Used to work in a corner shop...
In a very small town. The shop was owned by an Indian family who lived in a flat above it (this is important). Worked there for about two years (gods, why?) so I got to know who the troublemakers were after not too long.

(I have loads of these, I'll post more later)

One day, however, a couple of months before I left, this bloke wanders in who I've never seen before. (At this point I was only working Sundays, so I knew 90% of the people who came in and could probably predict when they'd come and what they'd buy)

Now this bloke is quite old, probably late 50's, early 60's, and looks a bit worse for wear. Nothing too unusual there, lots of people in that place do. Then I notice that he's talking to himself. Well, muttering. And looking around the shop in the same way a rabbit looks around a snakepit.

He stood in the doorway near the DVDs (for we rented them out) for a few minutes and then wandered off up the far isle in a ery shuffling way. (This being a very small shop, we only had two, seperated by sets of display shelves I could see over.) He stops occasionally, picks things up and then puts them back, muttering something incoherant the whole time.

By this point, I was starting to think maybe he was a bit mad. Not one to judge, I let him get on with it as he seemed harmless enough.

After walking the entire length of the shop and spending a over-long amount of time staring at the cakes, he purchases a Creme Egg. Which had been sitting on the counter.

He picked one up, slid it across the counter (They were on the opposite end to the till), and I scanned it in. He slid me a pound coin.

At this point I thought it would be worth explaining to him that Creme Eggs were on offer and he could get three for his pound instead of just one for about 50p. He just gave me a look as if I was mad.

I slid him his change and his Egg and he shuffled off, muttering to himself again. And I thought that was it.

Until about an hour later when he came back and repeated the whole thing. Right down to buying a single Creme Egg. Only this time as I gave him his change, he raised his voice so I could hear what he was muttering.

Dear god, that scared the crap out of me.

He was, by now, almost yelling about how "it wasn't my fault, the landlords out to get me, it wasn't my fault. What am I going to do now? I've got nowhere to go. nowhere to go. what do I do? It wasn't my fault" and similar, sounding, in all honesty, like a man possessed.

And then he seemed to notice I was there.

I was treated to another tirade about how it wasn't his fault etc, and then... THEN he asked if there was any room in my house.

This is NOT the sort of thing an 18 year old girl wants from a bloke like this.

Me: Uhm.... no....sorry...
Him: You sure?
Me: Yes....
Him: But what am I going to do?
M: I don't know... I'm sorry...
H: I've got nowhere to go... it wasn't my fault you know.
M: ....
H: What about them upstairs?
M: Uhm... I don't think they have, no...
H: What am i going to do? Do you know anywhere I could go?
M: No... maybe the police could help?

That really seemed to aggravate him. He started off into a rant about the police and how they'd say it was his fault and lock him up.

By now I was thinking "oh shit oh shit oh shit" and wishing I had a panic button. Or somebody else on the till. As it was, the button to get the attention of Them Upstairs was broken and they weren't there anyway.

Eventually, he got bored or forgot I was there and wandered away, clutching his creme egg and muttering to himself, leaving me stood there, pretty shaken.

At which point the owner of the shop came down the stairs and asked me what the bloke wanted.

Bastard.
(TuftyBee should have been working on, Tue 9 Sep 2008, 12:28, Reply)