Every now and then (ok, too often) I get a day where people feel the need to tell me off.

The first pair were buying scratch and wins and when they were finished they threw them down the semi-circular hole in the counter that enables me to lift up the hinged flap and open the little half door to get out of the booth. One said, after throwing her ticket down, "Is that a garbage?" "No," I replied. "You should really close that up, I bet a lot of people throw garbage down there." (it's about one a day, really.) I was dumb though, and had to say, "I need it to lift the counter, it's too heavy." She has to have the last word (or seven) "You should cover it with plastic, then."

Saran wrap, maybe? I don't know. She was quite annoyed with me, even though I was the one who had to go down on the floor to pick up her ticket.

So anyway. The day goes on. Another happy shopper woman comes, and requests a ticket. I print one out for her. It's apparently not what she wants. She starts pacing up and down, going, "No, no, listen..." and then telling me again. This time I understand, that she doesn't in fact want what she originally asked for. But, this is my fault, you know. So I make her the ticket she did want. But like the last happy shopper, she can't leave it alone. "I WANTED the COMBINATION, UNDERSTAND?" Not only do I understand, but she now has the ticket. She goes away muttering.

One more, just to make my day complete. She comes bouncing up with her friend. They're both a sort of woman I'm scared of, with capes and long greying hair and they're discussing herbal tea. Friend walks off, and scary woman moves over to the side counter with her enormous purse and says, "More room over here." The little old man behind her takes that as his cue to step up and order his tiny ticket, while she's going through her purse. So I quickly make his ticket, take his money, and turn back to her. She finishes going through her purse and says to me, very loudly, "I can't believe that old man pushed in front of me like that. And that you served him." I say, "I'm sorry," but she's not done.

Is it a full moon or something? She gave me, I swear, at least 3 minutes on how rude the old man and I were. How I should think of the customers, and ladies should always come first, and on and on.

Big raspberries all round, I think. Retail sucks.