The Independent Publisher
Working part-time in a luggage store that sold health and beauty aids in the upper west side of Manhattan we had many well-heeled customers.
This woman, in her 70s, approached the register and slapped a jar of expensive cold cream on the counter and accused me of cheating her. She glared at me.
I asked, “How could I possibly be cheating you?”
As she opened the jar she pointed at the cream, “You removed 25% of the cream in all the jars but are charging me full price. “
“But madam, the jars are larger because if the cream freezes in the winter while on the truck, it will shatter the jar. The cream is sold by weight.”
“How dare you tell me that? Do you think I’m stupid? Nothing expands when it freezes. I doubt you graduated high school.”
“Ma’am. I have a BS in Business from a private school, this is my part-time job, I work for Proctor & Gamble in the health care division. “ I then showed her my business card.
She glared again and said, “We’ll see about that. My husband and I own thousands of shares of P&G stock.”
“And so do I through my employee stock purchase plan for 6 years.”
And with that, she left the store.
I recall we had another elderly lady who was a regular. She was the complete opposite of the first woman. She had been a costar on a 1950’s TV comedy and did some Broadway work. She had a perpetual smile, bright eyes, and an engaging personality.
She stopped me one day, and looked around the store, “How do you manage to get all of these items in the store? There are so many and from different companies? You carry them in from the subway or car?”
“No ma’am, they are brought in by tractor-trailer early in the morning or late at night.”
She had a puzzled look, “A tractor — you mean like they use on a farm to plow the fields?”
I tried to describe it to her but got nowhere, There wasn't any passing on the street and this was long before Google or smartphones. She smiled and said, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.
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