Tuesday, October 19, 2004

For the life of me, I can't understand what makes a person with money think they can treat someone else like shit.

This 60-ish year-old cunt comes in to return a coaxial cable. Box is open, bits of chocolate and cat hair on it, the part of the box that identifies the cable is missing and the receipt is split in two and oblierated. All I do is squint at the receipt to try and make out the stock number so I can return the right thing and she intones, "Oh, they told me [really shrill, mocking voice] 'You won't have any problem returning this if it's wrong.'"

Then she gives me a huge amount of attitude when she mumbles her last name from across the room when I'm typing up the return like I'm an idiot for not understanding her. THEN she starts talking about how Rockport has a tornado warning. I ignore her. She then intones "...but you don't care, do you?" in a spectacularly sarcastic tone.

No lady, at this point I could give two shits if you tell me you were going to buy 4 cellphones and I just missed $100 in commission. Fuck you, fuck your coastal address, I hope some roving band of kidney thieves light your eyebrows on fire and while it's happening a giraffe skull fucks you.

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