>Sample dialogue of an all too common customer service situation which may lead me to do one of the following: stab the customer with the most readily available object (clothing hanger, clothing u-bar, etc), or stab myself with the fake-apple scented, sparklely green pen which has been assigned to me.
Me: “Hi there. Are you looking for something in particular?”
Idiot Mother: “Will this t-shirt fit my daughter?”
Let’s set aside for a moment the fact that this question does not answer my question, which is annoying by itself. The only appropriate answer to this annoying question is “I don’t know.” But what I really want to say is “I don’t know you silly cow. YOU gave birth to her. YOU live with her, and have done for the past 10 years. I, on the other hand, have never laid eyes on your offspring and therefore have absolutely no idea if this random t-shirt will fit her. Ideally this shirt fits the average ten year old. But how do I know if your child is average? She could be a whale or, judging by your over-tanned-stair-mastered-to-death-self, anorexic. I just don’t know. And frankly I don’t care. Die.”