Crazy Cat Ladies and Mommy Issues

Junk Lady from Labyrinth

Last night, we had a customer come into Hallmark at about ten of nine.  (For those not aware, we close at nine.)  Normally, this is not a problem as most people are in and out pretty quickly when it's that close to our bitching hour.  Unfortunately, this is a semi-regular customer and she always arrives about 10-15 minutes before we close and stays until about 10-15 minutes after we've locked the doors to other customers.  She's dangerously overweight, has stringy dirty hair, and always smells of cat urine.  In my mind, she looks like this ------------------->

I know the lady has some issues, nothing serious but I recognize some of the same things my mother has gone through.  I get that the woman is depressed, lonely, etc.  She comes into my store and always buys the most useless things, spends too much, and writes a check.  Again, I have seen this before and sometimes I silently weep for this woman and those like her.  She uses a cane to support herself and always walks as slowly as she can.

Last night, had to be the worst.  I walked up to her as soon as I spotted her and asked if I could help her find something, knowing she would take her sweet time if I didn't.  She asked for the Warm Wishes, $.99, cards and I took her to the section.  I had to wait three times for her to catch up and I counted silently in my head so I could avoid being rude.  After we'd shut off the lights, at 9, and corralled people to the register she took her time looking at the jewelry on the counter.  I politely asked if there was anything else I could do to help and then started ringing out her purchases on a new register to get things rolling.  It was 9:10 when she finally pulled out her checkbook and 9:18 when I walked her to the door.  The entire process was so agonizingly slow that I wanted to scream in her face.  I literally had to choke down my rage as she fumbled in her purse for her license.

I know that half of my reaction was not this woman's fault.  It was the recognition in her of all the things I dislike about my mother.  That helplessness that makes me want to shout at someone until they cry and learn to be self reliant.  The mismanagement of money, when resources are already scarce.  Then I wonder if this woman has family.  I wonder if the cheap plastic bracelet is going to a daughter or niece somewhere; if it will be thrown in a pile of unnecessary things you keep because you don't want to hurt some one's feelings.  I wonder if that person ever thinks of the above scene in Labyrinth and can relate that character to their relative.  But I would bet money that this woman has no one.  She buys things for friends, or fellow church members, with a sweetness and true soul of giving.  And I remember to count to ten and realize that this woman is not my own mother.  I don't have to be angry with her.  She is a customer in my store and the only thing I have to be is polite and helpful.  So I go a bit over the top, so she doesn't feel isolated and judged, and then she seeks me out the next time she's in the store.  It's a vicious cycle.