Angry? Mad as hell and you can't take it anymore? Get something off your chest and it could be published online and/or in print. Bitches are anonymous and may be edited for length, grammar, spelling and our lenient standards of propriety.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
I didn't greet you, make conversation, or pick up after you because it's my job. I did it all becuase I am a nice person. Jerk. I am a cashier and you Prick come in, in your big fancy suit on your telephone, throw your purchases down and your money and completly ignor me. Fucker. I smile nicely, letting you know that I am aware you're on the phone and giving you a second to get off so we can start the transaction. I'm afraid it's part of my job as a cashier to ask you some quck questions, and as a caring human to make sure you got what you were looking for and to ask how you were doing. At least acknowledge that I exist. You proceed to walk out the door without a thank you or a goodbye.
And you, Bitch! I say hello, and you say nothing. I repeat myself more than once, obviously you didn't hear me the first two times. Then you glare at me and angrily say HELLO... ok, so you did hear me all three times I asked. I ask you how you're doing, nothing, I ask you for a "" card, and you do not respond and so I tell you the total. You pay by (again) throwing your money on the counter... all those pennies dimes and nickles. While I have my hand held out for you to place it in. Then just walk away while I say goodbye, have a good day! And again you ignore me. How the hell is that supposed to make me feel? Grow the fuck up and learn some manners.
---A Lowly Cashier
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