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Disgusting old lady with a nice personality



>Be me
>Working at retail
>One morning after a nightshift, there was an elderly lady at the door
>She looked pretty frail, so I ran over and grabbed it for her
>The instant the door was a few inches open, her arm shot out and grabbed my wrist
>I swear, she looked like a witch, wasted muscle under torn paper skin
>She thanked me in a crone voice, complaining about how she couldn't walk as well as she used to or something
>I helped her in to the store, but after a few steps the stench made me examine her more closely
>To my horror, I saw that she was leaking from every part of her body that was not flat skin

>Her eyes, nostrils, mouth, ears
>Everywhere was oozing orange ichor, and the stench of it was not of this world
>It was one of the few times I've been mortified in my life, but I pushed through it and consoled her, saying something like "Well, anything is better than nothing miss"
>I saw that her fingernails had begun sloughing off from the pressure of her vice grip on my wrist, leaving smears of ichor and blood up my arm
>She cracked a smile, seeing past my facade to the disgust that must have crept through
>A big, twisted evil grin, ivory peeking through putrescent orange puss
>I helped her to the counter, where she held herself up while I grabbed a few things around the store for her
>A packet of smokes, some milk and bread
>I offered her a coffee and she took a tea.
>She picked change out of her clasp purse and I looked away, I really didn't want to see what parts of her disintegrating body she left inside it
>I didn't count the money, as I knew it was short
>These kinds of people were always short
>I just set the money aside, thanked her, and helped her to the door, where she asked me for a hand down the step
>I obliged, and as she set foot on the ground she leaned bodily into me
>The feeling was not unlike sacks of rotten oranges (Orange picking being a job I had held previously), and left the side of my body wet and odorous.
>She drove away, and my heart started racing
>I ran to the office and locked myself in, stripped off my upper half and applied cleaning chemicals neat to every part of my skin where I could feel the crawling dread of her past contact
>I scrubbed and scrubbed, and discarded my work shirt
>The sludge came off easily, but some subconscious urge left every part of my skin feeling itchy and overly sensitive
>I managed to find another shirt in the car, and set about cleaning up the rest of the shop
>Smear marks on the glass door looked like something out of a zombie movie, the counter looked as though someone had been stabbed
>The coins I put in a cup of bleach and left for the next person on shift to figure out
>The shop stank until my next shift, but I managed to get rid of the most of it by morning
>She returned after that
>I learned that she hated everyone because she was dying, but every time she came in after that she was very, very friendly
>She did not ask me for help again, and if I offered she would tell me to get a towel first, or not to worry about her
>She told me that her kids and entire family had abandoned her when she got sick, and that she was just waiting to die, really
>I would talk with her when the shop was empty, but as soon as she saw another customer coming she would give me a squelchy wink and leave
>One day she stopped coming in, and I knew what had happened and even tried to chase down her family to tell them how she had been before she died
>I contacted one of them, and they didn't even know she was dead
>Their first question was "What, so, you looking for money or something?", and I hung up
>It really irks me, what customer service is these days
>My customer base trusted me so much they would tell me their credit card pins, or even just leave their fuel card in the shop and give me a wave when they were finished
>They would always leave the store happy, and would often confess that they came to my store if they were having a bad day, just to have some respite
 

Man, I love customer service.

read another greentext about strange customers

Comments

  1. wtf is orange ichor

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Mix of pus and blood probably.

      Delete

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F*cking cheaters

>be me
>16 year old 7/10
> just got out of relationship
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>friends ex gf
>he's over her now
>flirting a bit more
>w/e we've been friends for years prolly means nothing
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> wat? are we 5
>fine whatever
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How do I react to this /b/ros?