Precious Employees
I worked at a library. The post office was down the street and around the corner, about three blocks away. A lady waltzed into the library with that angry “Karen” face and haircut and slammed her pointer finger on the table.
She said, “I JUST called and was told the post office was open. I drove all the way down here, and it’s closed. WHY was I told it was open if you’re just going to close after you hang up?”
I had a dumbfounded expression on my face. I had no idea who this woman was or why she was shouting at me. I responded, “They must have closed early, but ma’am, you never called here. This is the library.”
That was a huge mistake. She said, “I JUST CALLED. I know it was you I spoke to. I just had to dress a screaming two-year-old and drag her into the car, so I could get my mail, and you lied.”
I knew I was in big trouble because my boss was in the other room, and she always wanted the patrons to be pleased. I went and got my boss anyway, so I had a quick chance to tell my side of the story first.
Shockingly, my boss took my side instantly and screamed at the woman for yelling at her “precious employees.” The lady fell silent and stomped away like a mad toddler. I was a happy librarian that day.