A classic feature of customer syndrome is the sufferer's tendency to lynch the messenger. The emotion-saturated misconception that service workers have control over such matters as company policy is woefully immature. This thinking and the domineering anger it evokes reveals a weak mind under the foolish conviction of its' own strength. A minor detail of my employer's training is to avoid personalizing the anger of disgruntled customers. Although this is the logical approach, it is obvious when the customer is disrespecting me rather than my company.

"What is all this bullshit about with the I.D.?" A lowlife condescendingly barked this at me the other night after he paid by check and I requested to see identification. The computer system prompts I.D. verification from the cashier on check writers who are not established and so forth. The I.D. number must be entered into the system and it is impossible to override this prompt. In all actuality, this "bullshit" is about either cough up the driver license or trot your happy ass home empty handed, little bitch. His retort to my politely asked question was completely unwarranted and watching him char will ease my torment in Hell.

Incidentally, he had handed me a special request order form prior to pissing in my ear. He wanted Heinz beans. "All y'all have is that Bush's crap," he snarled. A connoisseur of canned beans, such a refined palate. Care to hazard a guess as to what became of his order form?
In a fast food place, for example, customers don't consider the wrapped around drive-thru, the haphazard grill crew, shorthandedness or the plethora of orders being filled ahead of theirs. All they can think of is that their order was not presented within a three-minute time frame. For this miniscule inconvenience in their trivial day, they blame the cashier. With their eyes, demeanor and language, they patronize and belittle the cashier while insulting his intelligence. Reality check; I didn't bumrush the store, nor did I assemble your precious Whopper.

While working front counter at my first job, a man presented me a coupon for a free apple pie. When I informed him that the coupon was expired, he gave me an incredulous fuck you sort of look. At this point he still seemed to be under the impression that he was getting a free apple pie. To continue debating the coupon's validity would have been to surrender my psychological advantage. Most importantly, it would have been beneath me. Rather than pandering to his attitude problem, I attended to the next customer. "Y'all got some idiots working here," he shouted before walking away. To recap, he was stupid enough to think that an expired coupon would be accepted, but I'm an idiot for telling him that it wouldn't be. How classic--and sir, fuck you, too.

In a grocery store, they blame us for the store's refund policy, the validity of coupons, the fine print details of special sales and whatever else disagrees with the notions of their primal intellects. My company won't allow me to accept computer generated coupons, so naturally I'm at fault as well as being a worthless moron. I am obliged to shatter a nimrod's delusion that Ruffles are on sale, thereby lowering my status to that of scum of the earth. I must inform a woman that a receipt is required for a refund, which of course makes me a stupid, insolent prick. Please, give your pissy looks, backhanded remarks and clumsy monologues to the parties responsible and leave my $6.40 an hour day the Hell alone. And by the way, you are probably a dumb ass.

In many cases, the customer is eager to be offended and only considers the facts that accomodate the childish attitude that the world revolved around him or her. Cashiers are the unfortunate ambassadors of retail businesses. Aside from customer stupidity, most of the perceived reasons to complain stem from corporate tightwads or misfortunes inherent to retail. Nevertheless, ignoring the real issues and bitching at the first uniformed body that presents itself makes people feel secure and in control. A simple method for simple minds.

People show intellectual slothfulness by blaming the innocent and those within a convenient proximity. Senselessly reacting on juvenile "no fair" logic and yielding to any resulting emotion reveals a basal thought process. Often times, this line of thinking shows a self-indulgent temper that temporarily loosens these customers from the finer points of reality. More pathetic still is the clear sense of pride that these people take in their foolish behavior. They consider themselves strong poeple who won't be marginalized or trampled on. They also suffer from the delusion that they are keen observers who know when they have somehow been steamrolled or viciously inconvenienced. The more inadequate or subjugated they feel in their humdrum lives the greater the classless outlashing.

Faulting others as being inept and moronic assholes rewards them with a breeze of superiority accompanied by a shot of the vindication they crave. They are emotional infants and intellectual slugs who have unwittingly parlayed their show of strength into a divulgence of garden-variety weaknesses. The psychiatric profession's role in dealing with the middle class' so-called issues is a cliche. Service workers quite possibly serve as the public's greatest outlet. Contemplate this: we are the hirelings, but they are the weak.