Just when I thought...

Okay.
Today I got in a fight with a lady who is maybe a million years old.
First of all--this lady refers TO HERSELF as "Mrs. Claflin." She calls and says, "Hello, this is Mrs. Claflin." I get that she's old, and super old-school southern blah blah. BUT SHE SIGNS HER CREDIT CARD SLIP "Mrs. Claflin." She does have a first name. I swear. She just refuses to use it.

So today she called at a time when we had one person on every floor, and she had a really, really lousy connection. That wasn't my fault, as I'd been using our phone fine all morning. She wanted a mystery book and I offered to transfer her to that department. No. Not acceptable. "I don't want to be transferred, go check for yourself. I TAKE A CAB THERE!" Whoa. I stated that we had FORTY copies of said book and that if she didn't want to be transferred, she could go right up to the second floor when she arrived and they would be MORE than happy to find her book.

Again. Unacceptable. "I never go to the other floors. I am Mrs. Claflin! They bring my books to the front register!" As I gritted my teeth and tried to explain that, yes, we try to do that WHEN WE HAVE PEOPLE, I couldn't do that this instant. Meanwhile, over the static she starts to get angry:

"I take a cab to get there! I expect to have my book waiting! I AM YOUR BEST CUSTOMER! Get. My. Book." And then...she hung up on me.

Cut to me bashing the phone receiver against my head.

All day I dreaded her arrival, but some dear, loving diety was looking down upon me, for I saw her marching out of the store right when I returned from my (glorious) lunch break.

So not only did i eat a brie, green apple and honey mustard on fresh bread, but I avoided Mrs. Claflin.