I’ll admit that I’m not of the highest moral code. Whenever I go to Wal Mart, I’ll take several items to the register and, once rung up, I’ll POLITELY let them know that I read the price as being less than what was rung up. Nearly every time, they’ll reduce the price without question and smile. It’s never more than a few bucks here and there, but it’s money saved.
Now, HOW do I get away with this time after time? Surely, someone’s caught onto my scheme, right? Right. The key? Kindness.
I always smile and act as pleasantly as I can to the cashiers- a nice encouragement for one person can make up for a few bucks’ loss of a multi-trillion dollar industry. One day, however, I wasn’t the only one trying this. The difference was that the woman in front of me wasn’t so nice.
The woman yelling at the cashier (a chubby, but not obese, girl) about prices that had nothing to do with things. I heard her swearing, calling the cashier a fat cow, telling her how she couldn’t do her job, which meant she couldn’t get a man (I don’t know how THAT works…) and just the general rudeness. I watch it for about 60 seconds before seeing the girl’s eyes start to well up from all of these petty insults from a customer who was thin enough to blow away in the right gust of wind.
Finally, I hear “Just do your fucking job, you cow!”
I stand inches away from the woman with my most creepy grin, put my hands on her shoulders, and give my best Southern drawl;
“Hey… yer purty. Me ‘n Bubba Duke dun’ loves us a purty gal fer th’ night… Wooh, we’re gonna haves us some fuuuun!”
I looked like a total creep, and it was enough to scare the timid stick away, running for the door.
I smiled to the cashier, complimented her on her smile etc, got a few bucks taken off on a beanie I’d bought, and ended up with her phone number.
Four years later, we’re happily engaged, and she works for a law firm. We still make jokes about the Hillbilly voice every now and then.