I am, give me the Nicolae Ceauscescu treatment. Seriously. I'm not kidding.
So I'm trying to make headway on the 17 carts of reshops (things left at the registers and around the store) that magically show up at Customer Service when an old woman on one of those Wal-Mart electric carts comes blasting through. She's going hell for leather and just when I think she's going to slam into the counter, she hits the stop button and executes a turn to bring her exactly in front of my register. She's obviously got experience on these things.
Before I can even greet her, she yells out "YOU KNOW WHAT?"
She looks the type to enjoy a joke - she's driving the scooter like a Ferrari - so I answer "I don't know what, but I might know who." She cackles like a Shakespearean witch. And then resumes the loud old-person-my-hearing-is-gone yelling.
Her problem? The glass cleaner she bought was on the shelf for $2.64 and it rang up at $2.94.
"THAT'S RIGHT $2.94. AND IT WAS ON SALE FOR $2.64. RIGHT THERE ON THE SHELF."
So let me tell you, she wanted to know what I was going to do about it.
At the top of her lungs she wanted to know what I was going to do about it. The whole time she's camped out at my register she never got below a dull roar. Think freeway traffic about 5 p.m..
Fine. You'll get it for free. "Ma'am, you'll get the item for free because of our pricing policy."
Which is apparently Old Lady-ese for "tell me about your life."
While I'm mashing buttons, she's babbling like a brook. Or a Valley Girl named Brooke. Either one. As long as it made a lot of noises and not much sense.
"I only wanted it if it was on sale. I love sales."
"My daughter doesn't like that brand, but I do. So I make her clean with it."
"I always come to Wal-Mart. My daughter doesn't like it but I do. Things are so cheap here."
"It's hot outside. It's hot in here too. They should do something."
"You look tired. What time do you get off?"
"We're going to McDonald's after this. My granddaughter wants and ice cream. You should go get an ice cream. Don't you get breaks?"
"My hip is messed up and I can't walk good." But by Kali, you sure as hell can talk.
I hit TOTAL CASH TOTAL and give her money.
She signs the return slip, backs into buggy filled with housewares, then zips out of my life, calling "I hope your day gets better" over her shoulder.
All in all, not nearly as bad as it could have been, but way too much drama over thirty cents.