When I was in my senior year of high school, I took a part-time job working at the local movie theater. It paid reasonably well, enough for me to have a bit of pocket money, and despite the management’s strange stance that high schoolers had nothing better to do in their spare time than work, I did like the job. My coworkers were nice, I got to watch bits of the latest films during my breaktime, and I always came home smelling like popcorn.
It was also my very first foray into the wild and maddening world of customer service, and as the months passed, I saw more than my fair share of rude, dense, uncooperative, and downright dickish customers. Most of them have faded into the background over time, but there was one experience I had that rattled me so badly that I still recall it now.