Sisters are doing it for themselves.

Man: (looking at blackboard in shop): ” 8th of March is International Women’s Day? Never heard of it.”

Me: *shrugging* “Well, Sir. That”ll be the Patriarchy for you…”

Man: (after about 15 seconds in which you could hear his thought process bounce around the shop): “Hmm.”

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Bag.

Two women in the shop:

Woman number 1: “Oooo I love this plant…but how am I going to get it home?”

*in a bag*

Woman number 1: “Ooh my word, it’s delightful! But how am I going to carry it??”

*in a bag*

Woman number 1: “It really is smashing! But I’m just not sure how I’m going to carry it home…”

*in a bag*

Woman number 1: *really scratching her head now* “If only there was some way…”

Woman number 2, *tentatively, as if thought has just occurred to her in moment of Damascene enlightenment*: “You could ask the lady to put it in a bag for you?”
Woman number 3, who is responsible for putting things in bag (me) and who is about to stab herself (or them) in the eye with a fork: “I could put it in a bag for you?”
Woman number 1, *genuinely amazed, as if I have just produced a singing unicorn from my arse*: “OoooOoo, could you?”

It’s the thought that counts

Customer: *buying world’s tiniest plant, which I am wrapping as per standard* “It’s just….It’s just that…well…” *trails off, looks vaguely pissed off*

Me: “Uhmm?” *expectant face*

Customer: “It’s just that…it’s a present for someone. Could you just.. I mean…”

Me: *in my head* “Could I make it look like you haven’t just spent One pound Fifty?”

Customer: “Well….perhaps just a piece of tissue paper?”

Me: “Sure.” *unwraps perfectly nice paper it’s already in, locates tissue, cuts it to suitable size (postage stamp), re-wraps*

Customer: “And some ribbon?”

Me: “Sure.” *finds ribbon, makes world’s tiniest bow*

Customer: “And put it in a gift bag.”

Me: “I’m afraid the gift bags are two pounds.”

Customer: “I don’t have two pounds.”

Me: “Then you may have this perfectly serviceable plastic bag for free.”

Customer: “But that doesn’t look very nice.”

Me: “Well I’m afraid you’ve already used up your imaginary ‘free gift wrap token’ madam. Next!”

Listen Carefully.

Customer: “Do you have any really small Christmas trees?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry. Our smallest one is 4 foot”

Customer: “I need a very small one. Do you have one smaller than that?”

Me: “What, you mean, like a 3 foot one?”

Customer: “Yes! That would be great. I’ll take one!”

Me: “I’m sorry sir, we only have 4 foot ones and up.”

Customer: “But you just said… Oh. Wait.”

Hands across the Nations.

7am. 23rd April. *Just walked through the door at work, followed in by a man wanting a buttonhole for St George’s day.  I inwardly cringe, cursing that I will have to spend the whole day making red rose buttonholes for gormless racists, and then tell myself to not to pigeonhole people*

Man: “At least you know what a buttonhole is, love!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Man: “Not like them FUCKING Russians at the other shop!”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Man: ” Didn’t speak a word of FUCKING English!”

Me: “Ehrm, They’re Latvian and Polish, I think. I talk to them all the time. In English.”

Man: “Whatever. How much?”

Me: “Five Pounds. Sir.”

Man: “Fucking Liberty, you ask me. FIVE POUNDS???”

No?

Woman: (on her actual hands and knees, peering under the metal shutters to the shop -which are rolled down to about a foot from the floor so I can do an Indiana Jones style roll out from under it when I leave- ) at an hour after we normally shut, bellowing “HELLOOOOOOOO?????? ARE YOU STILL OOOOOPENNNNN?????”