PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: When you treat retail employees like shit, you become an instant joke. You are the story they tell over coffee to make their friends and family laugh at the idiot. You are the person they mimic in a squeaky voice.
Next time you want to yell at a retail employee, imagine them repeating what you are about to say in a squeaky voice. Because that will be your legacy.
Reminds me of a thing that happened me once.
So, I do three day LARP events in the U.K. Before we mostly transitioned to grudging and reluctant car owners, there used to be a whole bunch of us travelled over together from Ireland on Irish Ferries rail and sail ticket, Dublin to Derby return for about €90, which given train prices in Britain is a steal.
At the end of the event, we’d all be exhausted, unshowered, muddy, with traces of face paint or latex, looking ever so slightly post apocalyptic in our combat boots and occasional bits of armour or cloaks that didn’t fit in our backpacks.
So there I was on a train, unwashed, sunburned, greasy hair, wearing the grubby clothes I’d taken down my tent in. I wasn’t in the mood for other humans so I sat away from the rest of the LARPers and read my book.
Some fella gets on, asks if he can sit beside me. I vaguely register his presence and shrug, because it’s a free seat and a free country. (I didn’t realise there were loads of double seats free at the time. Train creep red flag there.)
So I’m reading my book and he starts talking, like
“Is that a good book?”
and I’m like “Yes.”
And I go back to reading it. After he makes a couple more attempts at a chat I say “Look, I’m sorry but I don’t really want to talk; I’d just like to read my book thanks.”
Well, the fucker is personally offended by the fact that I’m not riveted by his winning personality and he starts whinging, and I ignore him or give one syllable answers, and then he starts trying to annoy me. Like, singing Elvis songs at me. So I keep ignoring and he keeps being a petty little fuckmuppet, and eventually I snap at him to stop trying to talk to me.
And he says “Why, what are you going to do about it?”
Now, I will always regret that having been fed a straight line like that, I froze, a million comebacks coming to mind and then discarded. Do I say “It’s not me you need to worry about mate,” and ask all the LARPers to stand up? Does that imply I need other people to defend me?
So while I’m trying to work out what to say that will hurt his feelings the most, he huffs and says “oh, you’ll probably stab me or something, I’ll just go!”
And then he fucks off down the other end of the carriage, and I try to keep reading but my adrenaline is up now and I can’t, so I go down to the others and stand in the aisle, telling them about this pathetic fuckwit with no manners who thought he was entitled to my time and attention.
And as I start taking, I can see a reflection in the window near me. The fucker moved down this end of the carriage, and can hear every word I’m saying. I got to watch him cringe and try to burrow down inside his coat as I mocked him mercilessly to the eight to twelve people who all laughed at him with me.
And that was probably one of the most deeply emotionally satisfying moments of my life.