A true story

On his blog, my friend Skip posted a link to a site with a lot of descriptions of situations demonstrating that the customer is not always right. Reading some of them reminded me of a customer we had when I was working for a bank at a small branch a few miles north of Brighton, although I hasten to add that this doesn't fall into the "customer is not always right" category. This all happened many years ago, in the time when banks put ink pots and dip pens on the counter for the use of customers.

This particular lady was, to put it mildly, a sandwich short of a picnic, although she did seem to have times when she was quite normal. Her actions when not quite with it ranged from the bizarre (like pushing open the door, poking her head round and thumbing her nose at us cashiers before darting out again) to the uggh.

One day she walked into the branch, took one of the ink pots off the counter and placed it on the floor. She then proceeded to pull up her skirt, push down her underclothes, and squat on the ink pot. And guess who had to clean up the floor?