This story comes from when I was working at Cherries. So i'm chilling out, doing my sandwich making thing when in walks this creepy, tiny, rat faced woman, staring round like she was off her tits on mdma or whatever. Basically she looked like one of those customers that makes you immediately go 'Oh fuck, please don't make me serve this crazy mother fucker.'
I ask her if I can take her order and instead of giving me the order she proceeds to eye fuck the shit out of me for a good minute straight. Now I enjoy a good eye fucking as much as the next person, but not from crazy, rat looking mother fuckers like her. Eventually she says 'You look like an old classmate of mine.' 'From your group therapy in the mental hospital you obviously escaped from.''Ok....' 'Her name was Susan.' 'Well I'm definately not Susan, my name is Thomas and I'm relatively sure I'm a man.' 'Are you sure you're not Susan? You look an awful lot like her.' (Still eye fucking the shit out of me, by the way.) 'Definately not Susan, sorry.' 'You're playing a prank on me, aren't you Susan?' 'Oh, you got me, yep, I'm Susan, let's run off back to the funny farm and pretend we're Hitler like old times.' She's so adamant that I must be Susan I start to wonder if this isn't the beginning of some shitty M Night Shyamalan movie where it turns out I was actually Susan all along, but had been in some sort of accident that erased my memory. So I eventually convince her I'm not Susan, even though she still seems pretty dubious, give her her sandwich and she fucks off.
Fast forward to a couple of months later and I'm happily working in NISA. She starts coming into the shop, freaking people out by just being a fucking weirdo, but luckily everytime she came in I saw her before she saw me, so I could pretend I needed to do something important and then run and hide up the back. My co-workers understood though, as we all had at least one customer we tried to actively avoid. There was one woman in particular we all hated. I won't rip on her too much, as her heart was in the right place. It was just a shame the features on her face weren't. Anyway, she had these three kids, how she got them, fuck knows, probably stole them from an orphanage like the BFG or some shit. You would know the second she entered the shop because the one that she pushed round in a pram would start screaming it's head off. This little bastard would not stop for the entire time she was in the shop, and she used to spend fucking ages just wandering round and gawping at stuff. The other two that could walk she just left to roam free around the shop. These little fuckers would sprint round the shop, run behind the deli, run behind the kiosk, just be little shits. The temptation to brain the wee cunts was overriding, but unfortunately we couldn't touch the little fuckers. There was one lad that I got on with rather well who worked the deli. She took a real shine to this poor bastard. Somehow, she got a hold of his phone number. He insists she sent one of her kids behind the deli counter to read it off a sheet, but i'm not convinced. So she starts texting him all this stuff like 'I'm in the bath and bored, what are you up to?' at first he would politely decline her advances, but eventaully just text her something along the lines of 'You're obviously not getting the message. Fuck off and leave me alone. Please.' Then I think one of the supervisors banned her from the store because she kept coming in and asking him why he wasn't texting her anymore.
The End.
I realise these stories start strong but end pretty badly, so any suggestions for how to fix that would be much appreciated.
NB: To clarify, while I was working at Cherries and had this encounter I did look like this:
(I tried to find a slightly more flattering picture, as I know girls read this, but then I realised that I look like a twat with that hair irrelevant of what my face is doing.) (Also, before people start gagging at the thought of finding one of those badboys in their sandwich, I did have to tie it back when I was working. Used to wear a backwards baseball cap as well, just to really hammer home the whole 'prick' vibe.)
No comments:
Post a Comment