Assholes are easy to deal with,
but the nice customers?
Those are the worst kind.
I said, I can't sell to you if you're buying for someone else.
She told me to give her the damn cigarettes.
I said to myself, I don't like my job,
but it's still worth more than her satisfaction.
She left. I was fine.
The next customer was sorry that happened to me;
so was the next one,
and the next one, and suddenly
I was not fine. I ducked down to wipe my eyes,
because their well-intentioned sympathy
upset me more than the offender herself.
I don't care until they do.
Not until the hesitant remarks on
how sorry they are,
and I come perilously close to caring
what other people think of me,
even if they're strangers.
I said, I can't accept this ID. Do you have another?
He didn't. His prison ID had expired.
I wasn't afraid until the next customer in line
started talking.
The time I called my mom on break,
I cried the entire 15 minutes.
Then it was back to work.
One man said, You've been crying.
I had been, but I didn't want to talk about it
because I didn't want the tears to start again.
I wanted to be left alone.
I wanted to say this:
Their entitlement is not
your
fault.
Just talk to your kid,
text your spouse,
chat with your friend,
and let me move on.
Ignore me, and I'll be fine.