A Letter to the Lovely Customer on their Cell Phone

By Megan Weyrauch on July 1, 2013

Dear customer,

“Hello! How are you today?” I put a tremendous effort into my greeting as soon as you walked in, offering a grand welcome to our little café. I pasted on a huge smile and looked directly at you, expecting at least the smallest of greetings in return.

Or at least eye contact.

Do you remember me? I was probably wearing a nametag, standing behind the counter, ready to serve you, you know, like I worked at the café or something. I am about 5’6’’with long blonde hair and deep hazel eyes.

I’m lying; my eyes are blue and green with a hint of yellow around the pupil. But you wouldn’t know this, would you? You would not give me the time of day as you talked loudly into your cell phone to your boyfriend, girlfriend, boss, mom, or cat about something ridiculous. I’m sure the conversation could have waited at least two minutes; we are pretty fast here, get you in and out of the door so you can enjoy your day. I promise it would not have taken too much of your time.

As you pointedly ignored me and stared into the food case I wasn’t sure whether you were here to order something or to tell your mystery person about your new diet; you were certainly commenting on how all of our food seemed too fattening. Were you talking to me? I could not tell so I decided to use my time stocking some utensils.

As I turned to go, I caught a weird flash of flesh in the corner of my eye, and I turned to see you flagging me down, still not saying a word as you pointed wildly at the case.

No, you were not pointing at the case, but touching the glass, leaving your grimy fingerprints all over where the yogurts normally sit on display behind a clean surface. Oh customer, how can I blame you? You had no idea of knowing that fingerprints are one of my biggest pet peeves, or that I just cleaned the glass before you walked in. How else could you have communicated to me that you wanted yogurt?

Oh, wait. I guess you could have just put down your cell phone, looked and me and told me what you wanted.

Smiling, I grabbed the yogurt for you and proceeded to the register when you started flagging me down again. You walked to the second food case and then touched the glass indicating you desired a bagel. I grabbed the bagel and asked twice if you’d like cream cheese, something I ask everyone. Don’t feel special.

Again, you ignored me, so I shoved the bagel into a bag, rang up your order on the register, and announced your total. In a shocking turn of events, you pulled your phone to the side of your mouth and whispered to me that you wanted cream cheese. I happily threw a tub in your bag and asked if you would like anything else.

You seemed angry as you spat at me that you wanted a latte. Your eyes bulged as I asked if you wanted me to make the drink hot or cold. I saw the vein in your temple throbbing as you threw your credit card at me and then forgot to sign the receipt. I let that one go, customer; obviously I was out of line in trying to serve you.

I’m sorry that I interrupted your phone call. Maybe next time I won’t be so rude when you are trying to have a conversation.

But, and I could be wrong here, but if I remember correctly, did you not come to me?

Sincerely,

The intrusive worker

And p.s. Have a nice day!

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