I’m a firm believer that the way that you treat strangers is a huge reflection on yourself.
One of my biggest pet peeve are the “type” of people that you just know are always complaining about everything. The ones that freak out at the little things whether it be at a store, restaurant, or wherever else. I can spot this “type” from a mile away.
Today I was looking for a new pair of shoes at the Macy’s at Lenox square. I’d found a pair of shoes and had brought my shoe to the customer service representative at the counter so I could get it’s mate. She scanned the shoe and said that it would be out in a few minutes after the person in the back found it. Not a problem.
I sat down by the register and patiently waited for my shoe to arrive. While sitting there, I noticed that she was the only person working in that area and was helping quite a few people at once – probably about four. I definitely could see she was flustered but composed and trying to make the best out of her situation (clearly something that wasn’t her choosing).
A minute or so later, an early 30’s woman walked up to the register at the same time the customer service woman got a text that my shoes (as well as some other customer’s) were ready and she needed to go get them. “I’ll be right back, I have to go grab these shoes from the person in the back and then I will process your return.” she said to the early 30’s woman.
“Um, are you the only one working here” the woman asked.
“There is another girl but I don’t know where she is right this second.” the salesperson explained.
Oh no. I thought. Here we go.
Less than a minute later (probably 30 seconds) the salesperson returned with my other shoe and another lady’s. She handed them to us to try on and returned to the register to assist the clearly pissed other customer with her return.
“I need to speak with a manager right now,” the lady snarked.
Double oh no. I’m standing right behind her in line.
She calls a manager who promptly comes to the register. He gets up to the register and before he has a chance to say a word the early 30’s rudely blurts out “Is she supposed to just leave me here when I need help?”
Queue manager’s confused but kind look.
“She just left me to go do other things while I’m trying to make a return.” early 30’s explained.
“Ma’am, I told you I would be right back because I was already assisting several other customers and had to quickly grab their shoes from the back,” the saleswoman calmly explains.
“No – that’s not what you said.”
Me – inside at this point, dying.
The manager attempts to calm the situation. I’m sure he could see my eyes rolling into my brain and my facial expressions from behind this beast.
She keeps going and going.
OK, that’s it…”Sir, she was helping several people all by herself and was clearly trying to do a lot of things at once, she’s just really busy,” I say.
I’m not going to let this woman get in trouble because this lady is so entitled that she had to wait 30 seconds for service. That’s just not right in my opinion.
“WHO ARE YOU, DID I ASK FOR YOUR OPINION?” the beast asks.
“No, I was just telling the manager the situation, that’s all. She is obviously really busy and doing the best she can,” I explain.
“You’re just a customer!” the beast says…
“So are you…” I say dumbfounded.
Key other customer dying inside and giving me the “glad you stood up for the sales lady” stare. We share a moment of glory inside.
“Well I’m paying for a service,” the beast says…again, I’m dumbfounded. This isn’t really paying for a service. It’s shopping not dining at a restaurant or getting a haircut. Mouth is shut, I’m done. I said what I wanted to the manager.
“YOU ARE TRASH, LOOK AT YOU, YOU ARE TRASH…TRASH TRASH TRASH” says the beast.
Well that escalated quickly. What had I said that was so wrong? Sure it wasn’t my conversation but I didn’t interrupt and she was basically screaming at the manager so that half the store knew what was going on. It wasn’t exactly a private exchange.
“TRASH” she keeps saying as she glares at me. I feel like she is trying to steal my soul so I stop making eye-contact. I’ll need that at some point.
I managed to muster out a firm “Bless your heart” to which she didn’t respond…she obviously isn’t from the South because I’m sure I would have gotten another earful.
It gets better. The beast then starts complaining to the manager that her feet were spilling out of the sides of the Jessica Simpson shoes she was returning and she wants to know why they don’t fit.
I’m dying even more inside. I just CAN’T.
She has big wide feet…problem solved. They don’t fit. Get over it. I have wide feet and can’t wear certain shoes due to this. It’s not a big deal, you just have to find one that works. The shoe, after all, doesn’t ALWAYS FIT. This is preposterous to her. They should fit her foot. She wants to talk to the manufacturer. Probably to Jessica Simpson herself. She can’t be tamed. The manager is obviously dumbfounded as well and is doing a great job trying to not tell her that her foot is just fat.
About 5 minutes later of this mess, she leaves.
Thank GOD. I can finally get checked out and be out of the beast’s presence.
I check out, and tell the saleswoman she was doing a great job and that I just wanted to ensure she wouldn’t get in trouble. I’d been in her shoes serving many a time and it’s a really crappy situation to be in.
I’m leaving with my shoes. GLORY! That was crazy.
The beast pops out of nowhere – she was WAITING FOR ME.
Oh no. This is where I get stabbed.
“EXCCCUUUUSSSSEEE ME…WE NEED TO TALK,” the beast points her chunky fingers at my face.
I got a big cup of NOPE for this. “Sorry, we don’t have anything to discuss, have a nice night,” I calmly explain.
“NO YOUUUUU need to stay out of my business and not butt into other people’s conversations.”
I’m still walking and she’s following. A group of girls look at me and are making sure I’m not about to get stabbed by the beast.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to explain the situation because she didn’t need to get in trouble when she was clearly doing her best. I didn’t interrupt, I just had to tell the manager something as well,” I say.
Beast is still following me screaming. TRASH TRASH TRASH, other insults, etc.
The nice group of girls shield me and we walk out together. She finally stops following me.
To me, this was a good example of standing up for what’s right. I couldn’t sit there and listen to this lady beat down the saleswoman for no reason. Maybe I should not have said anything. Maybe it was not my place to speak up, but the fact of the matter is that I did and I will.
I will always stand up in situations like that. That’s me.