Monday, January 29, 2007
The Best Stories Come From Real Life
Hollywood can't hold a candle to this one. I went to Wawa on Saturday to buy some Nantucket Nectar Apple Juice—my god, how I’m addicted to it right now. While I was there, I was scarred for life.
They looked fairly short-staffed. There was only one general cashier and one deli worker. When I got to the counter, the cashier was actually over at the deli helping to reduce some of the overflow. I waited patiently, as Matt was still selecting something and no one else was behind me, with one equally patient gentleman in front of me. As the line formed though, the cashier noticed and rushed back over to help.
As the cashier—we’ll call him Mike—was counting out change for the guy in front of me, this older woman rushed over demanding her coupon and money back as things were taking entirely too long. As Mike maintained eye contact with her, he finished giving the man in front of me his change. Before he could finish that, she demanded it again. Tending to her was the next thing he did.
Before she left, she was sure to state very audibly “I have never received such awful service than I did here. I write for the Philadelphia Inquirer and you’ll be in the Tuesday edition.” She then stormed off in a huff, but not without eyeing up everyone in the store first. I guess the communal chuckle didn’t help.
I had finished but was waiting for Matt to check out. As we left, the woman returned to the store with cell-phone camera in tow, taking snapshots of each person who had left. She must have been planning some hexes or something.
“You will all be featured in the Tuesday edition”, she proclaimed.
“Great! I love the Daily News. I can’t wait to see my picture up there”, said a man in the store in a very sarcastic tone.
“Not when you see what for” said crazy lady, as she continued to take more pictures.
As we left, Matt was now pouring his newly-purchased washer fluid into the car. The crazy woman was now being barraged by two women who demanded that she delete their pictures. Not only did she refuse, but she now took a picture of their license plate. As she then realized that their Escalade could trample her tiny Corolla, she backed down and backed out.
As her final departure from the madness, she got back out of her car one last time and screamed “Hey Baby”. I couldn’t see, as my line of sight was blocked by the hood of the car. But Matt surely got an eyeful. . . of one. . . fifty. . . year. . . old. . . breast.
There are no words. While, I’m fairly certain she doesn’t write for the Daily News, she should be in sales. You can be certain that I will be purchasing my copy tomorrow.
They looked fairly short-staffed. There was only one general cashier and one deli worker. When I got to the counter, the cashier was actually over at the deli helping to reduce some of the overflow. I waited patiently, as Matt was still selecting something and no one else was behind me, with one equally patient gentleman in front of me. As the line formed though, the cashier noticed and rushed back over to help.
As the cashier—we’ll call him Mike—was counting out change for the guy in front of me, this older woman rushed over demanding her coupon and money back as things were taking entirely too long. As Mike maintained eye contact with her, he finished giving the man in front of me his change. Before he could finish that, she demanded it again. Tending to her was the next thing he did.
Before she left, she was sure to state very audibly “I have never received such awful service than I did here. I write for the Philadelphia Inquirer and you’ll be in the Tuesday edition.” She then stormed off in a huff, but not without eyeing up everyone in the store first. I guess the communal chuckle didn’t help.
I had finished but was waiting for Matt to check out. As we left, the woman returned to the store with cell-phone camera in tow, taking snapshots of each person who had left. She must have been planning some hexes or something.
“You will all be featured in the Tuesday edition”, she proclaimed.
“Great! I love the Daily News. I can’t wait to see my picture up there”, said a man in the store in a very sarcastic tone.
“Not when you see what for” said crazy lady, as she continued to take more pictures.
As we left, Matt was now pouring his newly-purchased washer fluid into the car. The crazy woman was now being barraged by two women who demanded that she delete their pictures. Not only did she refuse, but she now took a picture of their license plate. As she then realized that their Escalade could trample her tiny Corolla, she backed down and backed out.
As her final departure from the madness, she got back out of her car one last time and screamed “Hey Baby”. I couldn’t see, as my line of sight was blocked by the hood of the car. But Matt surely got an eyeful. . . of one. . . fifty. . . year. . . old. . . breast.
There are no words. While, I’m fairly certain she doesn’t write for the Daily News, she should be in sales. You can be certain that I will be purchasing my copy tomorrow.
# posted by Jay @ 10:13 AM 
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