After a year of working as a sales associate at a well-known, fast fashion chain in downtown New York, I’ve had my fair share of good and bad customers. A good, appreciative, understanding customer can make even the most stressful, cramped, miserable days of retail (which, let’s face it, are many and close between) feel like a stroll through a well aerated, uncrowded, naturally lit park. Well, almost.

I’ve had ladies shriek with delight when I’ve handed them the store’s last pair of suspender tights that Rihanna wore. Or the flag-print hotpants Rihanna wore. Or anything Rihanna wore. Many customers have specifically requested my name following our interaction, so as to tell my higher-ups how helpful they found me (though sadly, I do not work on commission). One customer literally jumped up and down hugging me when I returned from an arduous journey to the stock room and back with last season’s faded pink skinny jeans that were no longer on the sales floor. “I hope you’re here next time I come,” she squealed, “I’m going to ask for you!” To which I replied, “For my sake, let’s hope I’m not.”

So what, you ask, has caused this level of embitterment?

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