True Porn Clerk Stories - Ali Davis [5]
Mr. Pig is the first customer to win a snotty note on his file from me. I refrained from the sport of snotty customer file notes for months. Most of the time it's a genuine warning ("This guy might be moving pricing stickers" "WATCH OUT FOR JIZZ-MASTER ZERO"), but sometimes it's just us blowing off steam or trying to crack each other up. My favorite is "Mr. Excitement!!!!!!!!!!" on the file of the guy who seems to be part tree sloth, while others favor "Engage, Number One!" on the file of the guy who looks a little too much like Johnathan Frakes.
Funny, yes, but unprofessional. I held off until I ran into Mr. Pig. He came up to the counter with his briefcase and two or three designer shopping bags. The counter is designed for two customers, but he piled all his stuff across it to take up the whole space. He pulled his videos out of his bags, handed me the new tags he wanted to check out, and then whipped out his cell phone to make a call.
I have to check an ID when someone rents new videos and, of course, get them to pay for their returns. Mr. Pig took up the whole counter and made me wait through his entire conversation -- about a very, very big deal and conducted at about 30,000 decibels -- before I could do either. When he finally got off, he said "Sorry, I had to do that. It was a big deal," just in case I'd missed that point.
Yes, important enough to hold up me and a line, but not so urgent as to, say, start the conversation before he came in.
Finally, stack of porn in hand, Mr. Pig pulled his briefcase and designer bags -- did I mention they were designer bags? Because he did. -- off the counter and left, and thus became the recipient of my first snotty note: "THIS MAN WANTS YOU TO KNOW THAT HE IS VERY, VERY IMPORTANT."
That was all I noticed about him the first time. Over time, though, he has burned himself into my brain. He always takes up the whole counter no matter who else is waiting, he usually shouts into his cell phone, and he always makes sure to allude to how very important he is. He has a password on his account, "KITTY". It's an old, old policy that a few old customers still use, but at least they're not freaks about it. The idea is that if you don't have ID, you can just give your password. We don't do it anymore, but we let old customers keep them. Mr. Pig is very, very proud of having a password. When we ask for ID, he shouts that he has a password, then leans in very close so the riffraff can't hear and whispers "Kitty".
I always ask him for his ID anyway. It drives him nuts. He wants to be a regular even more than Mr. Buddy does, and he hates it when I ask to see ID. He talks about the old managers, the old policies, and how long he's been here. Then I ask to see his ID. Sometimes I wonder if he leaves the store and bursts into tears.
So far, all of this is pathetic. Who the hell is that invested in impressing his video clerk? I should be unable to summon up an ounce of human feeling for Mr. Pig at all beyond pity. But no, it's a deep, burning antagonism.
It's the punch cards that got me. We give all our customers a gold punch card each month. Each time they return a movie, they get a punch. After six punches, they get a free rental. After another six, they get half off, then a free again. There are about 30 spaces. Some of the heavy porn renters make it through a few cards a month, so it's not unusual to give out a new card before the month is over.
Mr. Pig figured out that two frees in a row is better than a free and a half off, so he gets his free punch and then asks for a new card. So he's screwing the store out of $1.75 twice a month. Fine. It would be one thing if he just asked for his goddamned new card each time, but he can't just leave it at that. He's so proud of his penny-ante fucking over the store that he has to make a big deal out of it. "For heaven's sake," he'll bellow, "Can I PLEASE have a new card?" And then he won't quite have his old not-fully-punched card out of sight, in the hopes that the clerk will call him on it so he can launch into his speech