I Almost Posted This Last Night...

...but I didn't because I had a headache. You know how I was all feeling like crap and was dreading going to work? I felt terrible all evening. To make it worse, I was closing the Target Cafe instead of Starbucks. To make it even worse than that, every single customer I had was a damn jackass.

At one point, I'm busy panning pizzas for the next day's use. I see a woman approach the counter. I smile at her and say "Hi! I'll be with you in just a moment, hon." I begin peeling off my plastic gloves and head for a sink to wash my hands really quickly. I take two steps and hear a whistle. Not like a 'you're cute' whistle, but a 'I'm gonna call my dog' whistle. I stop and turn and look at this broad. She glares at me expectantly. At this point, I'm fairly certain I could have lost my job if I had done what I wanted to do, which was refuse the woman service and tell her that I'm not her damn dog.

Instead, I walked over to the counter with the most condescending smile I could. I took her order for a pretzel and a soda. When I handed the items to her, she was all "Eeew, why is this cup all oily?!"

My response? "Well ma'am, I'd gotten some vegetable oil on myself while I was panning pizzas. I was going to wash my hands up so this wouldn't have happened, but I also respect that you were in a hurry to get your purchase."

Broad glares at me and storms away. That felt good at least.

Later on, three kids show up-- little high school broad who, I'm sorry, has to have some kind of eating disorder or is on some kind of drug because people are not naturally that skinny. Bitch was gaunt!-- and her two male friends. They're rude to me from the start ("Well can't you CUSTOM make a pizza? No? Well that's gay"), then they finally place their order for a pizza, a pretzel, and two small icees. I place the cups on the counter in front of them. One of the guys, who is leaning against the counter with his back to me, doesn't even look at me as he just thrusts the money over his shoulder into my face.

Seriously?

I look at the money, then at the guy. I don't move to take the money. He turns and glares at me, then waves the money at my face. I take it. More condescending smiles from me. I give him his change and start getting the pizza and pretzel.

And then I hear it. The incredulous conversation begins. "THIS is a small icee?! This thing is tiny!" "I could get a large one for cheaper at a gas station!" "I didn't know they were this small!"

Okay, I'm just going to address those separately.

1. Yes, the small icee (and small soda, because we use the same cups for both) are very small. This is to encourage people to get a larger size.
2. Yes, you could get a larger one for about the same price or cheaper at a gas station. However, it's kind of like when you go to a theater. Because you're already there and there isn't any competition, Target can set whatever prices they want because they basically have a monopoly on all products and items in that store. This isn't hard to understand. I don't make the prices. Target does, because they can get away with it, and people pay them.
3. No. There is no way in Hell that you didn't realize that they were that small. Not only are the cup sizes shown in illustrations on the order boards, they're on display in the form of the three sizes sitting on the counter on display right in front of you. Now either you HAD to know that the cups were that small, OR you just weren't paying a damned ounce of attention because you stupid children were high out of your damned minds. Be honest.

At any rate, I get the pizza and the pretzel for the rude teens, only to see the guy who'd paid for everything standing at the counter, glaring at me, holding the cups in question. "I want my money back for these! This is a ripoff!" he says loudly, practically yelling in my face. I just shrug, place the food items down on the counter, take the cups back (And he looks shocked that I plucked them from his hands; did he think that I was going to let him keep the cups to get icees in AND get his money back?), and give him his $2.78 back.

Every single customer I had was like that. Assholes. Jerks. Rude. Whatever you want to call it. And because everyone was difficult, I fell further and further behind in my closing duties. The person who closes the Cafe is supposed to be out of there by 8:30 at the latest. I was there until almost 10.

I really hate people a lot. So I guess all I'm really trying to say here is, be kind to the person who you go to for service-- be it going to a restaurant, talking to your bank teller, paying your cable bill-- whatever. Don't be the jackass customer that people have to write a rant about.