It was a pretty normal Saturday at the big box store where I worked. I was stocking shelves in the electronics section, trying to make sure all the new TVs were in their right places. The store was busy, like always on a weekend, but nothing too crazy. I was just focused on my job, humming a little tune to myself, when I heard it. A high-pitched whine, followed by a loud cry. I knew that sound. It meant a kid was unhappy, and usually, a parent wasn’t far behind.
I looked up to see a woman standing near the video games, her arms crossed. She had a kid, maybe three or four years old, tugging at her jeans and pointing at a bright display. The woman had on a tight pink top and even tighter white pants, which didn’t really do her any favors. Her hair was really long and blonde, like she’d just stepped out of a salon, but her face had a scowl on it that made her look older than she probably was. I figured she was maybe twenty-one, twenty-two, but that mean look added a few years. She had a small tattoo of a butterfly right above her right eyebrow, which I always found a little odd. I thought about how much better a smile would look on her, but that wasn’t my place to say.
The kid started crying louder, stomping his little feet. The woman just sighed really loud, like she was the most put-upon person in the world. She bent down, but not really to comfort him. More like to tell him off. I couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying, but her tone was sharp. I decided to just keep my head down and finish my work. It wasn’t my department to deal with customers unless they asked for help, and even then, I mostly pointed them to the right aisle. Customer service wasn’t my strong suit, I just liked organizing things.
Then I heard her voice, clear as day, cutting through the store noise. It wasn’t directed at me, but at the poor kid. “I already told you, you’re not getting anything else today! You think money just grows on trees?” she practically yelled. The kid, predictably, burst into a fresh round of wails. She stood up straight, looking around with an expression that dared anyone to look at her funny. That’s when her eyes landed on me.
I tried to look busy, fiddling with a TV box that was already perfectly aligned. But she started walking towards me, her kid still crying and pulling at her pants leg. I knew it was coming. I always knew when these things were coming. She stopped a few feet away, her hands on her hips. Her kid was now pointing directly at me, still sniffling.
“Excuse me, do you work here?” she asked, even though I was wearing the store vest and had a nametag on. I guess she wanted to make sure. I put on my best customer service smile, which probably looked a little forced. “Yes, ma’am, I do. Can I help you with something?” I said, trying to sound as friendly as possible. My mom always told me to be polite, no matter what.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you can. My son really wants this game,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the game display. “But I don’t think we have enough money for it right now. And it’s really expensive.” I looked at the game she was pointing at. It was one of the brand new ones, a popular adventure game for kids. It was full price, about sixty dollars.
“Oh, I see,” I said, not really sure where she was going with this. She looked at me like I was supposed to magically understand. Her son had stopped crying and was now just staring at me with big, teary eyes, a little snot bubble forming under his nose.
“So, I was thinking,” she continued, her voice getting a little louder, “since you work here, maybe you could just… give it to him? For free? I mean, it’s just one game, and you guys have so many.” She even gave me a little wink, like we were sharing some secret. I just blinked at her. For free? My mind raced trying to find a polite way to say no. I imagined my manager’s face if I ever tried to give away store merchandise.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do that,” I said, my voice softer than I intended. “Everything in the store has to be paid for. I don’t have the authority to just give things away.” I tried to explain it as simply as possible. She scoffed. “Oh, come on! Don’t be silly. I know you can. You’re an employee. Just scan it like a return or something, or pretend it was already paid for. No one will know.” She was practically whispering the last part, but her tone was still demanding. She even nudged me with her elbow, like we were friends.
I shook my head firmly. “I really can’t. That would be stealing, and I could lose my job. Plus, the registers track everything.” I pointed to one of the security cameras. It was clear as day. She followed my finger, her eyes narrowing. “You’re being ridiculous. It’s for a kid! Don’t you have any heart? And look at me. I’m a paying customer. I spend so much money in this store.” She puffed out her chest a little, like her presence alone should get her free things. I knew she was expecting me to back down. I’d seen it before. People think if they just push hard enough, they’ll get their way.
Just then, a cell phone started ringing loudly from the pocket of her white pants. It was a really obnoxious, upbeat pop song. She ignored it for a second, then finally pulled it out. She looked at the screen, and her face went from annoyed to furious in a split second. She put it to her ear. “What do you mean it’s declined?!” she shrieked into the phone, her voice echoing a little through the wide aisle. “No, no, no! It can’t be! I just used it yesterday!”
Her son, who had been quiet, started to cry again, louder this time, probably scared by her sudden outburst. She barely seemed to notice. She was pacing back and forth now, one hand running through her long blonde hair, the other gripping the phone. “Well, fix it! I’m in the middle of something important here! I need this card to work!”
I just stood there, watching. It was like a train wreck, but I couldn’t look away. My manager, Mr. Henderson, was a little hard of hearing, so I knew he wouldn’t have heard her from the back office. But a few other customers were definitely staring. A lady with a full shopping cart paused to watch, her jaw a little slack. I felt a blush creeping up my neck, just from being near all this commotion.
Suddenly, the woman hung up her phone, practically throwing it back into her pocket. She spun around to face me, her eyes blazing. “This is ridiculous! My card is apparently frozen, and now my kid can’t have his game because YOU won’t just help me out!” She jabbed a finger towards me. “You know what? I’m just going to take it. What are you going to do?”
Before I could even react, she grabbed the game box off the shelf. Her son, seeing the game in her hand, instantly stopped crying and reached for it with a hopeful smile. She clutched it to her chest, glaring at me. “Come on, let’s go!” she barked at her kid, who was now happily babbling, thinking he was getting the game. She started to march away, right towards the exit, game in hand. My heart pounded. I knew I couldn’t let her just walk out.
“Ma’am, please! You can’t leave with that!” I called out, my voice a little shaky. She ignored me, picking up her pace. I pulled out my store phone, my fingers fumbling as I tried to dial Mr. Henderson. I just needed to alert someone. Anyone. I pushed the button for security, then sales floor manager, then just about any option that would connect me to a person. It felt like an eternity. Meanwhile, she was almost at the automatic doors.
Just as she reached the threshold, and the doors started to open, a man in a black uniform stepped in front of her. It was one of our store security guards, a big guy named Frank who always looked serious. He had been getting a drink from the snack bar near the front. He must have heard the commotion, or seen her from a distance. Frank, without even a question, just held out his hand. “Ma’am, I’m going to need that game.” His voice was calm but firm, not at all like my manager, who sometimes sounded like he was asking a favor.
Her face crumpled. “What? No! It’s for my son!” she shrieked, clutching the game tighter. The kid, realizing something was wrong, started to cry again, pulling at her shirt and reaching for the game. Frank just stood there, unmoving, blocking her path. “Ma’am, I saw you take that off the shelf. You need to come with me to the office.”
She started to argue, to make a scene, but Frank was not budging. Another security guard, a woman named Linda, appeared from another aisle. She must have been nearby and heard. The two of them, calm and professional, slowly escorted the woman and her wailing child towards the back office. She was still protesting loudly, saying it was a misunderstanding and she was a valued customer. But her words fell on deaf ears. I watched them go, a sigh of relief escaping me. The other customers who had been staring slowly went back to their shopping.
I went back to straightening the TV boxes, my hands still a little shaky. I hoped I wouldn’t see her again. This store was big, but I knew I’d recognize that blonde hair and those white pants anywhere. The thought of running into her again, even months from now, made my stomach clench a little. I just wanted to do my job, organize things, and not have to deal with people like that.
