The Customer Code of Conduct

Yes, it's true that customer service isn't what it used to be. But you know what? Customers aren't what they used to be, either. I worked retail for far too long, and I would like to show the customer the error of his ways with this, The Customer Code of Conduct.

Dear Customers:

Be a parent first, a customer second. Watch your fucking kids. No one, not even the store manager, makes enough money to have to babysit the typical spoiled brat. Please don't let them run around destroying things and making life miserable for everyone else. Being an inconsiderate wad of fuckgunk is not a right bestowed on you when you procreate. Have you seen the pieces of garbage who have kids? You aren't special.

If the store doesn't have it, well... tough shit. I don't know how many times I'd tell a customer we were out of a certain item and they'd reply, "But I really need it." Oh, well that changes everything! We always keep one in the back under lock and key for the desperate soul who really, really needs it. The keyholder, who happens to be a fairy pixie, is asleep; but if you can get all the other customers to clap their hands in unison, you just might wake her up.

Get a check card. Check cards, or debit cards, are free from your friendly neighborhood bank. That's free, as in "no cost to you". Don't fear the dreaded Visa logo on the card. The money will come from your checking account and you won't be charged interest. If you're old and absolutely refuse to get one, how about having your checkbook out before you get to the front of the line? You could even surprise the shit out of everyone by writing the date and the name of the store on the check. In other words, don't act surprised that you have to pay for the items in your cart.

Don't be a cheap pile. Every time I worked a Saturday night at Organized Living, I could count on the Dirty Henderson trailer people wandering around the store bitching about the prices. Customers, employees don't set the prices. Why is that so hard to understand? Employees are just there to get paid, and paid poorly. The semi-retarded guy who rides the giant bike with a basket on the handlebars makes more money selling the Sunday paper at that busy intersection near the mall. People who work retail are not trying to price gouge you so you can't afford a new Nascar sticker, so calm the fuck down.

No one cares about your personal life. Oh, this is for your daughter who lives in Los Angeles, huh? I don't care. "Did you find everything you were looking for?" is something retail employees are forced to say; it's not an invitation to pelt us over the head with the gory details of your shameful existence. Once I had a fossil tell me about his hernia. I tried responding with "Really? My uncle hasn't had a solid bowel movement in ten years," but it backfired on me. The old man's reply was "I've suffered from the loose stools for longer than I can remember." Longer than he could remember could have been four hours, but still...

Chris Rock: Funny. You: Not so much. I'm tall, and I'll bet you a million dollars I've heard 'em all. Same goes for the short and the superfluous-nippled. If someone has an obvious physical oddity, for the love of P.T. Barnum just let it go. Funny people don't shop at the mall or K-Mart, with rare exceptions. You are not one of the exceptions.