One of the boys clicks his fingers at me. They both go on like this, making lewd comments, leering, and touching themselves.
He stops as there is a distinct scraping noise as [Scary Guy] pushes back his chair, stands up, and looms over him. Wet yourself? I step back from the counter, shaking, and he leans in toward them both.
Afterward, I come down here, and these nice people take care of me, even if I am in a bit of a mood or feeling sad. We clear? May we please have some beers? He sat down in his seat and then spoke to the frat boys for about half an hour in the sweetest way, without any animosity, talking about mistakes he had made when he was younger and how he had come to regret them.
Both of the frat boys apologised again before leaving, and one came by the next day to drop off flowers and a note. That explains why the kid is awake so late and a little bit sooky and sad-looking.
They come up to the counter and she pays for her purchases. I worked for twenty years in a hardware store before retiring to be a more hands-on grandmother. In my entire career in retail this remains my absolute favorite moment where one perfect moment proceeded another. As I know I will be leaving soon I have given up hiding behind a customer service smile to these idiots.
