Holy fist fuck, have we had a run of assholeish customers at work lately. I think it's the humidity that's doing it. Swamp-ass just makes folks cranky. A few examples:
-People just don't get the "No ID, No Booze" concept. "Damn, I'm twenty-six," this moron said the other day when asked for his driver's license.
Oh, twenty-six? Sorry for the inconvenience, old timer. Don't break a hip taking that wallet out of your back pocket, gramps. JUST SHOW YOUR FUCKING IDENTIFICATION AND SHUT YOUR MOUTH.
-Our company has a strict policy: Everyone in your party must be over twenty-one with a valid ID. If four out of five have ID, sorry....NO SALE. God we get a lot of shit over this one. I actually told one guy last week "It's a company policy. Do people show up at your job and yell at you for doing what your bosses tell you to do?" That didn't stop him from bitching, but it needed to be said.
-If you're too drunk to walk or talk like a non-palsyed member of polite society, we can't sell to you. One vodka-sotted redneck had his purchase denied because he was slurring his words like Keith Richards on horse tranquilizers, so he announced on the way out "FUCK THIS STORE AND EVERYONE IN IT!" That's some diva-like behavior coming from a guy wearing a fishing hat and a ketchup-stained t-shirt that advertises smokeless tobacco. Then Mr. Badass knocked one of our shopping carts over as he stumbled through the parking lot. We should have called the police. The Hurstbourne Acres police have been good to our store, and they have a lot of time on their hands. I'm sure they'd love nothing more than to drag a toasted scofflaw around by his nutsack until he confessed to the Jonbenet Ramsey murder.
-Speaking of ID, I'd like to ban for life anyone who shows identification that doesn't have a date of birth on it. Sorry, but an Official Titty Inspector card purchased at Spencer Gifts isn't going to get it done, Chachi. The other day a guy gave me a card written in a language only three people on earth actually read. I kept looking for numbers; even Roman numerals, anything. Yeah, I thought it was weird his last name was E%ZZBN@!*Q, but all I needed was a DOB, baby. As he walked away liquorless, we all discovered he can pronounce the word "Shit" quite fluently.
-The customer who most deserved a 1.75 Litre bottle of Grey Goose shoved sideways up his pooper was this rich guy who argued over twenty cents. I'll spare you the details, but he was not only arguing over four-fifths of two bits, he was doing so from a position of complete ignorance.
And arrogance. He was such a smug, self-important little man. Most indignant customers ask for the number of our corporate office. This douche thought he was the Pope of Liquor Town. He handed his business card to our store manager and demanded to receive a call from the owner. Yeah, that'll happen.
I'm sure this guy is a really big deal in his own corner of the world, but to me he's just another alcoholic buying liquor in the middle of the day. I hope his liver falls out the next time he takes a shit.
-People just don't get the "No ID, No Booze" concept. "Damn, I'm twenty-six," this moron said the other day when asked for his driver's license.
Oh, twenty-six? Sorry for the inconvenience, old timer. Don't break a hip taking that wallet out of your back pocket, gramps. JUST SHOW YOUR FUCKING IDENTIFICATION AND SHUT YOUR MOUTH.
-Our company has a strict policy: Everyone in your party must be over twenty-one with a valid ID. If four out of five have ID, sorry....NO SALE. God we get a lot of shit over this one. I actually told one guy last week "It's a company policy. Do people show up at your job and yell at you for doing what your bosses tell you to do?" That didn't stop him from bitching, but it needed to be said.
-If you're too drunk to walk or talk like a non-palsyed member of polite society, we can't sell to you. One vodka-sotted redneck had his purchase denied because he was slurring his words like Keith Richards on horse tranquilizers, so he announced on the way out "FUCK THIS STORE AND EVERYONE IN IT!" That's some diva-like behavior coming from a guy wearing a fishing hat and a ketchup-stained t-shirt that advertises smokeless tobacco. Then Mr. Badass knocked one of our shopping carts over as he stumbled through the parking lot. We should have called the police. The Hurstbourne Acres police have been good to our store, and they have a lot of time on their hands. I'm sure they'd love nothing more than to drag a toasted scofflaw around by his nutsack until he confessed to the Jonbenet Ramsey murder.
-Speaking of ID, I'd like to ban for life anyone who shows identification that doesn't have a date of birth on it. Sorry, but an Official Titty Inspector card purchased at Spencer Gifts isn't going to get it done, Chachi. The other day a guy gave me a card written in a language only three people on earth actually read. I kept looking for numbers; even Roman numerals, anything. Yeah, I thought it was weird his last name was E%ZZBN@!*Q, but all I needed was a DOB, baby. As he walked away liquorless, we all discovered he can pronounce the word "Shit" quite fluently.
-The customer who most deserved a 1.75 Litre bottle of Grey Goose shoved sideways up his pooper was this rich guy who argued over twenty cents. I'll spare you the details, but he was not only arguing over four-fifths of two bits, he was doing so from a position of complete ignorance.
And arrogance. He was such a smug, self-important little man. Most indignant customers ask for the number of our corporate office. This douche thought he was the Pope of Liquor Town. He handed his business card to our store manager and demanded to receive a call from the owner. Yeah, that'll happen.
I'm sure this guy is a really big deal in his own corner of the world, but to me he's just another alcoholic buying liquor in the middle of the day. I hope his liver falls out the next time he takes a shit.
18 Comments:
I didn't read this post. I never got past "Holy fist fuck". If you had addressed that to Batman, I'd be on the floor in tears right now.
I've been in Montreal for 5 weeks. I'm fairly certain if I wasn't going home tomorrow my liver would fall out in the next week or two.
I'm still waiting on a call from the owner.
HI-larious.
i love this post ever so.
Jesus, I'm 46, and was still being carded until pretty recently (I was blessed with the "looking way, way younger than I am" gene from my mother.) Of course, at my age, I'm thrilled when I get carded.
The only time I ever actually got annoyed was a few years ago when I got a traffic ticket and had to use that for id, and the clerk, who had to be about 21 years and 4 minutes old, was not going to sell beer to me. I had her get the assistant manager-- I'd been grade school teacher for all three of her now-adult children, which she informed the girl. I got my beer.
If the group was not smart enough to leave the non-21 members of their group in the parking lot while they got hooch, they weren't smart enough to be drinking.
In my years working as a waiter, I've occasionally seen people become belligerent when they're refused service because they've been overserved somewhere else. And of course their belligerence proves that you were right to refuse service.
I was at a Walgreen's, buying non-alcoholic beer. (Don't ask. Straight edge phase). I was asked to show ID. I said to the clerk, "Clerk, what the proverbial fuck. Beer-flavored water, blessed-ly free of demon alcohol."
"Company policy" came the reply.
So, being King of the Douches, I went to pick up an entirely superfluous bottle of cough syrup. Brought it back to the liquor counter. The cashier gave me the total, and I busted out an, "Aha! There is actually alcohol in THIS product, and you didn't card me!"
"Yes. You've really got me there." he replied, in the dead-eye stare of someone who knows that I've just wasted $4.00 to make a point that nobody else gives a fuck about.
Had I lit the store on fire, I could have claimed a pyrrhic victory.
Alas, I was just out four bucks.
I work in a grocery store and the people who are "big in their own corner of the world" ALL seem to come to my lane. I'd like to borrow one of your bottles to shove up their pompous asses.
I went to Jewel Grocery Store on Southport (for all you chicagoans) and i heard the clerk ask for "mumble mumble.....card" so i giddily handed my ID, all proud and happy that my 40 year old ass was being carded.
He looked at my hand like i had a turd in it and repeated...
"do you have a JEWEL card?"
He gave my id a pity look at least.
It's posts like this that make me want to say, "SHAZAM!"
hell yes! as a bartender in ATL i feel your pain. you hit the nail on the head!
sysm> CLASSIC POST
I have nothing to add, but I feel bad reading and not commenting. Like I'm stealing or something.
If you give the clerk a blowjob, you'll never get carded again. I learned that from my mom.
brooke,
I was going to address it to Jesus, but I snubbed him since he never answers my prayers.
anthony,
did you document all the times a French-speaking person was rude to you and/or had body odor?
flounder,
this guy was a frail little man, dude.
kendra,
this post loves you back. Wait, that sounded dirty. Good.
johnny,
I'll remember the guy who cursed at us. If I'm in the store, he'll always be refused service. Because I'm like that.
sysm,
it's good to be the King.
jules,
just substitute a bottle of cranberry juice. They'll get the same message.
tracy,
once this woman around fortyish wrote a check, so I asked for ID. She said "Oh, I'm being carded, how nice" and without thinking I blurted out "No, I need the ID because you're writing a check."
I felt really bad about it, but what can you do?
tits,
I'd hope you'd be humming "Shazam!", if you know what I mean.
grant,
thank you thrice for your comments.
dr. monk,
retail is the devil's employment opportunity.
ubie,
if that's the case, lots of people steal from me. Thanks for shaming them for me.
nick,
would you like a job standing outside of our store and explaining that philosophy to all females of "ID checking" age? Please?
"He was such a smug, self-important little man"
I think I know that guy.
Tracy-- remember, you're a Chicagoan-- it's pronounced "Jewels"
Stop. You're making me miss retail.
Right you are Johnny,
right you are.
I was over at the jewels
and da boda-yuhs were dere
buyin sum beerz.... :)
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