Most of the time they're just weird. Or stupid.
Sometimes, they're little slices of hell cast down to Earth to make the rest of us suffer for sins that we may or may not have committed. Jesus died for them, these people live for them.
Here's a basic rundown of a conversation I had tonight.
First, let's set the stage. It's about 8:30, the store's not terribly crowded. I'm helping one group of people, there's another lady up front, and a couple people sitting on the benches waiting for their order.
As I finish with the little group I'm helping and they go toddling off, drink cups in hand, another guy walks in. He's in his twenties, cute enough to be pleasant company but my pulse is still exactly where it should be. The lady who was there before him is standing awkwardly between the two registers, but closer to the one that I'm not at, staring awkwardly up. Like, I can't tell if she's reading the menu boards, or if she just shifted her gaze in that general direction and got stuck. There was so much awkward in her situation, I didn't even know what to make of it.
Some people stand in such awkward manners because they're truly dumbfounded by the contents of the menu board and, despite the fact that they have been there now for multiple minutes, they still can't really decide what they want. And considering how many we get of that specimen, let's just say I wasn't phased.
So said hey, and asked how "they" were doing today. That way, if Madam Awkward was feeling like she was finally ready to get in the big kid line and place an order, she could snap out of her freaky little trance and head over to my register, aka the only one with a person standing in front of it.
She did not.
She continued to stand exactly where she was, looking exactly where she was.
So the guy kind of starts to head up, we're both in that unsure mode of "Who's next? Is it you? I don't know, she was here, but she doesn't look ready... ah hell, it's you."
He steps up, orders, goes to sit and wait, easy peasy.
As soon as he walked past her, boom trance over.
"Excuse me, I was here first. Why would you help him first? I had been here. That is so RUDE. I mean, I've been here, and what is this, just suddenly this cute guy walks in and you just ignore me? I cannot BELIEVE how RUDE you are. I CANNOT BELIEVE it. That is so ridiculously rude."
Woah there lady, calm it. Now don't be fooled by the fact that I used periods instead of exclamation points. That does not mean that she was any degree calmer. In fact, she was stark raving pissed. Here I was, thinking that she was just another dumbo who couldn't decide what she wanted for dinner, but actually she's some ego-bruised middle age devil sent here to make generalizations about teenage girls. Who knew?
So she's going on about how ridiculously. rude. I am, while I'm telling her that it really wasn't what was intended at all. My manager comes up after she says that I ignored her for a boy (who, let's face it, really wasn't even that cute) and assures her that that's really not the case at all, and it's definitely not the way we work. Then he gives her a 70% discount on one of her dishes, throw a few free desserts at her, and the whole time we're apologizing.
"I'm really very sorry, ma'am. I didn't intend to ignore you at all. We just have a lot of people who come in and are looking at the menu, and I didn't want to rush you. I wasn't sure if you were ready. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you, I really didn't."
"It's so just unbelievably rude. I wasn't looking at the menu, I was watching my food get put down over there. (She was there to pick up a phone-in... who knew). And then I watched that girl in the pink sweatshirt try and take it. (Actually, she was checking to see when her order would be ready). I just can't believe that you would ignore me. I was here first. You just wait until you get to be my age and people ignore you."
Mind you, she wasn't that old. Forties, maybe early fifties? Yeah, not that old.
So we apologized many times, and sent her grumbling out the door. Only after she asked for my name, of course, probably so that she could lodge an official complaint on the website against the obviously sex-crazed teenage girl.
The Work Emma was very apologetic. Yes ma'am, of course ma'am, it's all my fault ma'am, I'm very, very sorry.
If it was the Real Emma?
"Excuse me, ma'am, do you realize how obscenely abrasive you are? I mean, Jesus Christ, you weren't even in a line. What is this, Mobs-R-Us? No ma'am, we form lines here. In fact, we even have little ropes to help you out. Generally, the best idea is to just stand right behind the person who's currently being helped, that way you're next in line. Get it? Oh, and by the way, while you were lurking by the second register, we clearly told you on the phone to come to the third. And either way you count it, the one you're standing by will always be the second, because it happens to be in the middle. So props on following directions, Satan spawn. And you know what? He is cute, and he's a hell of a lot cuter than you are, because let's face it, you're getting on there in years and you have way too many wrinkles to be considered attractive. Also, any inkling of a desire that I may have at one point fostered toward wanting to help you has been completely and brutally extinguished by the fact that you are a huge bitch who needs to locate whatever has been stuck up your butt and dislodge it, asap. OH, and if you're still hungry, there's a Wendy's next door. Open 24 hours. Have a good night."
If only...
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