The Child Hating Manager

It has been my unfortunate experience to be the Manager who is always scolding someone else's kid.  Before you parents jump down my throat, I work in an ADULT store.  You must be 21 years of age or older to come into my store unless you are with a parent.  

Parents do bring in their children.  For the most part, they are well behaved.  But, there are always a few parents who let their children run wild in a large 25,000 square foot store with multiple exits.  Parents don't care if someone kidnaps their kid as long as their wild ones get away from them.  

Usually, it's some kid running around the store by himself.  I stop them and ask them where their mother or father is.  Then I bring the child back to the parent and explain to mommy or daddy that this is an adult store and that little Jimmy must be with mommy or daddy at all times.  The parents never say anything to me.  They don't scold their kids.  They usually look too beat down to care.

One day, a child about 7-8 years old came into the store, alone, holding a box of candy.  My first words were, "where are your parents."  He said, "my dad's in the car."  I said, "you can't be in here without him."  He said, "I'll go get him."  I said, "You can't sell your candy here."  We have a strict no soliciting policy.

In fact, what are parents thinking when they ask us if their kids could sell their cookies or candy or do can-shakes OUTSIDE OF A LIQUOR STORE!  Good family values at an early age, folks.

My favorite kid story involves two kids.  Mommy and Daddy are shopping and their 2 wild beasts are running around the store.  RUNNING.  I see one kid and start after her.  Then, in the back of the store, I see the boy KICKING a beach ball around the store I work in which is made mostly of glass!  I run to the back of the store.  They were slippery.  Just disappeared.  I turned around and made my way to the middle of the store and see one kid chasing the other.  I put up the STOP hand sign.  I started my battery of questions, escorted the kids back to the parents and explained that in no way could their kids be playing ball in the store.

Now, about that beach ball.  It was ours.  It was on a display of beer.  The beer was at least 8 cases high and the ball was WAY at the top attached to the ceiling.  Guess how that kid got it?  HE CLIMBED UP!

Parents, now I know why you need alcohol.

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