Don't Be A Complete Tool

On the heels of recovering from both the black plague and ebola (um, strep and a crazy stomach bug), the last thing I needed was the possibility of having to break up a cat fight in my lobby.

It isn't often that our customers talk to one another, and the conversations are usually helpful and friendly when it does happen. Yesterday was the exception.

An older lady came in and decided that we wanted to hear all about her harrowing experience of being asked for spare change in our parking lot. She made it sound like she just escaped an ass-raping.

A younger lady heard her nowhere-near-death tale and, surprisingly, wasn't moved. The conversation that followed didn't start off too wildly, but it declined. Fast.

Young: If you don't feel comfortable getting out of your car in this neighborhood, there are other locations you can go to.

Old: No, I know. I like coming here, but I just didn't feel safe when he approached me.

Young: Well, he was probably just hungry. I don't know why anyone would be afraid of a hungry person.

Old: It wasn't that he was hungry, he looked like he was on meth.

Young: Well, when I first saw you, I thought you were on meth.

Old: I'm not continuing this conversation with you.

Young: [something about Old being too good to talk to anyone]

Old: [something about Young growing up]

Young: [something immature and hippyish]

Old: [something about Young having a nice life]

(I don't know, after the meth comment they started talking over one another. This is what I picked out anyway.)

Now, of course, it's completely amusing, but yesterday I wanted to grab both of those two by the scruff of the neck and shake 'em.

And so ends 2010. Happy New Year!