So. A while back I told you about Crazy Pink Haired Lady (since then she’s been banned from the store for scaring someone’s kid but still sneaks in when no one is looking) and Pervy Old Dude. I thought it was time to tell you about someone else.
We have two semi-regular senile old skinny women who come in. Both of whom have really high-pitched, irritating voices and both eat or drink only things that have chocolate in them. Chocolate pound cake, chocolate biscotti, hot cocoa, chocolate milk, chocolate chip cookies. Oh, and sometimes, chicken salad. But that’s beside the point.
One is skinny and the other is really skinny. Skinny eats once per day and it’s usually three or four chocolate biscotti that she gets from our store. She likes to tell how it will be her dinner. She also likes to shout at you when you talk too much. You will never really know how much talking is “too much,” but you can bet she’ll bark “Hold on a second and let me think!” Like if she asks you the total on her order and you give it to her, then she says “How much did you say?” and you tell her again. At which point you’re asked to just stop talking to her so much.
Really Skinny has an even higher-pitched voice than Skinny and tends to make absolutely no sense when she talks to you. At least Skinny is aware that she doesn’t know what’s going on. Really Skinny is completely clueless. One day the manager from another store was working on our registers to get them up to speed when Really Skinny came in. She walked right up to the guy and started screeching at him. The guy deferred to Annie who offered to ring Really Skinny up at the second register. The next five minutes were painful, but hilarious, as I watched the woman demand to know why she was on a different register than the first one she walked up to. Annie told her the first one was closed.
“Because we’re working on it.”
“Because we need to make sure both registers can use credit cards.”
Annie has a three year-old, but I’m sure she doesn’t want to have the same conversation at work that she’d have to have at home.
Since the credit card machines weren’t working, Annie offered to write down the woman’s number and charge her when they were up and running later in the day. Of course, this created even more confusion because Really Skinny didn’t understand why Annie wanted to write down her credit card information and she was probably convinced we were going to steal her identity.
When she sits down, Really Skinny doesn’t take her food or drinks with her. She just walks away then, like a howler monkey, starts making noises at you until you give up and ask what she needs. She tells you to bring her stuff to her, which you do, to be polite, but this means she’s going to ask you something really weird like, “Why is this table pushed up against the wall? I like the table when it’s over a few inches.” So then you struggle with whether or not you want to actually move her table two inches from the wall.
During the cash register incident, she kept shouting at me “Where’s my card? I need my card back! Give me my card!” while I was grinding coffee. I tried to ignore her after the first few times that I explained we were only holding her card until the credit machine was up and running. At which point we would ring up her order and give her card back since she didn’t want us to write down the number.
Annie finally took the card to her and tried to explain that we had not yet charged her.
Long story short, the lady got all her shit for free because dealing with her and trying to explain even the simplest of ideas is a frustrating struggle that eventually isn’t worth the milk in her cocoa.
Last Thursday must have been a full moon, because both Skinny and Really Skinny came in within about twenty minutes of one another. I’ve never seen them in there on the same day.
I told Annie there was a subsequent rip in the space time continuum and it was raining chocolate walnut biscotti outside.