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This is something of a contest. I've worded it that way for a reason. I can't give you anything, but I thought it might be fun if we listed the worst of the worst. Mine, sadly, comes from my family.
My uncle is perhaps the worst customer possible. I'm not sure why he's like he is, but I know that he's been that way for some time. My mother tries to claim that well, he's sick.
Yeah. He's sick all right. Sick in the head.
Let me give you some background on the guy first, and then get into some stories of his exploits.
He's around seventy. I say that because I really don't know his age. Even though he lives with us, I still have no clue. He's very tight with his money. Tight to the point that he rarely takes enough with him to the store. His mind is still stuck in the seventies when products were far cheaper. To make matters worse, he's what I'd call an entitlement b*tch. Meaning that he thinks he's entitled to anything from a free ride, to products, to your undivided attention, to anything he wants. He also takes the "Customer is always right" statment to heart, even when he's been proven wrong numerous times. My uncle is the type of person you can't tell anything to. Sometimes, if you do, he takes the opposite stand point; just to start an argument. Then, when you call him on his action; or catch him doing something he ought not, he quickly reminds you he's paralyzed. (sp?) Now, don't let the fact that he had a stroke six years ago make you feel sorry for him. He can get around FAR better than I can. However, he's learned rather early on that if he fakes a limp, and drags his foot when he walks; people pity him and he gets what he wants.
Some of his exploits: (mostly short stories)
1.) A few months back, he got on what we call the AJ kick. For some bleeding reason, he'd decided that he really liked these instant Aunt Jemimia breakfasts. He was eating three of the things at a sitting. Now, sadly, I'm the cause of this. At the time, I was up early after working most of the night on movies; and I found these things convenient when I needed something to eat before crashing for the day. I noticed, after a bit, they were vanishing.
Wal-Mart is about the only place that carries these things. So, on one of my days off, I agreed to take him up there to get some. A normal person, may buy five or six. Maybe ten. My uncle, is not normal. Walking into the store, he DEMANDED of some poor associate that they load every last one of these breakfasts into a cart for him. Some fifty breakfasts all told, of which only thirty really fit into the cart. He had his money ready to pay for them.
Then, he turns to this poor associate and again, demands (not asks) this guy go in the back and bring out more since he's not gotten all he wants.
I forget how it happened, but that associate went to a manager, and the manager rather firmly, but nicely informed my Uncle that he was not allowed to buy more than oh...twenty five of those breakfasts at one time. The uncle glowered, spitted and sputtered, but relented. "Ok." he grumbled. "Then give me twenty five."
Imagine his chagrin to find when we got home that only six fit in the freezer. My father, unwilling to throw out any of our meat, refused to let my uncle put them away. Ultimately, the extras were donated to the church and relatives.
2.) Can I help you?
We've all said this at one point. Typically it means "Hey, I see you're looking somewhat lost. I work here so maybe I know where it's at." not "Hi, my name is Repsac. May I be your personal slave for the day?"
At another grocery store, my uncle was asked if he needed help by a man I'll call S. S is a grocery manager, and really cool at that.
By the time my Uncle was done, he had sent S all over that store on various wild goose chases. Numerous times he asked for products they didn't have or carried; only to tell S when told about the items "GO check in the back. I know you've got stuff hid back there."
My uncle has since been banned from that store for threatening to hit an employee with his cane when told the employee was off the clock and couldn't help him.
3.) Same store, before banning. "The Shrimp Incident."
Shrimp is not cheap. EVER. Whether cooked, fried, boiled, minced, stewed, or shell on. Shrimp is not cheap. My uncle, loves Shrimp. Do you see the problem coming?
Remember I said he was cheap? This particular incident shows that quite well. You see, not only is he cheap, but he NEVER buys any generic products.
Me, I'm not beyond doing so. Heck, sometimes the generic is better, but OH no. Not for him. He has to have the real thing. No matter if it's six times the price of the generic.
During one shopping trip, he decides that he wants some shrimp. Picking up the biggest pack, he tells me in never ending detail how he's going to fix that shrimp for he and my mom. Not my father or I, no, we couldn't touch a bit of it. This continues over and over and over, until we get to the register. Taking a moment, the girl rings us up and then turns to him. "Seventy something" she said, and he blanched. "I only brung Thirty dollars." he says and looks at me as though I should help.
Turning to the cashier, I start digging through things. Pulling out the shrimp, four fresh fish fillets, a bag of fifteen peaches (no lie), and the second case of cokes, I slide that over. "Take those off the bill." I state. He turns to me. "Don't do that. I needs them! I needs thems! THey needs to lower the prices. I knows they can..." I ignored the rant from then on. "Just do it." I tell the cashier. She does, and the price goes down below the thirty he had. Turning to the girl he says dripping with anger. "You keeps that up here. He's coming back for it." with that he waddles out. Looking to the cashier, I smiled some and said. "Put it back. I'm not returning today." and I didn't.
4.) Did I mention he thinks he knows everything? Especially what's legal and what's not.
Two years ago, he decides to go fishing. Ok, that's no big deal really. The problem is, he decides that this nice lake up the road is the one he wants to fish in and wants me to take him up to wal-mart to get some gear. This, I'm cool with. I need a new liscense and some rubber worms myself.
While there I turn to him. "You gonna get your liscense? It's only fourteen bucks and lasts a year." Simple statement right? Heck at that point I'd have paid for his for him. "NO." he says quickly. "I don'ts need one." ok...
Here's the thing. In Mississippi, where he came from, you didn't need a liscense to fish on private property, or to fish with live bait. HOWEVER, that is not the same here in Georgia.
He buys up what he needs and I bring him home. HE takes off to go fishing and I head up to a lake where I have permission. Wonderful place, I've even got the key to the gate and the owner may sell it to me later this month. Been trying to buy it for some time now. Well, while I'm up there fishing, I suddenly hear a siren nearby. Looking up there's a game warden coming down the way. He smiles, asks me for my liscense, which I give him and then nearly fall off the dock when I snagged a good sized bass. Got it to the bank, and then released it. (I love catching them, but not eating them) Turning to the man he hands me the liscense back and then we talk for a bit, and then he leaves.
I'm there maybe another hour or so before heading home. Walking down the street, I get a call from my mum. She says that my uncle is in jail, and she's going to send me with the money to bail him out. In jail? What for?
Well...
Remember that lake he wanted to fish? Yeah. that one? Private property. To make matters worse, he heads down an alleyway cut in the trees by some gentleman for his kids to ride their four wheelers through. This alley, opens up RIGHT behind the man's house. Supposedly, he came home; saw my uncle sitting in a lawn chair behind his house fishing. Approaching my uncle he asked him to leave, was told no, and opted to call the police. That warden who was talking with me, headed up that way.
My uncle was fined about 1500 dollars and lost his fishing equipment for fishing without a liscense. Furthermore, he was charged and convicted of criminal tresspass, banned from that lake by the owner (whose house he was behind), and permanently lost his fishing liscense in the state. I forget the fine he had to pay for the trespass.
The moral of the story? Stupid people shouldn't fish.
My uncle is perhaps the worst customer possible. I'm not sure why he's like he is, but I know that he's been that way for some time. My mother tries to claim that well, he's sick.
Yeah. He's sick all right. Sick in the head.
Let me give you some background on the guy first, and then get into some stories of his exploits.
He's around seventy. I say that because I really don't know his age. Even though he lives with us, I still have no clue. He's very tight with his money. Tight to the point that he rarely takes enough with him to the store. His mind is still stuck in the seventies when products were far cheaper. To make matters worse, he's what I'd call an entitlement b*tch. Meaning that he thinks he's entitled to anything from a free ride, to products, to your undivided attention, to anything he wants. He also takes the "Customer is always right" statment to heart, even when he's been proven wrong numerous times. My uncle is the type of person you can't tell anything to. Sometimes, if you do, he takes the opposite stand point; just to start an argument. Then, when you call him on his action; or catch him doing something he ought not, he quickly reminds you he's paralyzed. (sp?) Now, don't let the fact that he had a stroke six years ago make you feel sorry for him. He can get around FAR better than I can. However, he's learned rather early on that if he fakes a limp, and drags his foot when he walks; people pity him and he gets what he wants.
Some of his exploits: (mostly short stories)
1.) A few months back, he got on what we call the AJ kick. For some bleeding reason, he'd decided that he really liked these instant Aunt Jemimia breakfasts. He was eating three of the things at a sitting. Now, sadly, I'm the cause of this. At the time, I was up early after working most of the night on movies; and I found these things convenient when I needed something to eat before crashing for the day. I noticed, after a bit, they were vanishing.
Wal-Mart is about the only place that carries these things. So, on one of my days off, I agreed to take him up there to get some. A normal person, may buy five or six. Maybe ten. My uncle, is not normal. Walking into the store, he DEMANDED of some poor associate that they load every last one of these breakfasts into a cart for him. Some fifty breakfasts all told, of which only thirty really fit into the cart. He had his money ready to pay for them.
Then, he turns to this poor associate and again, demands (not asks) this guy go in the back and bring out more since he's not gotten all he wants.
I forget how it happened, but that associate went to a manager, and the manager rather firmly, but nicely informed my Uncle that he was not allowed to buy more than oh...twenty five of those breakfasts at one time. The uncle glowered, spitted and sputtered, but relented. "Ok." he grumbled. "Then give me twenty five."
Imagine his chagrin to find when we got home that only six fit in the freezer. My father, unwilling to throw out any of our meat, refused to let my uncle put them away. Ultimately, the extras were donated to the church and relatives.
2.) Can I help you?
We've all said this at one point. Typically it means "Hey, I see you're looking somewhat lost. I work here so maybe I know where it's at." not "Hi, my name is Repsac. May I be your personal slave for the day?"
At another grocery store, my uncle was asked if he needed help by a man I'll call S. S is a grocery manager, and really cool at that.
By the time my Uncle was done, he had sent S all over that store on various wild goose chases. Numerous times he asked for products they didn't have or carried; only to tell S when told about the items "GO check in the back. I know you've got stuff hid back there."
My uncle has since been banned from that store for threatening to hit an employee with his cane when told the employee was off the clock and couldn't help him.
3.) Same store, before banning. "The Shrimp Incident."
Shrimp is not cheap. EVER. Whether cooked, fried, boiled, minced, stewed, or shell on. Shrimp is not cheap. My uncle, loves Shrimp. Do you see the problem coming?
Remember I said he was cheap? This particular incident shows that quite well. You see, not only is he cheap, but he NEVER buys any generic products.
Me, I'm not beyond doing so. Heck, sometimes the generic is better, but OH no. Not for him. He has to have the real thing. No matter if it's six times the price of the generic.
During one shopping trip, he decides that he wants some shrimp. Picking up the biggest pack, he tells me in never ending detail how he's going to fix that shrimp for he and my mom. Not my father or I, no, we couldn't touch a bit of it. This continues over and over and over, until we get to the register. Taking a moment, the girl rings us up and then turns to him. "Seventy something" she said, and he blanched. "I only brung Thirty dollars." he says and looks at me as though I should help.
Turning to the cashier, I start digging through things. Pulling out the shrimp, four fresh fish fillets, a bag of fifteen peaches (no lie), and the second case of cokes, I slide that over. "Take those off the bill." I state. He turns to me. "Don't do that. I needs them! I needs thems! THey needs to lower the prices. I knows they can..." I ignored the rant from then on. "Just do it." I tell the cashier. She does, and the price goes down below the thirty he had. Turning to the girl he says dripping with anger. "You keeps that up here. He's coming back for it." with that he waddles out. Looking to the cashier, I smiled some and said. "Put it back. I'm not returning today." and I didn't.
4.) Did I mention he thinks he knows everything? Especially what's legal and what's not.
Two years ago, he decides to go fishing. Ok, that's no big deal really. The problem is, he decides that this nice lake up the road is the one he wants to fish in and wants me to take him up to wal-mart to get some gear. This, I'm cool with. I need a new liscense and some rubber worms myself.
While there I turn to him. "You gonna get your liscense? It's only fourteen bucks and lasts a year." Simple statement right? Heck at that point I'd have paid for his for him. "NO." he says quickly. "I don'ts need one." ok...
Here's the thing. In Mississippi, where he came from, you didn't need a liscense to fish on private property, or to fish with live bait. HOWEVER, that is not the same here in Georgia.
He buys up what he needs and I bring him home. HE takes off to go fishing and I head up to a lake where I have permission. Wonderful place, I've even got the key to the gate and the owner may sell it to me later this month. Been trying to buy it for some time now. Well, while I'm up there fishing, I suddenly hear a siren nearby. Looking up there's a game warden coming down the way. He smiles, asks me for my liscense, which I give him and then nearly fall off the dock when I snagged a good sized bass. Got it to the bank, and then released it. (I love catching them, but not eating them) Turning to the man he hands me the liscense back and then we talk for a bit, and then he leaves.
I'm there maybe another hour or so before heading home. Walking down the street, I get a call from my mum. She says that my uncle is in jail, and she's going to send me with the money to bail him out. In jail? What for?
Well...
Remember that lake he wanted to fish? Yeah. that one? Private property. To make matters worse, he heads down an alleyway cut in the trees by some gentleman for his kids to ride their four wheelers through. This alley, opens up RIGHT behind the man's house. Supposedly, he came home; saw my uncle sitting in a lawn chair behind his house fishing. Approaching my uncle he asked him to leave, was told no, and opted to call the police. That warden who was talking with me, headed up that way.
My uncle was fined about 1500 dollars and lost his fishing equipment for fishing without a liscense. Furthermore, he was charged and convicted of criminal tresspass, banned from that lake by the owner (whose house he was behind), and permanently lost his fishing liscense in the state. I forget the fine he had to pay for the trespass.
The moral of the story? Stupid people shouldn't fish.
. So R proceeds to try to answer her questions.
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