So I'm standing in line at The Dollar Tree. In front of me is a group of 4 overfed adults wearing gaudy jewelry and one adorable thin little girl. The women were all wearing thick makeup, flip flops, and shirts that were at least a size too small for them (but obviously they thought this was sexy). The one male was dressed in designer thug clothing, had the mandatory baseball cap set jauntily to the side, wore the usual large chains and pendants studded with crystals, and his facial hair was trimmed in such an extravagant design as to mark him as "thugalicious".
They were buying 10 large boxes of candy. The cashier was very sweet to them, taking special interest in the girl and chatting with her about the movie they were about to go see as she rang them up. When she hit total, the thug produced his welfare credit card (formerly known as food stamps) and paid for the candy with it. That's when the cashier realized she'd forgotten the little girl's lollipops, so she rang them through, totalled them ($1.07) and that's when one of the porcine women loudly stated "Oh UH uh. I ain't payin fer that fer her out of my OWN money. You jest take it right off."
The cashier, pleasant as ever, said it was no problem and tried to cancel the sale. It wouldn't cancel. So she called over her supervisor who looked over the transaction and apologized but said it had already gone through on their card and there was nothing she could do. Ms. Porcine then said, exasperated, "FINE. Then GIVE me them lollipops" and snatched them from the cashier. Mr. Thugalicious made a dramatic sigh, shook his head, and loudly declared in a paternally disappointed tone "POOR customer service."
At that point I'd had enough.
"REALLY?" I said in my best bored-teenager "are you KIDDING me?" voice, glaring at him.
He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it as he glanced down the long line of people who paid taxes so he could waste his child's food money on candy, and thought better of it. Instead, he did an about-face, and walked out the door.
MY. BLOOD. IS. BOILING.
They were buying 10 large boxes of candy. The cashier was very sweet to them, taking special interest in the girl and chatting with her about the movie they were about to go see as she rang them up. When she hit total, the thug produced his welfare credit card (formerly known as food stamps) and paid for the candy with it. That's when the cashier realized she'd forgotten the little girl's lollipops, so she rang them through, totalled them ($1.07) and that's when one of the porcine women loudly stated "Oh UH uh. I ain't payin fer that fer her out of my OWN money. You jest take it right off."
The cashier, pleasant as ever, said it was no problem and tried to cancel the sale. It wouldn't cancel. So she called over her supervisor who looked over the transaction and apologized but said it had already gone through on their card and there was nothing she could do. Ms. Porcine then said, exasperated, "FINE. Then GIVE me them lollipops" and snatched them from the cashier. Mr. Thugalicious made a dramatic sigh, shook his head, and loudly declared in a paternally disappointed tone "POOR customer service."
At that point I'd had enough.
"REALLY?" I said in my best bored-teenager "are you KIDDING me?" voice, glaring at him.
He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it as he glanced down the long line of people who paid taxes so he could waste his child's food money on candy, and thought better of it. Instead, he did an about-face, and walked out the door.
MY. BLOOD. IS. BOILING.
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