So what had happen’ was…
Jul. 3rd, 2012 07:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
railentheGrocery shopping day comes just at the right time, as I find myself needing a few staples. Having discovered that the local gourmet grocer carried the things I needed that usually cost a crap ton for far less in bulk. The first trip, therefore, was to the gourmet grocer, where nothing went wrong at all. I even had extra reusable bags for this trip after the big stuff was done.
Next trip is to a different store, where there isn’t quite such exacting detail paid to the more exotic things—but that’s OK, because all I’m there for is a prescription and a few packs of meat and bread.
I get in, dump the earlier bags, and then make for the deli, where I order half a pound of deli pepperoni. As the butcher’s checking the machine’s calibrations (anybody else read that in Garrus’s voice?) and getting ready to slice, I notice in the periphery that this old dude in a store uniform is giving me the side-eye. Of course I just got back from therapy, too, and I try to convince myself it’s all in my head…except I look over pretending to be considering a box of matzo crackers and see that yes, this old dude IS in fact standing here giving me the side eye.
I mentally shrug. No problem. Let him be a racist Negrophobe. I’m just here for my sandwich pepperoni and—
Yeah, I can feel him standing behind me now. Like, I can feel his freaking HEAT on me. I make a quick glance behind me and I perceive that he’s about six inches away from me, practically breathing down my neck. There’s absolutely nothing I can do about the tremor—there is a MAN standing BEHIND me close enough to—yes, that is his SHADOW on my person. WTF, dick?
He sidles back off to the side when I glance over. I go back to my order; it’s half done.
AND HE DOES IT AGAIN.
I pull a D’Angelo and think to myself “Shit, damn, motherf-cker” as my order’s completed and walk as quickly as polite society will allow in a store—
Oh, hell no, this ass is NOT shadowing me! This ain’t cool.
“Excuse me—and back it up a second while you’re at it. WHAT is the problem?”
The guy sort of waffles around the question. “Well—I thought you left a bottle in your bag, and I was wondering if it was there was—”
I check my bag. My Sodastream bottle isn’t there—funny thing was, I thought I had it on me; it must have been in one of the other bags at the service desk. “I don’t know what you’re on about. I don’t have any bottles on me. Did I leave it on the service desk, is that it?”
Here he takes a few steps forward. That instinct hits me and I do the clumsy-armor-tier-backstep-dodge like in Dissidia. Unfortunately he keeps it up and I run out of places to backstep dodge. He’s on me again in seconds.
“I just wanted to make sure, like, you might’ve accidentally put a bottle in your bag or what—”
Oh, HELLS no. Oh, FIVE OF NINE CIRCLES OF HELL no.
“I’m not carrying any bottles on me at all. Now you need to back off several feet and knock it off.”
I detour to the service counter and complain to the attendant. She does nothing. She serves three more customers who arrive after I did. I make myself conspicuous again.
“You can fill out a complaint form.”
I’ve got my pen out before I realize that the box is empty. After some disbelief (she came around to check it like I was an idiot for not knowing to look INSIDE THE CLEAR TRAY FOR FORMS THAT AREN’T THERE, and when I say “I’m not going anywhere until my complaint is heard—” Righteous indignation pays off. I get the GM and I give him an EARFUL about this creeper accusing me of stealing, trying to lead me into saying something incriminating. I point at my bag, I point at my cart, I let them search everything, and the GM’s face goes all DOOM as he pulls the middle management team in the back—well, it isn’t quite a room, since it’s made of cubicle walls that don’t go all the way up. Very calmly, I explain why this guy was dead wrong in general—and why I specifically had a big f-ckin’ problem with it, and why it’d result in me never patronizing that store EVER again if it happened again.
TL; DR? I am single-handedly responsible for the new training that they’re going to have to drill into all levels of management.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-07-04 12:43 am (UTC)I really wish I had something supportive to say but dammit, Japanese ate what's left of my brain so I can't say anything of value. *JEDI HUGS*
I KNOW RIGHT?
Date: 2012-07-04 12:55 am (UTC)It's like...I mean...the thing is...
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT.
What the fracking fuck, dude?
Are you such a Negrophobe that a woman of color walking into the fancier part of the store makes you IMMEDIATELY WANT TO LOOK INTO HER PURSE TO SEE IF SHE'S JUST STOLEN A BOX OF KOOL-AID?
I mean seriously, dude.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-04 01:03 am (UTC)Or at least in London.)LOL
Date: 2012-07-04 01:27 am (UTC)Post-racial America, MY BLACK ASS.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-04 01:37 am (UTC)The slogans were:
Hilary FOR President
I'm BI
NASCAR SUCKS
MAN LOVE RULES OK
They then proceeded to get chased by angry rednecks. Even though the poor guys obviously were scared shitless...it was a very funny few minutes of television all the same.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-04 03:36 am (UTC)Re: LOL
Date: 2012-07-04 02:09 am (UTC)I couldn't have said it better!
You handled that splendidly! *stands up and applauds you*
*bow*
Date: 2012-07-04 03:39 am (UTC)"OK. A coulis is where you make a..."
*headtilt on 'coulis'*
"It's where you make a fruit reduction and then..."
*has to stop to explain reductions*
"A reduction is when you boil down something until you have a concentrated..."
*STOPS TO EXPLAIN CONCENTRATION*
Seriously? This is Cooking 101.
Then again this is also a group to whom I once had to explain to that they're not "Roman noodles."