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When you see this man at any of the three locally placed same-name stores (anywhere from 12:00 a.m. midnight to 3 a.m. in the morn) you know what is about to happen, have your walkie ready, and prepare to be rude on purpose.
Why?
My first experience with this man was thus. I see an older gentleman in the snack aisle with me, I nod hello as he is too far away without shouting HEY THERE HOW ARE YOU TONIGHT?! He has on a driver's cap, a small white ponytail that's nearly not there, saggy skin hanging over the bones on his arms and legs, but has a beer gut. I figure he is one of the local drunks looking for a cheap snack, but no.
He's looking for a victim.
He saunters over and asks me how my diabetes is.
Wha...
Me: I'm sorry, sir, you must have me mistaken as I--
DC: No no, it's fine. I can see how hard it is to get in the sun since you work the graveyard.
Me: TO be honest, I am allergi--
DC: The sun can cure your diabetes, you know. It did mine. Took my toes before I could get enough sun, though. Did you know that I haven't eaten meat in over 40 years? Yep. Sun and vegan diets *grabs a package of Jello lime and some Ritz* will cure everything under the great (deity)'s green surface. Not the blue, though.
Me: Uh huh... well, if there's anything I can help you with, please let me know!
I turn back to my shelf capping.
DC: Some sun would help that large vein in your neck, too. You must have cancer in the heart as well, or just too full of fat.
Now hold on here. I'm 5'4'' and 150lbs. of muscle and normale female fat stacks.
Me: I'm sorry, I'm sure I didn't catch that. Could you repeat?
DC: All that fat on your gut and legs, girl. It must be hard to walk. Is the diabetes taking your foot, too?
Me: Sir, I *pounds leg HARD* am loaded with heavy muscle and tough skin. I do NOT *pounds stomach* have diabetes, and I do NOT *hits above the boob zone* have cancer. I am allergic to the sun, and if you do NOT *picks up walkie* walk away from me, right now, I will have you forcibly removed and banned for the night. Third shift does NOT tolerate associate abuse from customers.
DC: Now hold on, there, girl.
Me: *in walkie* Management be aware in aisle 12 the driver cap fleeing me as he has been verbally obstructive to my work progress
He was walk-chased out of the store by the other associates who heard me pound myself and raise my voice.
He has been back to mine, but never talks more than politeness demands.
./sunglasses
EDIT: My co-worker helping me recall this reminded me to add that everyone else in the store had been dealing with him for years, and no one had ever bothered to make him back-off before. I'd also like to note he caught me having a bad week -_-
Why?
My first experience with this man was thus. I see an older gentleman in the snack aisle with me, I nod hello as he is too far away without shouting HEY THERE HOW ARE YOU TONIGHT?! He has on a driver's cap, a small white ponytail that's nearly not there, saggy skin hanging over the bones on his arms and legs, but has a beer gut. I figure he is one of the local drunks looking for a cheap snack, but no.
He's looking for a victim.
He saunters over and asks me how my diabetes is.
Wha...
Me: I'm sorry, sir, you must have me mistaken as I--
DC: No no, it's fine. I can see how hard it is to get in the sun since you work the graveyard.
Me: TO be honest, I am allergi--
DC: The sun can cure your diabetes, you know. It did mine. Took my toes before I could get enough sun, though. Did you know that I haven't eaten meat in over 40 years? Yep. Sun and vegan diets *grabs a package of Jello lime and some Ritz* will cure everything under the great (deity)'s green surface. Not the blue, though.
Me: Uh huh... well, if there's anything I can help you with, please let me know!
I turn back to my shelf capping.
DC: Some sun would help that large vein in your neck, too. You must have cancer in the heart as well, or just too full of fat.
Now hold on here. I'm 5'4'' and 150lbs. of muscle and normale female fat stacks.
Me: I'm sorry, I'm sure I didn't catch that. Could you repeat?
DC: All that fat on your gut and legs, girl. It must be hard to walk. Is the diabetes taking your foot, too?
Me: Sir, I *pounds leg HARD* am loaded with heavy muscle and tough skin. I do NOT *pounds stomach* have diabetes, and I do NOT *hits above the boob zone* have cancer. I am allergic to the sun, and if you do NOT *picks up walkie* walk away from me, right now, I will have you forcibly removed and banned for the night. Third shift does NOT tolerate associate abuse from customers.
DC: Now hold on, there, girl.
Me: *in walkie* Management be aware in aisle 12 the driver cap fleeing me as he has been verbally obstructive to my work progress
He was walk-chased out of the store by the other associates who heard me pound myself and raise my voice.
He has been back to mine, but never talks more than politeness demands.
./sunglasses
EDIT: My co-worker helping me recall this reminded me to add that everyone else in the store had been dealing with him for years, and no one had ever bothered to make him back-off before. I'd also like to note he caught me having a bad week -_-
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