Two-Headed Boy: Customers Do The Darndest Things

First off, customers are the reason I have a job in the first place. Every time they buy a new neon tank top, their money becomes part of the paltry sum that ends up in my bank account every second Friday — soon to be blown on Strohs and foolish t-shirt purchases.

They also provide conversation to make a shift more enjoyable and a chance for me to chat up prospective Two-Headed Girls (see earlier post). To make fun of them would be biting the hand.

But, man, people are weird.

Bombarded with such a large amount of humanity everyday, you’re bound to see some strange stuff happen — or at least contract h1n1. Here are some highlights so far.

Toddler Love

Little kids are a constant destructive force. Comedian and funny-voice advocate Nick Swardson once noted that a baby is like “the smallest, drunkest person you’ve ever seen in your life.” They are constantly crawling, climbing and just messing things up.

My first day of work was Black Friday, the busiest retail day of the year. Entering the store, I witnessed a mannequin fall on a hapless toddler. I still fantasize about a slow-motion slide to push the tot out of harm’s way and catch the expensive mannequin. I would have been a made man at The Clothing Store.

Children aren’t always caustic though. I was hanging out in the fitting room, only to see a small child, around 9 years old, face-to-face with his reflection in a nearby mirror. Soon he locks lips with his reflection, and begins to make out with himself. This is not Grandma’s kiss on Christmas — this is a full-blown make out session, around 22 seconds. Left behind as evidence for me to show my co-workers is an eight-inch horizontal smudge of saliva.

Was this kid’s behavior really a bad thing? A little self-confidence goes a long way. Aren’t we concerned with the self-esteem of youngers anyway? This kid is a pioneer. Maybe his dad was doing the same thing in the fitting room.

The Peach

One of my pet peeves is a late shopper. Some customers like to show up minutes before store close and trot around the store. They are so V.I.P! The store is empty, totally just for them!

Late one night, a diverse crop of well-dressed male shoppers swarmed to me, kind of like a multi-racial boy band. As they parted like a well-accessorized sea, a tiny female reminiscent of Lady Gaga (Ga-gish?) emerged.

“Do you have any T-shirts for The Peach?” the leader of the entourage inquired.

It didn’t take long to conclude that this girl was The Peach.

“Um, we have lots of great shirts? This one’s pretty cool”

“Do you have this shirt in The Peach’s size?”

“Um, we have these shirts in lots of sizes. Probably Peach size.”

The Peach and her entourage walked around the store, eventually buying some items. Soon they were off to go eat dinner. I could imagine the scene.

“Do you have any complimentary bread sticks for The Peach?”

I still wonder to this day who or what was The Peach. Maybe The Peach is just a frame of mind. Maybe The Peach is a way of looking at the world. Maybe these people were just friends and enjoyed messing with me. In that case — touché.

Selective Pricing

A flustered gentleman entered my store with his wife a few days ago, reminiscent of an Indian Richard Dreyfuss. He asked for a pair of jeans that were on display in a store window. I couldn’t think of the pair he described, but took him to where all the jeans are in hopes to find what he wanted.

“I want these,” he said. “For $19.95.”

He didn’t want certain size, or a specific color. He wanted them for $19.95, actual price $39.95.

When I told him he couldn’t have them for that price, he was upset and stormed out. He re-appeared, grabbing a pair of pants and bringing them to my manager. He pointed back at me, mouthing furiously.

He told my manager that I told him he could have the pants for $19.95, so my word should be a guarantee. This never happened. Finally his ornery filibuster ended and he purchased the pants for full-price.

This is an interesting way of viewing the world. See that car? Five bucks. That sandwich you’re eating? I’ll give you a dollar. The shoes on your feet? How about seven Sour Patch Kids.

I wonder if a customer out there keeps a blog on kooky retail worker encounters.

Who am I to talk though? I’m not the most normal guy out there anyway. I recently began to grow an awesome mustache. A lot of customers stare, or strike up a humorous mustache-oriented conversation. I look like a cross between John Holmes and Colonel Sanders. More on that later though…

by Two-Headed Boy