This isn't a sucky customer sighting but a spoiled brat sighting.
A few months ago I was at Wally World picking up some oil and an oil filter for my car when I hear this ungodly SCREAMING coming from the front of the store. The Wal-Mart in my neck of the woods is a Supercenter.
Think of the distance between the automotive section and the checkouts. Hell, I bet you could probably hear this kid screaming throughout the whole store.
It also didn't help that this was a few weeks before Christmas. Evidently, he'd been refused a toy he wanted and went batshit.
So I go to pay for my merch and I see this crowd of about five to ten people all crowded around the register as this little shit is just screaming and yelling and making an epic scene--climbing on the cart, on the conveyor, on the shelves--and his mom, God bless her, kept her cool throughout this whole thing. As I walked to the opposite end of the store I heard him start to yell at the top of his lungs, "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"
To this day, I still wonder how badly he got it when they got home. If my kid started screaming that at me, there'd be hell to pay.
And no, I don't have any kids. Thank God--I have ZERO patience for dealing with things like that, and I have a hair-trigger temper. Like I said, hell to pay.
A few months ago I was at Wally World picking up some oil and an oil filter for my car when I hear this ungodly SCREAMING coming from the front of the store. The Wal-Mart in my neck of the woods is a Supercenter.
Think of the distance between the automotive section and the checkouts. Hell, I bet you could probably hear this kid screaming throughout the whole store.
It also didn't help that this was a few weeks before Christmas. Evidently, he'd been refused a toy he wanted and went batshit.
So I go to pay for my merch and I see this crowd of about five to ten people all crowded around the register as this little shit is just screaming and yelling and making an epic scene--climbing on the cart, on the conveyor, on the shelves--and his mom, God bless her, kept her cool throughout this whole thing. As I walked to the opposite end of the store I heard him start to yell at the top of his lungs, "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"
To this day, I still wonder how badly he got it when they got home. If my kid started screaming that at me, there'd be hell to pay.
And no, I don't have any kids. Thank God--I have ZERO patience for dealing with things like that, and I have a hair-trigger temper. Like I said, hell to pay.
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