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Okay lady, I know batteries can be incredibly confusing, but honestly? I don't think you need to get help from my male co-worker instead of me just so you'll get the right size for your remote control which you, by the way, brought with you just to make sure you get the right size.
Batteries are not hard to understand in this world. I've been buying literally thousands of them since I got my first MP3 player back when I was a teenager, I know what size you need. I can seriously just open one of the packages and stick em in there, just to be even more sure! And no, it doesn't help when you say "I'm sorry, but I just think he knows more than you." Thanks for trying anyway.
And Dear Lottery Lady: I know what the hell I'm doing, I've been doing this for 3 years now and it's not as scary as rocket science anymore. So yes, when I tell you that these are being tracked by the lottery company because you've got your card provided by said company so that it's easier for everyone, I'd like to think I'm right.
Wanna know why I think I'm right? Because I swiped the card before I put your nifty little lottery coupon through the machine. Also, the comment "Alright, I guess I believe you, but if we miss our chance at [whatever amount it was], you're going to burn in hell!"
I was actually quite dumbfounded at that, your teenage daughter however? She wanted to die, then and there. She stared at you and said "Mom! What the fuck are you saying?" You looked a bit dumbfounded as well, as if you didn't quite realize what you just had said to me. Like it just slipped out on accident, like you accidently slipping out of your dress on prom night.
Props to you for realizing that you crossed the line and apologizing. I still have no respect whatsoever for you though.
Just a heads up to all customers, mostly to the druggies and alcoholics though:
I get it, you see me on my register first because it's the closest to the entrance, but guess what? I got a freaking line here, mister. That means that you can't just walk up to my register and put some money on the counter and say "Red Marlboros." Especially not when one of the nicer customers I know is in the middle of paying!
So I give you a are-you-fucking-kidding-me? stare and tell you, in the sweetest voice ever, that you need to get in line as well. What do you do in such a situation? Well, of course you flip me off and tell me I'm a raging cunt, that's the only way to get your way right?
My awesome co-worker T, who looks hella mean and I was seriously scared of him when I first started there, just laughed at you and asked if you felt better now that you had just flipped off a 20 year old girl. I'm sure that's something you went and told your lil' buddies about right away. I wouldn't know since you're now banned from the store.
Sorry for this wall off text, but I just needed to vent. Hope it all makes sense, I've barely gotten any sleep for a few days now
Batteries are not hard to understand in this world. I've been buying literally thousands of them since I got my first MP3 player back when I was a teenager, I know what size you need. I can seriously just open one of the packages and stick em in there, just to be even more sure! And no, it doesn't help when you say "I'm sorry, but I just think he knows more than you." Thanks for trying anyway.
And Dear Lottery Lady: I know what the hell I'm doing, I've been doing this for 3 years now and it's not as scary as rocket science anymore. So yes, when I tell you that these are being tracked by the lottery company because you've got your card provided by said company so that it's easier for everyone, I'd like to think I'm right.
Wanna know why I think I'm right? Because I swiped the card before I put your nifty little lottery coupon through the machine. Also, the comment "Alright, I guess I believe you, but if we miss our chance at [whatever amount it was], you're going to burn in hell!"
I was actually quite dumbfounded at that, your teenage daughter however? She wanted to die, then and there. She stared at you and said "Mom! What the fuck are you saying?" You looked a bit dumbfounded as well, as if you didn't quite realize what you just had said to me. Like it just slipped out on accident, like you accidently slipping out of your dress on prom night.
Props to you for realizing that you crossed the line and apologizing. I still have no respect whatsoever for you though.
Just a heads up to all customers, mostly to the druggies and alcoholics though:
I get it, you see me on my register first because it's the closest to the entrance, but guess what? I got a freaking line here, mister. That means that you can't just walk up to my register and put some money on the counter and say "Red Marlboros." Especially not when one of the nicer customers I know is in the middle of paying!
So I give you a are-you-fucking-kidding-me? stare and tell you, in the sweetest voice ever, that you need to get in line as well. What do you do in such a situation? Well, of course you flip me off and tell me I'm a raging cunt, that's the only way to get your way right?
My awesome co-worker T, who looks hella mean and I was seriously scared of him when I first started there, just laughed at you and asked if you felt better now that you had just flipped off a 20 year old girl. I'm sure that's something you went and told your lil' buddies about right away. I wouldn't know since you're now banned from the store.
Sorry for this wall off text, but I just needed to vent. Hope it all makes sense, I've barely gotten any sleep for a few days now
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