I work at a Dollar Tree and this happened yesterday:
- Me: *scanning items and placing them into a bag*
- Lady: *looks at a guy with a face tattoo* omg I could never get a tattoo on my face. Actually, I couldn't get a tattoo period. Imagine what that's gonna look like when he's 80 years old. Skin saggy, wrinkled, it's gonna look like shit. I can't believe he did that to himself. He's gonna regret that later when he doesn't find a good job. No one will hire him.
- Me: * stops bagging and looks at her* ma'am, no disrespect, but I think he could care less about what he's gonna look like when he's 80 years old. Trust me, he knows what he did. From the size of that tattoo, it took at least 4 hours. I, for one, think he has guts for getting it. That's seriously one painful tattoo. I have 2 tattoos, and I'm obviously working. By the time I'm 30, I'm gonna be covered. Do you think I care what they'll look like when I'm older? Nah, couldn't care less. Because my tattoos represent my loved ones, my dreams, desires, passions, and beliefs. Why the hell would I regret that?
- Lady: *pauses* guess I never thought of it that way.
- Me: again, no disrespect, but maybe instead of judging a book by its cover, why don't you try reading it a little further before making assumptions *takes bag and hands it to her* have a nice day.
- Lady: *leaves in a hurry*
- Guy next in line: *watches herb leave then looks at me* that was brilliant.