"She had apparently been expending great effort to tolerate me..."

She was one among many. Your average rich bitch shopping for costume jewelry at our Upper West Side boutique. After browsing, she finally approached me at the counter with a box and some tattered tissue paper. In it was pair of tarnished earrings she wanted a refund for. Offering no excuse other than not liking them, and unapologetic about her lack of receipt, she demanded her money back in a raspy New York accent. Explaining that our policy made no room for such situations, I denied her request. On the spot, she developed a story about her son sending them to her as a present and plead her case again. If this was true, it was unclear which year they had been a Christmas present for-- the earrings were not in good shape. Because there was no manager available, I did what I thought was the most generous thing in my power, which was to offer her store credit.

The realization that she was not getting any cash from me swept over her face. She digressed quickly, and proceeded to go through our entire store naming all of our displays "Garbage!" or "Hideous!" or "Disgusting!" She had apparently been expending great effort to tolerate me from the beginning.

Finally, with all decorum out the window, she spat, "You're an ASShole!"

Practically in the same breath she asked what my name was. I politely told her. With a that figures look on her face and on her way out the door, she said, "Well, that'll be easy to remember, I know another Leah that's an ASShole!"

And with a that figures look on my face, I went about my day.

contributed by Leah M. Blunt