Customers: Part 06 - Restroom

     "I don't like old people," I stated.
     The Boss had been chewing my ass out.
     A wobbly old codger had mistaken our store for a public latrine. White headed, 120 lbs bag of bones. He looked about 88. Probably had a pea sized bladder. He tottered inside the store mindlessly for five minutes. Took him that long to mosey from the front entry to Video. Reconnaissance mission. Searching for our restroom. After that ... my guess was the After-Life.
     Diana was still counting in the Money Room, The Boss worked papers in the Office, Pat tended Video, Rob carried inventory charts, I tidied Classical, someone else ran front register.
     Six employees worked that morning. The decrepit fossil could have approached five of those six and gotten a happy face.
     No, I'll go further. There were about 25 names on payroll. The old fart could have sought out 24 sympathetic human beings.
     Instead, he walked up to me.
     "I'm sorry, do ya'll have a bathroom?"

     I looked up. We had restrooms. They weren't public, but nicer employees made exceptions now and then. Pregnant women, infants.
     Old folks.
     Grandpa, however, had chosen unwisely. I jabbed my thumb at the front exit.
     "Tom Thumb's that way," I barked, and walked off.
     No wonder Russian Roulette was popular worldwide. If I'd been a pistol, he'd be bleeding all over the floor.
     Last I saw, he was creeping out the front. Maybe he made it to Tom Thumb's public restroom. Maybe not. Like I cared.
     Next thing I knew, The Boss flung open the swinging doors and stormed my way.
     "Did you refuse to let some senior citizen use our facilities?" he yelled.
     "Sure. We don't have a public restroom. He wasn't buying anything anyway. He just came in to tinkle. He'd only make a mess."
     How did The Boss know? The guy had eyes in the back of his head. Literally. His eyes had rolled up into his skull. Imminent warning signal he was about to erupt. Aww, shit. He'd yell, send me home, put me on probation. Jeez. Because some old man wouldn't wear diapers.
     "What is the matter with you? Have you no shred of human sympathy whatsoever?"
     I shrugged. Big mistake. More gasoline. What an idiot I was.
     "I just hope that someday you find yourself, a bitter, helpless elderly man, and no one lets you use their restrooms!"
     "I don't like old people."
     Screaming worsened.
     I got trash duty all week.
     Damn, it was hot.

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