What goes around

Hey you,
with the horrible hair and the penciled on eyes.  Or maybe you're sixteen and have a kid slung across your hip; maybe again you're sixty five and you reach in an over sized purse to take out a carefully tabulated list of coupons.  I'm you're friendly sales associate, and I have something to tell you:
You're not witty.  Or cute.  Or vaguely amusing.  And I don't care about you as a person at all, when I look at you I see is big dollar signs.
Honestly. 

Whats more, I don't care to clean up after you.  They don't pay me enough.  When you're snot nosed six year old daughter rips open a fresh lip gloss off the shelf and starts eating it, don't look at me and glib, "Kids!"  I don't find it amusing.  I see my paycheck, walking out the door on your daughters now shiny lips.

Sometimes I fantasize about destruction.  I would like to go to your house and spill cherry soda on the floor, rip the cloths out of your closet and dump them in a pile, do it all with a holier then thou attitude.  I believe in karma though, and retail karma is one of the best kinds.

Next week when you bring something back, that same glossy lipped girl now in tears about her favorite shirt that shrunk in the wash, I will hand it back and smile.
"I'm sorry.  This item can clearly not be returned."

Go ahead and threaten, but on the inside I'm dying in laughter.  My manager won't care, and neither will the company.  After all, all you are is money in the bank.
The only thing that can save you is kindness and decency, areas in which you are clearly lacking.

So the next time a girl like me looks at you and says "Is there anything I can do to help you?"  just smile and thank her.    Because someday, when she finishes her college degree, she is going to walk into your office, and she is going to be introduced as your new boss.  And then you had better look at her and smile and say "What can I do for you today?"