Customer: “Hi. I just bought this BDSM starter kit, but the collar is too small for my neck.”
Me: “You know, the collars in those kits are all the same size, so I’m afraid there aren’t any larger ones available.”
Customer: “Well, can I switch it out for a different item?”
Me: “Since it’s part of a kit, I’m not able to exchange it on its own. But you could run by our main store tomorrow and see if they can add an extender for you.”
Customer: “I already tried that. They said no.”
Me: “You… just now went over there?”
Customer: “Yeah. I know the owner. He said he couldn’t do it. Can’t I just exchange it?”
Me: “You know Rok and Tank?”
Me: “I ask, because the main store is open Monday through Saturday, 12 p.m. to 7 p.m., and it’s currently 8 p.m. on a Sunday.”
Customer: “… Oh.”
Me: “So maybe you can drop by there tomorrow?”
Customer: [weakly] “Yes, please.”
Thing is, nobody’s tried the “I know the owner” trick on me in ages. If more customers don’t start lying to my face, my natural cynicism is going to atrophy, and since it’s the only thing that keeps me going, I’ll waste away and won’t even be able to bathe or feed myself, much less work in retail.
Someone send over a bevy of sociopaths ASAP. I’ll stay open late for them and draw renewed strength from their woefully overconfident attempts at manipulation.