The Lost and the Blind

These people get one grouping, since I believe they have no idea what store they're in.

The Lost will confront you and demand to be shown to an item that you don't carry. After explaining that, "No ma'am/sir, we don't carry that." they will INSIST that they JUST bought one here, or buy the item in question here 'ALL THE TIME' and you just don't know what you're talking about. A typical conversation goes like this:

Lost - "S'cuse me, where's ya'll's PVC pipe?"

Me, politely - "Oh, I'm sorry we don't carry PVC pipe."

Lost, uppity tone - "Uh, yes you do, you just don't know where it is."

Me, frowning - "I promise we don't carry it. We've never to my knowledge carried PVC pipe."

Lost, pissy - "I buy PVC pipe here ALL THE TIME, I want to talk to a manager!"

Me, irked - "If you buy it here all the time then why don't you know where it is?"

A notable instance was when the laundry detergent of the world suddenly all switched to a 2x concentrated formula, and the normal one was discontinued- all the customers seemed baffled by this but a man actually shouted obscenities at me because it was apparently my fault he couldn't get Tide original 26 load anymore.

There are also the people purposely fucking with you. They know they didn't get whatever it is they want from the store they're standing in, but they're going to spaz out all over the place anyway.

I was actually vindicated once (only once) by the Lost's girlfriend who was quietly thumbing through a magazine while he shopped.

Lost - "Hey where's the Glade Glass Scents?" (little air freshener thingies like a jelly on a specimen sheet)

Me - "We haven't carried those in like, two years."

Lost suddenly FURIOUS - "What? Of couse you do, I buy them here all the time, I just bought one last week!"

Me (sighing) - "I don't see how that's possible unless it was a return from a different store and was accidently placed on the shelf instead of being taken to claims. We don't normally carry them, there isn't even a place for them on the shelf."

Lost starts working up a tirade - "I can't believe - "

Lost's girlfriend, glancing up from the magazine - "Don't lie, Jesus don't like it when you lie. You gonna go to hell for lying about something stupid like this?"

I stood, jaw agape, as they walked away. The rest of their conversation trailed off into - "Well, you gonna go to hell for havin' sex before you're married." "Well I guess you ain't gettin' any when we get home."

The Blind are these people -

They have looked ALL OVER THE STORE and can't find something that they are standing directly in front of. They come in all shapes and sizes and can react in various ways to being made to look like an asshole when you point out where something is.

Scene one - Nice person.

Blind- "Where's the tin foil? I have literally just walked all over this store and can't find it."

Me- "Right behind you."

Blind embarassed - "Oh, fuck I'm a moron, thanks."

Scene two - Jackass.

Blind- "Where's the fucking tin foil in this fucking store?"

Me- *slowly raises one hand and extends finger to point behind them while giving them a dead stare*

Blind- "..."

Scene three - The Dude.

Blind who has in fact been standing in the tin foil aisle for the past 10 minutes- "Man, where's the tin foil, I have looked like, everywhere."

Me - "Seriously?"

I can't even answer those people. I just walk away knowing it's going to be one of those nights.

Fat with a Face

"You got any fat-free pudding?"

"Uh... I think it's too late for half measures."

Some people are overweight. You can even go so far as to say fat. Very fat. Clinically, morbidly, ridiculously obese. This particular person goes above and beyond the normal concept of fat.

This person is Fat with a Face.

They've ceased to be just a person, and have become a planet with it's own gravity. I don't know how these people fit themselves into a vehicle to get to the store in the middle of the night.

Of course they're buying food. Snack food. And they will bowl you over to get to it. Do not stand in the way of a FWAF, they won't be able to see you under their 7th chin, and will mow you down with their belly.

I've personally witnessed a female FWAF who was so large that while walking down an aisle, her ass-cheeks bumped things off of shelves on either side of her. These aisles, by the way, are specifically designed so that two normal sized human beings pushing shopping carts can pass each other without touching.

FWAFs also like to ride the motorized shopping carts, often screaming at you to get something for them off of a top shelf so that they don't have to hoist their sweaty bulk up the extra 8 inches. I'm slightly bitter about knowing I'd get in trouble if I burst out with, "Maybe if you WALKED your fat ass around the store you wouldn't be so ginormous."

FWAF's are also beyond lazy. I believe this is why the food department is in the front of the store. If a FWAF had to go 20 feet farther down the store for a bag of Cheetos the world might end.

One time a "mother of the year" asked me about laundry detergent you should use for baby clothes. I pointed out the baby specific laundry soap we happened to be standing directly next to that she was oblivious of. She replied that it was 'too expensive, how I s'posed to be spendin' that much on washin' powder?' I said, "Well, you could go back into the infant's department to see if they have a different brand back there, since that's where ALL of the baby stuff is kept." She refused to walk back there as it was, 'too damn far away, I can't be walkin' all over this damn store, I just won't get no washin' powder.'

Walking at a sedate pace I can make that journey in less than 20 seconds.

So if you see a huge fat bitch with an either naked, or filthy child, think of my FWAF.

Diagram of a Trailer Park Princess

There seems to be only a handful of different customer subspecies who wander around in the middle of the night. To keep myself amused I'm going to start cataloging them for future reference.

To start- The Trailer Park Princess.

The hair of these people is always blonde. Bleached Blonde. Like bleached with Clorox bleached, uneven, streaky, roots showing, and for some reason they always wear their hair like girls who never stopped being in middle school. In the 80's.

The face can vary, more often than not you'll find them with eyebrows plucked and redrawn somewhere else on their face, turquoise eye shadow, and the crusting remains of lip-liner for makeup.

You cannot be a TPP unless you have the name of your Baby Daddy tattooed in cursive on your neck. Hopefully his name is something awesome, like BJ Monee, or SuckaFu. Your own name is of course to be tattooed on the back of your upper shoulder. The requisite butterfly/flower/fairy tattoo is to go on an ankle.

The TPP will always have a small filthy child of unidentifiable gender with them, much like a celebrity carries around a little dog.

The wardrobe (at 3 am mind you) consists of a t-shirt which manages to be oversized and still not cover their 'butt in the front'. Almost always has a Looney Tunes character (Winnie the Pooh characters also accepted) on the front, and is covered in mystery stains. A pair of men's Nascar sleeping bottoms is usually substituted for real actual pants, and either house shoes or dirty flip flops are worn on the feet. Also, no bra is to be worn out in public later than 9pm so if you see a TPP avert your eyes quickly.

The TPP comes from a matriarchal society, so be prepared to see her in a herd along with her TPP sisters and mother, the Trailer Park Queen.

The Lady with the ANGRY NECK.

I work at a major retail chain restocking shelves in the middle of the night. The store is open 24/7 and there is almost no end to the parade of ridiculous folks who seem to have some type of need to be out and about at 3 in the morning.

I'm used to people at this point.

But this was too much.

A chunky, beastly, toothless (or toothless enough to not make a difference) woman and her two equally appealing daughters were shopping down the aisle I'm trapped in for 8 hours a day. I pointedly ignored them as I am wont to do since the "Ten Foot Rule" (smile and greet customers when they get within 10 feet of you) stresses me out. Anyway, as this lady turns around I notice some type of tattoos on the back of her neck-

At least that's what they should have been. In reality she turned around and there was this-

Staring out at me from under a roll of blubber that threatened to overtake this woman's neck were two angry little eyes. I froze like a deer in the headlights, caught in the gaze of the Angry Neck.

Why was her neck so angry? It looked out on the world as if to say,

"Dammit, I'm trapped on the back of this woman and I am PISSED. All I have to look forward to is looking down at this fat bitches' blubbery ass all day long! You! Staring at me from down the aisle! I see you!"

But I don't know, maybe she had a tattoo of a nose and mouth elsewhere on her body to round out the whole package.