Snap, Whistle, Clap.

Snaps, whistles and claps are appropriate and accepted means to get your loyal dog to return to you after a game of fetch.  Snaps, whistles and claps are never, have never and (hopefully) will NEVER be an accepted means to get the attention of a customer service worker.

I'm not sure what kind of brain abnormality (other than general trashiness) one has to possess to think this is acceptable social behavior.  Where did you learn to socialize?  The zoo?  Perhaps that explains not only your lack of social skills, but your smell as well.

Though this happens on a fairly regular basis where I work, today's occurrence takes the cake.

I had the pleasure of helping a genuinely nice older couple who unfortunately didn't know shit about televisions.  When you get this type of customer, you spend an obscene amount of time dumbing down all the technical terms so they can sort of grasp all of the technical specifications surrounding electronics today.  

These people were not standing far away from me at all.  They were not silently debating their many TV options.  We were actively conversing.

Enter: quintessential rude, over privileged, trust fund toting, 20 something male.  Look, kid.  I am not commissioned.  Realistically I could give a shit less how much money you spend at this store.  You will shut the fuck up and wait your turn.

While my poor, techno-illiterate old couple was trying to absorb the knowledge I was dispersing, this piece of shit in a suit cleared his throat, made eye contact with me and proceeded to snap at me.  Not snapping to the beat of the wonderful musical stylings of The Bouncing Souls.  Oh no.  Snapping at me with a look that conveyed, "Bitch, come."

If you've met me, you are probably aware of my temper.  This temper just keeps getting shorter and shorter the more disgruntled I become.  An immediate way to make my restraint on said temper completely nonexistent is to treat me like I am stupid or beneath you.  This man, nay, boy, did both with only a look and a snap.

I smiled my, "you are just about to get your world fucked up" smile, cleared my throat, chuckled and responded with a raised index finger.  The raised index finger is the customer service worker's equivalent to a snap.  It is perhaps one of the rudest gestures someone can make to tell a person, "I'll be right with you."  It was one finger off from what he deserved.

I took my sweet ass time with my nice elderly couple, taking extra care to explain each individual specification in the easiest way possible.  I was executing my job to a "T" while doucher over there stood staring and audibly sighed every few seconds.

I eventually got to him and basically talked down to him the entire time.  He was not enjoying the fact that my intellect far surpassed his own (which, I might add, was less than impressive). Yes, I know more than you.  Yes, I am more articulate than you (this moron didn't understand the word "aesthetics." Fail.).  Yes, you improperly assumed I am uneducated because I work a blue collar job.  You lose on all accounts.

My hope is that one day I will be encouraged to respond to these customers in the only way that would generally make an impact; a good 'ole fashioned throat punch.