Every salesperson's inner rage caused by annoying customers can only be understood by those of us whom have toiled in the retail trenches.
I am a retail salesperson, God help my eternal soul. I make money selling goods and/or services to people shopping in my store. This money allows me to purchase food, shelter, and the necessities of life. Any moment wasted not selling is bad because the store doesn't make money (which threatens my job) and my boss hates me because I'm not moving over-priced pieces o' retail crap.
You, the professional time waster, have obviously made the assumption that since I am freely approachable by the public, the right and privilege to constantly engage me in lengthy pointless conversations is yours without question.
This assumption is incorrect.
I do not want to talk to you unless a relatively painless sales transaction is in the near future. Remember: I only want to sell inventory for money because money keeps me alive by purchasing foodstuffs that I cram down my throat. Therefore your continuous waste of my time is, in effect, slowly and painfully killing me.
I sincerely do not want to die by starvation or from listening to you ramble on and on and on about nothing while buying nothing. Dear Sir or Madam Time Waster, please let me make this fact perfectly clear to you:
Just because I work in a retail store does not make me your friend.
Perhaps I should repeat myself:
Just because I work in a retail store does not make me your friend.
The only store sign a salesperson truly wishes they could use in the workplace.
And yet I still sense confusion on your part, probably because you are a selfish creature taking advantage of a salesperson's professional politeness. Yes, I talk to people... but that's because I have to talk to people in my capacity as said professional salesperson. And, yes, I do engage in friendly chit-chat... but only to warm people up for the final sale. But, honestly, I really don't like talking to people and I really don't like talking to you and:
Just because I work in a retail store does not make me your friend.
The main problem we share is YOU, the world's number one NON-customer. On more than one occasion you have entered my store and wasted my time in idle banter while purchasing absolutely bupkis.
Oh, sure, you ask a lot of questions about what we sell. Questions, questions, questions. Never-ending, unprofitable, idiotic questions about our stores' retail products only a brainless rock would ask:
"How much is it?", you inquire while the over-sized price tag is clearly visible to everyone in a five mile radius.
"Gee, sir, I don't know how much this blender costs, as I am illiterate. Let me check with the manager. By the way, there's a LensCrafters next door, jus' sayin'."
"Why isn't it on sale?" Because it was on sale LAST MONTH when you could have bought it, but of course, did not. And you were in the store every day for the past three months, too.
"What do I do with it?" I'll tell you what to do with "it": SHOVE "IT" UP YOUR GODDAMN CHEAP-ASS SPHINCTER AND PRESS THE "ON" BUTTON.
Your questions, a transparent excuse to visit my store just to talk to me in order to fill your otherwise empty life, invariably devolve into incredibly inappropriate and embarrassing tales told in a loud booming voice guaranteed to scare away the real, paying customers. And such fascinating anecdotes they are!
Who wouldn't want to experience the audible torture of listening to nearly incoherent musings about:
- philosophy,
- flying squirrels,
- cocktail wieners,
- Elon Musk's current haircut,
- fear of bats,
- windshield wiper fluid,
- your favorite 'My Little Pony' memes,
- how sticky the store's price tags are when trying to remove them,
- fur-bearing Arctic tarantulas,
- What shapes the clouds made last Tuesday,
- salivating St. Bernards,
- etcetera,
- etcetera,
- ET-FUCKING-ETCETERA.
Let's get one cold hard FACT perfectly clear, Oh Ye Accursed Time Waster Who Doth Waste My Precious Time:
I do not care about you, your problems, or your life.
I will break down the above statement into two basic points since you are stupid:
One, I do not care about you because I have grown to hate you deep within my professional salesperson's soul.
Two, I do not care about your problems because your problems are NOT my problems, no matter how many times you inform me OF your problems.
No doubt you are offended by these words, Time Waster Posing as a Customer, and at this very moment are bleating pitiful sheep-like protests of emotional injury & pain. Know that I do not, nor ever will, sympathize with you or your precious feelings.
Since we both know you will never, ever buy anything from this store, any complaints to me or my boss will only lead to utter failure because, again:
I do not care about you, your problems, or your life.
And my annoyed manager hates your guts, too. But their sweaty hatred is secondary to my own because:
I do not care about you, your problems, or your life.
Note that I have repeated this most important of facts three times as this technique just might make you understand what I'm saying without assaulting you with a hammer.
"Ask me again if we have pliers in the color of fuschia. I dare you. I double-dog dare you!"
But who needs a hammer? I am very close to attacking you physically with my bare hands or whatever retail sales item is immediately at hand, even if said object happens to be a box full of fragile crystal unicorn figurines. And while I obviously do not care about your well-being, I do care about being charged with a murder rap and going to jail for an act that, ironically, would only serve to better the entire Human race.
In conclusion, dear Sir or Madame, for professional, legal and moral reasons I most sincerely and seriously say to you now:
Leave this humble retail establishment, now and forever, or I may very well grab your scrawny chicken-like neck and strangle the sweet, sweet life-providing oxygen out of you.
Thank you for shopping at __________________________.
No, you can't use that coupon here. That's for a discount on haircuts, we're not the barber's shop, that's next door.
You already know this fact.
Now, Get Out Of My Store.
Get Out.
GET.
OUT.
Have A Nice Day.
Only in retail sales can a person learn the true meaning of Hate. Or, in Old Latin: "Solum in venditionibus minoristis potest homo veram significationem Odii discere." I'm going to have that slogan put on my family coat of arms.