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Well, these are the kind of questions that normally drive me up the wall, but sometimes... not.
At the grocery store about a week or so ago, a cute elderly gentleman asked me, "Excuse me, miss--do you know where the canned spinach is?" And the canned spinach was right in front of him. And in the very next aisle, "Could you tell me where the SPAM is?" I'm not sure if he thought I worked there or not (I was carrying around my own shopping basket).
Does anyone else get that? It seems like I rarely enter a store without other customers seeming to think that I am an employee of said store--no matter how I am dressed. Book stores, department stores, grocery stores, okay, maybe not sex shops, but most places. And so there are always the questions that go along with that: "Where might I find the crock pots?" "Could you direct me to the gardening section?" "Where is the SPAM?" And then when I have no nametag, or look bewildered, they scramble to say, "OH, I'm sorry; I thought you worked here."
These questions don't really drive me up the wall. I just tend to find them peculiar, considering--how the hell should I know? |
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