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A man comes up to the counter with a 12-pack of beer, and asks for a can of chew. I get it for him. He looks out the window, gets this kind of startled look, and quickly asks for a bag for his beer. I get it for him in my usual indifferent manner that I use with most customers.
For some reason, I never have an easy time fitting 12-packs into paper bags. He quickly explains as we work the beer into the bag that he just spotted a lady whose son plays ball with his son, and he doesn't want her to see that he's buying beer. No skin off my nose either way, I just say, "Oh, okay...."
I don't give it another thought. He rushes out to his car. One of my regulars "Tracy" comes in, and makes her usual trip to the beer cooler. She always buys two single bottles of Heineken every visit. The first customer comes back inside as Tracy approaches the counter with her usual beer purchase. She also always buys a pack or two of Salem Slim Light 100s.
I started laughing to myself as I suddenly realize that Tracy is the customer he didn't want to see his beer. However, I'm biting my lip hard so as not to appear rude about this realization. Tracy is one of those good customers who always makes my night better. We'll even chat like friends if we run into each other elsewhere, which I don't do with a lot of the regulars when I spot them.
He walks up to her, and voluntarily explains what happened before even though I would have never said a word out of professionalism. He then looks at me, and says he feels like an ass for being so worried about it. I just smiled, and told him it was okay. I also said that I don't mean to sound mean or anything by that, but it kind of made my night to witness something that funny.
Tracy then chimed in that I could tell about all her vices when she shops at my store.
I laughed again, "It's like Vegas.... Whatever goes on here stays here as far as I'm concerned."
Then, we just laughed about it.
Now, a couple of weeks later, this man comes in about every night when I work to buy his beer and chew. I'd never seen him that I remember before that first encounter. He brought it up when he came in the next night for another beer and chew purchase, and said he still felt like an idiot. I told him not to worry about it. Things like that don't bother me, and my sense of humor is warped enough that I was amused. I never bring it up even though I think and laugh to myself about it every time I see him or Tracy. So, it seems the store has yet another regular customer with whom I've built a rapport.
I've got a lot of them who say they only come in when they see my car, or that they're glad I'm working instead of some of the other clerks because I know what I'm doing.
For some reason, I never have an easy time fitting 12-packs into paper bags. He quickly explains as we work the beer into the bag that he just spotted a lady whose son plays ball with his son, and he doesn't want her to see that he's buying beer. No skin off my nose either way, I just say, "Oh, okay...."
I don't give it another thought. He rushes out to his car. One of my regulars "Tracy" comes in, and makes her usual trip to the beer cooler. She always buys two single bottles of Heineken every visit. The first customer comes back inside as Tracy approaches the counter with her usual beer purchase. She also always buys a pack or two of Salem Slim Light 100s.
I started laughing to myself as I suddenly realize that Tracy is the customer he didn't want to see his beer. However, I'm biting my lip hard so as not to appear rude about this realization. Tracy is one of those good customers who always makes my night better. We'll even chat like friends if we run into each other elsewhere, which I don't do with a lot of the regulars when I spot them.
He walks up to her, and voluntarily explains what happened before even though I would have never said a word out of professionalism. He then looks at me, and says he feels like an ass for being so worried about it. I just smiled, and told him it was okay. I also said that I don't mean to sound mean or anything by that, but it kind of made my night to witness something that funny.
Tracy then chimed in that I could tell about all her vices when she shops at my store.
I laughed again, "It's like Vegas.... Whatever goes on here stays here as far as I'm concerned."
Then, we just laughed about it.
Now, a couple of weeks later, this man comes in about every night when I work to buy his beer and chew. I'd never seen him that I remember before that first encounter. He brought it up when he came in the next night for another beer and chew purchase, and said he still felt like an idiot. I told him not to worry about it. Things like that don't bother me, and my sense of humor is warped enough that I was amused. I never bring it up even though I think and laugh to myself about it every time I see him or Tracy. So, it seems the store has yet another regular customer with whom I've built a rapport.
I've got a lot of them who say they only come in when they see my car, or that they're glad I'm working instead of some of the other clerks because I know what I'm doing.