Ah, Retail. What a fickle broad. On the one hand, it can be one of the most fun jobs to have, and on the other.... there's fucking CUSTOMERS. C'est la vie.
Let me tell you a tale of Monday night. My store is currently without two of our five managers, as we are waiting on a new Store Manager, and the manager who works directly under me is out on sick leave. So, we're short handed. Which is why the Lord of the Monkeys has been working six days a week, sometimes 10-12 hour days lately.
Which has made him understandably a tad loopy. But, little did I know, it's also made my CUSTOMERS loopy!
So, back to Monday night. I got to work at around 12, and had no other managers there after around 4. In fact, in our huge store, thanks to corporate cutting hours, there was just ME, a CASHIER, and a Pet Care person in the store, and that's IT. Which means even more work for everyone. But I digress.
In (National Chain of Pet Specialty Stores), there is a veterinary clinic run by a vet company in every store. Well, Monday night around 5 pm, the office manager of said vet clinic called me over to her counter very loudly, as I just happened to be walking by.
"Hey", said she, "I think that kid just walked out the front door without paying for his stuff!"
A SHOPLIFTER! The game was afoot! I remember fondly busting shoplifters at the old LCS (including one time when a scumbag got away, but I got his girl, his drugs, and his Lollapalooza tickets!), so I was instantly brought alert. The path said shoplifter had been taking had him riding his bike right past the vet clinic's door, so all I had to do was walk out the door, and he ran right into me, while I grabbed his handlebars. He looked all of nine, and pouted immediately, clutching a 25 dollar hamster cage (why the fuck would someone steal that? Does he have a hamster running freerange at home? Mysteries Abound!) under his arm.
"Hey, young man, can you show me your reciept for that?", I asked.
"Then, can I have my cage back?"
Then I began telling the young man what'd happen if I ever see his face in my store again. About two minutes into it, he began to cry profusely.
Nothing wakes you up and makes you feel alive like the tears of the underage lawbreaker, and I know JUST how evil that sounds, so shut the hell up, thank you very much.
Well, that was just the opening shot. About 45 minutes later, I get a phone call from a hysterical woman. She's crying so bad, I can't barely understand her. It takes almost ten minutes, but I get her calm enough to explain the problem. She has a 7 foot pet python. "He loves me, he's TOTALLY tame, he even sometimes sleeps in bed with me..."
Ok, I wonder, what's the problem?
"But he just ate my chihuahua!"
Fuck. That's a problem!
"What should I do with him? Should I kill him myself, or just let him go in the Everglades?"
Well, you can do that if you like, ma'am, but you'll likely be arrested and sent to jail for a number of years. It's against the law to release a wild animal into the Everglades.
"He's not a wild animal, though, he's a pet!"
Er, sure.... but be that as it may, he's a non-native species, and that's very against the law.
"He's not a non-native, I bought him here in Florida!"
You know what? Just call Animal Control, they'll come take him off your hands. Have a good night.
And things only got weirder. From the fish tank and stand that we sold that I then discovered did NOT fit out the front doors, to the homeless guy who went down on his knees in the parking lot and began WORSHIPPING THE SUN.... Monday was a wacky night!
(The Lord of the Monkeys wishes to stress that EVERY SINGLE THING IN THIS ARTICLE IS TRUE. It ALL happened.)
The Outhouse is sponsored this week by Late Nite Draw. Recently featured on ComicsAlliances' Best Art Ever, he is a Chicago-based commissioned artist with a self-published Digital+Print one-shot coming out in October about the abominable snowman called ABOBAMANIMABBLE, and is also available for commissions. Check out some amazing art by clicking here or by clicking the banner at the top, and support the people who support The Outhouse.
About the Author - Robert Morris
Robert Morris has never met a monkey he didn't want to shake hands with.
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