Story 3 - Tomatoes? WHAT!?

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Stories are always better when they're told immediately after they occur. So, naturally, one of the most phenomenal stories of my entire life happened more than three years ago and the details and dialogue is more than a little sketchy. I'm bad at this storyteller game.

In the summer of 2001 I worked in maintenance at Ultra Foods. My job was fairly simple. I either worked inside or outside. Outside involved the never-ending retrieval of shopping carts. Working inside meant I swept, cleaned messes, hid in the stock/loading area where no cameras could spot me not working, and various other small little tasks you never think about but really are necessary.

One thing I frequently had to do while working inside was to interact with the customers. Usually it was a very simple question, "Where is the mayonnaise?" After a week or two I learned where nearly all the items were so I'd just point them to the aisle and politely tell them to find me if they needed help. Other times I would ask a co-worker who had been there longer if I was unsure of an item's location. The question I always hated answering was the one asking if we had a particular item.

It was not just the burden of helping that I disliked. Often I'd have to walk to the back to see if we had any of that particular product in the massive back area (and only the stock people knew where everything was). Usually I had no idea if we ran out of an item; I worked in maintenance and very rarely dealt with the merchandise unless I was stealing ramen noodles for break time or cleaning something messy and sticky. Most of the time I would tell the person I was going to check. I'd walk around until I found the nearest stock person and I'd find out if we had the item. I would then report back to the customer with the news.

Late one night I was in the produce section doing a sweep and mop of the area with another maintenance guy (Jose). For some reason, produce managed to get disgusting looking on a regular basis. While I was doing my job, two rather large black ladies (term used loosely) walk up to me. One asks me about some tomatoes that were on sale or really tasty or something. I told her to hold on, as I didn't know offhand so I would ask the person who works in produce. I start to walk to the back as he comes through the double doors. I ask him from about fifteen feet away, just a few feet from the women. He holds his arms out and says something like, "We're all out."

I'm sure the woman heard him, but I went back to her and apologized for the inconvenience and said we were out of the tomatoes. This is not really that shocking; It was around 11 PM and the tomatoes were on sale. Odds are not all that bad that we would not have anymore that day. The lady did not like this. I told her very nicely that Dominick's (another grocery store chain) was just a few minutes down the road. I swear I did not say this in any negative way. I had no idea where she was from or how well she knew the area. I was genuinely trying to give her an alternative.

"Look, I'm sorry we're out of them. I don't know what to tell you. If I could go to the back and grow some tomatoes for you, I would. But I can't."

You know those people that don't have The Filter? The Filter is that little thing inside peoples' heads that goes through all the thoughts processed during the day. Most of these thoughts are fairly innocuous and no filter is really needed. But every once in a while people are put in a situation and the brain decides to develop something that should stay buried deep within the cerebrum. It's times like these when The Filter kicks in.

The lady was none too pleased with my comment. I believe she muttered something about growing tomatoes as she stormed off with cart and her companion. I had a little laugh with Jose after they were out of sight. I had always wanted to make some comment like that to a customer, but I never really had the nerve to do it. Anybody who has worked in the service industry knows what it's like. I felt I had a minor little victory over all the obnoxious customers with my little "grow some" line.

About five minutes later, Jose and I see the double doors to the produce back room swing open. Here comes the aforementioned guy (I forget his name, but Kenny comes to mind so I'll call him that from now on) with a box of tomatoes. Yes, those tomatoes. The SAME tomatoes the lady wanted earlier. Kenny wasn't being a jerk to the lady, he seriously thought we were out. He found some while in the back so he brought them out. I now had two options: 1) Have a little laugh about the mistake. The women were gone and would not be returning to that part of the store (if you've been to that Ultra, you'd know it's set up to essentially guide a person in a certain direction. Produce is near the front, off to the side.) 2) Be a nice guy and go find the women and tell them we found some of the tomatoes.

I felt bad about the mistake, so I chose door number two. I even decided to throw in an apology about the mistake. I walked to nearly the other end of the store to find them. When I did, I walked up to the woman and explained the situation. I apologized for the misunderstanding and that's when she lost her mind.

She started the jibba jabba about my "grow some" comment and how we had them all along and really, I don't remember what she said. But she was yelling. So I yelled back. I distinctly remember the words, "I DO NOT APPRECIATE BEING YELLED AT WHEN I WALKED ACROSS HALF THE STORE TO APOLOGIZE AND TELL YOU WE HAD THE TOMATOES!" Not only do I have a temper, like I said before, my Filter was at home under the covers waiting for me. Things kinda just flowed.

She yelled some more. Her friend warned me to "step off" or something that only made a little bit of sense. The woman kept going off, and I think I yelled back a little more. I never swore at her or really said anything bad. Then it hit me.

That's right, I gave her the "WHAT!?" treatment. This was about two weeks after "Stone Cold" Steve Austin first started his "What!?" gimmick (done in Chicago, I might add…at what I believe was the last WWF/E show I attended). At that time, it wasn't the big, obnoxious catchphrase phenomenon that it would later become. Austin would annoy people by repeating "WHAT!?" every time somebody spoke. Needless to say, my customer friend was none too pleased with my new method of argument.

You can't beat the "WHAT!?" She tried. She yelled and flapped the gums and her friend kept telling me to step off and I just went on with the "WHAT!?" for a good minute or two.

By this time a crowd had gathered. A few customers, but mostly employees. I knew Jose would get the Austin imitation. I think that's probably why I did it. I aim to please my audience, after all.

After I had had enough of this woman, who was clearly very close to inflicting severe bodily harm upon me, I escalated from the "WHAT!?" (which is clearly an insulting and frustrating way to carry out an argument) to the single-best thing I've ever done in a heated confrontation (actually, second-best…but that's another story). I stuck my hand with my index finger up in a "Sshhh" motion. But I didn't put it in front of my lips. Oh, no! I stuck my hand right in her face. My finger had to be a good 6-8 inches from her lips.

She shut up and I walked away. Since I am a genius, I went and called the manager that was working at the time. What I had done could get me in trouble. I was quitting within two weeks anyway, but I did not need to deal with a lecture about how to handle unruly customers. So I told him the truth. At least, I told him the part of the truth that would not make my universe more difficult. I said there was a confrontational customer that was yelling and was likely disturbing the others. I told him the situation had died down, he said ok, and that was the end of it.

But I was a hero at that place. The other people on my level (maintenance and the stock people watching) marked out HUGE. Everyone had wanted to do what I had done. Who wouldn't want to stand up to a customer who felt she was right when, clearly, she was just a heinous hosebeast?

The funny thing is, the woman never bought the tomatoes that night. It seems more than a little ridiculous that something that made her THAT angry was not important enough to buy. I think I even offered to get them for her before she went all Linda Blair on me. I miss working. Not the actual work part, but the part where I can punk out the customers. That's fun.