I was the overworked, overeducated sales associate for the multinational power-hungry retail company. You are the evil Irvine housewife/concubine who decided that I wasn't worth the time to be polite to. When you came barrelling up to me, asking whether we had a specific item in the back, I told you politely, with an apology: "No, we don't." (See, I would know that because I do shipments all day.) Because you felt the need to complain to corporate, corporate offered us a solution. We now have to lie. Yep, from now on, my co-workers and I have to tell a customer that we're going to the back to look for something even when we know we don't have it. In fact, we don't even keep our extra stock in back. So, thanks. Now I get to eat Doritos on your time.
Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to "Hey, You!" c/oOC Weekly, 1666 N. Main St., Ste. 500, Santa Ana, CA 92701-7417, or e-mail us at firstname.lastname@example.org.