oh, bu-u-urn

picture it: not tonight, but the night before, i'm working the 4-close shift at the portrait studio and it's just like any other tuesday. i'm selling. that means i'm showing customers - "guests", is what we're supposed to call them - a slideshow of their photos and busting my ass trying to convince them to spend inordinate amounts of money on our in-studio portrait packages, but at the same time i'm trying not to be too obvious about it.

i'm selling to a couple. a childless couple, which more often than not is the best kind of couple, and you'll just have to trust me on that. this couple, though. this couple is different.

in some respects they aren't all that different from any other couple. for instance, the woman calls the shots. for instance, the woman has at least five of the exact same coupon, and has every intention of using every last one of them on the same portrait sitting. which isn't allowed.

so i say, that isn't allowed. "one coupon per day, per family." there's a sign that says the very same thing - "one coupon per day, per family" - taped onto the front counter.

and she counters, "we're not a family. we have different last names. we're two separate people."

and i say, "but you were both in the same portrait sitting."

and she says, indignant, "so what you're telling me is, i can't use these coupons."

and i say, "what i'm telling you is, you can't use more than one coupon per day, per family."

ten minutes later she has picked out which poses she wants and what sizes she needs of each pose and she is at the register, credit card in hand.

and i say, "there is a sitting fee of $9.99 per person."

and she says, "but we're a family."

so basically what she's saying is, "we're not a family if that costs extra, and we're not not a family if that costs extra." i guess. i don't know what she's saying, to be honest.

in conclusion: if you're going to try to con me (or the company i work for, in this case), at least get your goddamn story straight beforehand. jesus christ. DO I LOOK LIKE I'M FUCKING RETARDED? BECAUSE I AM NOT LITERALLY OR FIGURATIVELY FUCKING RETARDED. ALSO, YOU MAY WANT TO CONSIDER PICKING UP CREST WHITESTRIPS FOR YOUR HUSBAND. I'M JUST SAYING.