The Quintessential Villainess

I dealt with a psychotic customer today.

Oh, excuse me.  I forgot.

Disclaimer:  The opinions of this blog vixen are hers exclusively and are not affiliated with that of Nordstrom, Clinique or its subsidiaries.

Why is it that the most vile, the most unattractive and unapologetically wretched folks are the ones who stamp their image into my brain?  Into my BLOG?

Why can't my mind be overwhelmed with thoughts about the woman who told me how much she liked me for being honest about the foundation I thought was best for her (Sorry Clinique, that would be one by Estee Lauder).  And how we bonded so much that she opened a Nordstrom account with me without even batting an eye.  Or about the shy girl who never wore makeup who I sat down and applied a whole face of color to and she walked away with such a smile on her face that after she'd already left she came back just to say, Thank you, Teresa.  And it felt fantastic even though she didn't purchase a single item.

But no. 
Today I do not, in fact, have a heartwarming tale of inspiration and sister hood.
Today I have a story of the Wicked Witch of Clinique who spewed such nasty venom it left me with an overwhelming sense of ickiness.

Clinique is great.
If my executives are reading this IT'S THE BEST BRAND IN THE WORLD!
However.
This best brand has produced some of the craziest of the crazies I've seen this side of Starbucks.
The price point is low.  So that means we're not dealing with the classy well to do of Chanel.  Or the compulsive teens of M.A.C.  No, we're dealing with the frugal, no nonsense woman who KNOWS what she wants because SHE'S been using Clinique for YEARS.  (Emphasis THEIRS).  They want. what. they. want. how. they. want it and they don't want to see what's new.  They want the foundation they've been wearing the past 20 years. 
Ahem.  Can you see where this is going?

The best part, the BEST. PART. of this whole interchange is that the product the woman wanted is so obsolete I hadn't even heard of it my whole month working there.  That means in the thousands of dollars I've rung the past 4 weeks, not ONE single woman has requested this item.  Exhibit A, friends of the jury.

Fortunately, for my own sake, I discovered this product for the first time this morning.  We moved our entire bay to a different part of the store. 
Good Morning, 6am!  Oh how I've missed thee so!  Oh, but I mean the opposite of that. 
And while packing up different drawers I stumbled across this little handcream.  Thank you, sweet Jesus, for this moment of learning, for heaven help me had I not known the product the Wicked Witch of Clinique had wished for! 
What's this?  I'd asked a co worker.  It's a handcream that's AMAZING, she informed me. 
Huh, I thought and tossed it in a box.

Cut to MANY hours later and the WWOC (she is so evil she gets her own acronym) asked me if we have any of the handcream.  I was SO elated at not only knowing what she was talking about having laid eyes on it earlier but I figured she would for sure be thrilled as well that we had what she wanted!  I searched a couple drawers looking for the one magical bottle and she reached her hand into the drawer to pull it out before I could.  You found it!  I declared in grins.  Hooray! 
Is that all you HAVE?  The WWOC uttered slowly through gritted teeth.  Jilted by her sudden shift in mood I hesitated before maintaining my cheer and marched over to the computer. 
Well, it looks like this is the only one we have in this store but I can definitely get some sent to you from another store and.....

NO! she roared.  And continued on a diatribe about how she'd driven all the way out there and Nordstrom didn't deserve her business because they didn't keep on hand the products that consumers used and she was going to give her business to Neiman Marcus because THEY would send the product to her and.......BLAH. BLAH. BLAH. BLAH. BITCH.

NO! she didn't want me to send any more to her.  NO! she thought I was an idiot for citing that we didn't have control over ordering stock and received what the warehouse sent us.  NO! she wanted me to tell my managers how irate she was.  Excuse me, that vocab word is much too large for her.  I'm quite certain she said how mad she was.  As in CRAZY.  Crazy like a fox!  A meth pumping, haggard looking, ratty sweats wearing fox!  It is never the beautiful who act so ugly.  Think about it.

I would like you all to take a moment and be proud of me that I just ignored her and rang the transaction as I would any other.  Though what I WANTED to do was say, So you're mad, you're furious with me because I HAVE the product you want?  You drove here to get this hand cream and I have that very hand cream you desire.  And yet you are irrationally angry with me because I don't magically have 20 containers of the hand cream?  Maybe you shouldn't be so damn selfish.  Maybe you should go visit J-A-P-A-N and realize THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS IN LIFE THAN YOUR PRECIOUS FUCKING HAND CREAM!!!!

But I didn't.  I was a good little sales girl and I apologized for being so low in stock and for her being so upset.  I even asked if she wanted a bag for her beloved hand cream to which she replied NO! 

It's good she loves trees because it's clear the only human she is capable of caring about is her self. 
That is if witches count as humans.

And I suspect NO!