a difficult customer

picture courtesy Wikimedia

I’m on the phone with Alice. I am crazy about her and desperate to impress her. I shouldn't be on the phone; I should be working. But the men’s section in this department store is boring.

‘Please come to the party, Alice, you’ll love it.’

A tall customer, overweight with a moustache, interrupts my conversation with Alice. ‘Have you got size 92B in these trousers?’ he asks.

I point to the racks on the right-hand side. ‘Over there, men’s oversize trousers.’ He wanders off.

I am keen for Alice to come to the party. ‘They have a swimming pool. You’ll love it.’

The big bloke is back. ‘Which rack is it? I can’t see it,’ he shouts.

‘Just beyond the men’s shorts display.’ I wave in the general direction.

He marches off.

Back to the phone. ‘And I hear there will be fireworks.’

‘Ah, I don’t know,’ says Alice. ‘Mum wants me to join her gym function that night.’

‘But…’

‘There are only blue trousers in 92B. I want black ones.’ I’m getting annoyed with this bloke. He keeps interrupting.

‘There’s more on the specials rack at the back.’ I point him towards the rear.

‘Mum’s keen for me to keep fit,’ says Alice. ‘And she’s generous, will pay my club membership.’

He’s back again. ‘Did you say it was over there? I can’t see it.’

I grunt. ‘Through the Country Road section.’ I don’t bother pointing this time if the fat git can’t find it.’

I keep trying with Alice. ‘Your brothers can go to the gym on that day. You don’t have to.’

‘They’re going swimming.’

‘Well, what about your Dad? Ask him if he can go.’

‘I can’t ask him; he’s gone shopping.’

‘Where’s the Country Road section?’ the fat git asks.

‘Past the Levi’s counter and turn right.’ I reply, not even looking at him.

‘I tried that; it’s not there.’

‘Ah, that’s right. They moved. Try over there.’ I point in the other direction.

He stomps off.

‘I’ll need to meet your family sometime,’ I say. ‘I want to make a good impression on your Mum. She sounds great. Going to the gym at fifty.’

Alice chuckles. ‘She’s easy-going, not like Dad. He’s a warhorse. Very demanding.’

‘What’s he gone shopping for?’

‘He wanted to buy some clothes.’

‘What does your dad look like?

‘He’s tall, a bit fat, and has a moustache.’

‘He’s demanding?’

‘Very. Hates anybody who doesn’t give him good service.’

The big man stomps back, red in the face. ‘I found black ones size 92C, but no 92B. Where the hell are they?’

I study him. He does look a bit like Alice.

‘Got to go now, Alice.’ I put the phone down.

‘This way, sir, I’ll take you and show you exactly where they are. Do you prefer cotton or wool blend, sir?’