The fluorescent lights of the electronics store hummed with a low, constant buzz, a sound that usually faded into the background for me. I was deep in thought, staring at a wall of various display models, trying to decide if I really needed to upgrade my home entertainment setup. The question hung in the air, right alongside the faint scent of new plastic and stale coffee that often permeated these places.
A voice cut through my contemplation, sharp and insistent. “Excuse me! Can you help me find something?”
I turned, surprised to find a woman standing very close, a determined look on her face. Before I could respond, she barreled on. “I’ve been looking everywhere for the new wireless headset. The one for gaming. Do you have it in stock? And where exactly is it located? I’ve already walked the entire perimeter of the store twice.”
A wave of mild confusion washed over me. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I began, raising a hand slightly. “I don’t actually work here. I’m just another customer.”
The woman’s expression didn’t change, not even a flicker of acknowledgment. Her eyes narrowed just a fraction. “What do you mean you don’t work here? You’re standing right next to the display. You look like you work here. Don’t waste my time, I’m in a hurry. Just tell me where the headset is, or better yet, go grab it for me.”
A tight knot began to form in my stomach. The initial confusion started to give way to an unwelcome feeling of irritation. “No, really,” I said, my voice perhaps a touch firmer than I intended. “I’m not an employee. I have no idea where that particular headset is.”
“This is ridiculous!” she scoffed, throwing her hands up in a gesture of exaggerated exasperation. “Are you telling me you refuse to help a customer? Is this the kind of service they provide here now? Just tell me where they keep the gaming peripherals. It shouldn’t be that difficult for someone ‘working’ here to know that.”
My jaw clenched involuntarily. The situation was quickly becoming absurd. My desire to calmly explain was quickly eroding. I decided the most direct path to extricating myself was to find an actual staff member. “Look,” I said, gesturing vaguely around the store. “I can try to find someone who actually works here to assist you.”
Her reaction was immediate and hostile. “You are not going anywhere! Are you trying to pawn me off on someone else? I asked you for help, and you are going to help me. Or are you going to get fired today for being unhelpful? I will absolutely speak to your manager about this attitude.”
A throbbing started behind my eyes. I felt a surge of genuine anger, a hot flush rising up my neck. The audacity of her presumption was infuriating. “I cannot get fired,” I stated, my voice low and strained, “because I am not employed by this store.” I began scanning the aisles more earnestly for someone wearing a store-branded shirt. I spotted a young man in a blue polo, folding boxes near the camera section, and started to move towards him.
She stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Oh no you don’t! You are not walking away from me. This is your job, to assist customers, and I am a customer! This is absolutely unacceptable behavior. I demand to know your name, right now. I want to report you for insubordination and poor customer service. I’m going to make sure you lose your job!” Her voice had risen considerably, drawing a few curious glances from other shoppers.
My muscles tensed. The desire to simply walk away was overwhelming, but she was physically impeding me. I looked directly at her, trying to keep my voice even despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface. “Listen,” I said, a dangerous calm settling over me. “I am going to get an actual employee for you. This is beyond ridiculous.”
Just then, the young man in the blue polo, alerted by the raised voices, started walking towards us, a look of mild concern on his face. This was my chance. As he approached, I stepped around the irate woman, addressing him directly. “Excuse me,” I said, making sure my voice carried, “this customer here is looking for the new wireless gaming headset, and she believes I work here. Could you please help her locate it?”
The woman spun around, her face a mask of indignation. “He’s trying to get out of doing his job! He’s been nothing but rude and unhelpful! I want him disciplined immediately!”
The young man blinked, looking from me to her, clearly confused. “Ma’am,” he began, “is there a problem?”
I took a deep breath, pushing past the anger to deliver a concise, undeniable explanation. “The problem, sir,” I said, speaking to the employee but directing my words to the woman, “is that this person insists I am an employee of this establishment, despite my repeated assurances that I am not. I am a customer, just like she is. I am wearing my own clothes. I have no name tag. I am not carrying any store equipment or a scanner. I was browsing the monitors. There is absolutely nothing about my presence here that indicates I am an employee.” I finished, feeling a strange clarity after laying out the facts so plainly.
The woman’s mouth hung slightly open, her angry glare slowly dissolving into a bewildered stare as she processed my words, perhaps for the first time truly looking at me, devoid of her preconceived notions. She glanced at my ordinary t-shirt, then down at my hands, which held no price gun or inventory device. She looked at the actual employee, then back at me, a dawning realization finally washing over her face. Her shoulders slumped. The volume of her voice had completely faded, replaced by an embarrassed silence.
The young man, now understanding the situation, offered her a polite, if slightly strained, smile. “Ma’am, I can definitely help you find that headset. If you’ll just follow me to the gaming section…”
Without another word, or even a glance in my direction, the woman turned and followed the legitimate employee, leaving me standing alone, the hum of the store’s lights once again the loudest sound in my ears.
