I was raised in retail and there is one lesson that was drilled into me from a very early age: Never Argue With The Customer. My dad had to repeat this lesson almost daily, as I am contrary. When I was speaking with someone, I was aware that he was watching me, nervously, hoping my personality wouldn’t overtake my customer service skills. As a rule, I try to take my dad’s lessons to heart. However, once in a very great while, I break my own policy. Don’t try this at home.

* I was holding a bucket of roses when a customer (older lady, nicely dressed, obvious cosmetic surgery), accompanied by another customer (who looked just like her), approached me. “Hi, can I help you?” I opened. “Are you with the flower store or the supermarket?” she asked. “Pardon?” I politely asked, not sure what she meant. “Do you work for the flower store or the supermarket?” she asked, again, then said to her friend, “The woman who owns this flower store used to own the flower store on Cary Street.” “The floral department is part of the store. We are all one company,” I stated. “No, I know the lady who owns this flower store (please understand that it is a small dept that sits in the middle of a grocery store) and she used to own one on Cary Street,” then, to her friend again, in an exaggerated stage whisper, “SHE DOESN’T KNOW”. I figured that, with that, I was dismissed, and took my leave. After all, I DON’T KNOW. Related: wonder if this mysterious “lady” pays more.

* A woman was viciously mauling my roses, squeezing the life out of them. I approached, cheerfullly, “If you are trying to judge freshness, a better gauge is to lift them out of the bucket and examine the stem and leaves. If they are crisp, green, and shiny, the rose is most likely fresh.” “What ARE you talking about?” she sneered. *gulp* “I am just saying that the ‘firmness test’ is an old wives’ tale that was passed down to all of us, but different roses have different densities, naturally. If you choose one with less petals, it is going to feel less firm, regardless of how fresh it is,” I said, still cheerful but a little desperate. She said, firmly, “YOU have been misinformed” and squeezed two more roses, walking away with the firmer one. You know, the one that was two days older. I know my roses.

* I was sweeping my department and noticed a female customer looking at plants. I usually give them a little bit of space and only approach if they stay for more than two or three minutes or look confused. She not only stayed, but appeared to be picking up each plant, systematically. “Hi. Can I help you find something?” I asked. “No,” she said, condescendingly, “I just try to come in at least once a week and move your plants. They grow better if rotated in and out of the sun and I noticed you fail to do it.” I didn’t argue with this one, just said, “Guh. Thanks?” and walked away.