| Comment | Weird shift in the charity shop today.
Touchy-feely old lady came in, hands outstretched, walked past the male volunteers to "ask the lassie" about cash for clothes. I explained we only take donations, we don't pay out, and got an indignant "Aye, I know that!", before she continued her spiel about that "y'know that cash for clothes, anyway, it's just that I've goat this stuff from my niece, it's too good to throw out, you know?".
I kept dodging her attempts to stroke my arms, smiling fixedly and repeating we don't do that kind of thing, got snapped at that I "wisnae much use then" and thankfully another customer intervened and directed her to the dodgy industrial units down the road that used to have a wee guy that would rake through your bags and refuse half the stuff if it didn't still have the tags on.
Second time within a month I've been trapped behind the counter with a customer trying to reach over to touch me. Yeah, I'm stand-offish aand maybe just tetchy today, but when I'm trapped behind the desk, I don't want my hands patted, shoulder grasped, or arm stroked by a relative stranger, thanks? |
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