I wasn't ringing people up today. I came in an hour before close to help prepare the store for our big sale going on for the next week. I was, however, quietly assisting our new guy, who is learning quicker than any of the other new people we've hired and who is pretty cool. Well, here comes another Little Precious with Stupid Hick Dad. They trade something in, and, as most know, when trading with us we must gather name, address, and DOB. Not sure if that's a policy in compliance with pawn shop laws, but we still have to do it regardless to put the transaction through. So, while it would be easier for Stupid Hick Dad to answer the questions his nine year old may not be sure about, he was content to keep his ugly maw shut until the very end of the questions. This occurred:
T: cool new coworker
SHD: Stupid Hick Dad
LP: Little Precious
Me: because I can't keep my mouth shut sometimes.
T: Okay, last question, your zip code?
LP: Uhhh...I don't know. Dad, what's the zip code?
SHD: FUCK! Can't we just pay for our damn stuff instead of answering all these damn questions?
T: I..I have to ask them whenever you trade--
SHD: I just want to pay for my stuff! Can't you just let me pay?
Me: (and yes, I said this as sickly-sweet as I could without vomitting) No sir, no we can't. Zip code?
SHD threw some cash at us and left his kid inside the store as he stomped out. T just made up a number. Now, not wanting to give your zip code is one thing, but bitching and moaning about having to recite five numbers? ZIP CODE, you festering piece of moron, not COMPLAINBITCHWHINEBOOHOO.
T: cool new coworker
SHD: Stupid Hick Dad
LP: Little Precious
Me: because I can't keep my mouth shut sometimes.
T: Okay, last question, your zip code?
LP: Uhhh...I don't know. Dad, what's the zip code?
SHD: FUCK! Can't we just pay for our damn stuff instead of answering all these damn questions?
T: I..I have to ask them whenever you trade--
SHD: I just want to pay for my stuff! Can't you just let me pay?
Me: (and yes, I said this as sickly-sweet as I could without vomitting) No sir, no we can't. Zip code?
SHD threw some cash at us and left his kid inside the store as he stomped out. T just made up a number. Now, not wanting to give your zip code is one thing, but bitching and moaning about having to recite five numbers? ZIP CODE, you festering piece of moron, not COMPLAINBITCHWHINEBOOHOO.
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