The Gift

After a second unsatisfactory visit at our store, the Queen of the Universe and All Time asked where the bathroom was. We explained that it was out of order. That didn't stop her from going on in. Another employee saw her enter and told her, AGAIN, that it was out of order. She said, "I know," and proceeded to use it, WITH THE DOOR OPEN. At least the light was off!

After she was done, an employee went in and found the grand gift that the Queen had left for us: the gift of her urine. It was all over the toilet seat, on the sides of the toilet, and formed a puddle on the floor, as well. I was ready to try out Duh Boy's method of cleaning the bathroom—with a water hose—but the store manager cleaned it up with paper towels, then locked the bathroom door so no one else could go in. (We've had several disgusting bathroom incidents lately.)

On the Queen's third visit I hid. Surprise, she had the same problem as before. Another employee helped her, showing her a product that was totally inappropriate for what she needed it for. However, she bought it, all five bucks worth. I hope she's happy with it, because I have a feeling that she's not into keeping receipts for returns. When you're the Queen of the Universe and All Time, rules don't apply to you.

Three visits, 90 minutes of employee time (100 if you count the time it took to clean and disinfect the bathroom), and a five dollar purchase. Wow. Some people.