limowreck

So today I had a customer call me a bunghole.

That's not the great thing about it. But lets rewind for a moment, kiddies. Daddy's got a story for you.

So I'm sitting in one of the chairs we provide our customers in my department when they try on the merchandise, or if they feel they need to rest. Since we weren't busy at that point, I decided to park my ass in one of these chairs while I scanned labels for the clearance to be put out. I was taking a break and drinking Starbucks on the floor. We had three customers in the department, and they were just milling about like they were lost, which people in Williamsburg commonly do...since most times they're above the age of 80 and probably really are lost.

Anyway, so I'm talking to them about why it could be bad that I've been on a Starbucks kick lately. I made a joke about how if I kept drinking too much of it, that I might have to worry about having cholorectal exams at a much earlier age than needed. Haha, good one, Shaun.

An 80-something gentleman found this so witty that he showed his appreciation of my acerbic wit by refering to me as a...yes, you guessed it..."Bunghole."

I really wish he'd waited till I was finished sipping my Starbucks, cuz I almost snorted it and wound up spitting it out onto the shoes I was scanning. Oops. Not my fault. I didn't say, "Bunghole."

This wonderful display of brown, frothy goodness obviously did not bode well for the shoes. In fact, I had to explain to my boss why there was Starbucks on the shoes. I even suggested that our company could get something out of this. You know, since the shit is so expensive anyway, and it's like drinking gold, we could justifiably jack up the prices of the shoes.

That was met with silence. Oh well. Guess I wasn't cut out for Marketing and Advertising.