As I posted a few days ago, I used to work in a photo lab and being in there led to situations that scarred me for life. Here is one, and once again, I’m telling on myself, but I’d bet that everyone who reads this would do the same thing I did.
I had only been working in the photo lab for a few months when this happened. Back then, digital cameras were just on the verge of taking off, but hadn’t yet, so most of what we were doing back then was developing film. One day, I processed a roll and was running it through the computer. As we ran the film through the computer, we would look at the pictures to make sure the pictures took and that there was nothing inappropriate in them, that way we only printed the pictures that we would be able to sell. There was a whole lot of inappropriate in this roll of film.
Every single picture was of a woman, who was between 50-60 years old and around 100 lbs overweight, looking like she was trying out for Hustler. They were the nastiest pictures I’ve ever seen. I’m not even going to describe them to you, because I don’t want to cause you to get sick. Needless to say, we were not able to print any of her pictures. We didn’t charge her anything and were going to give her the negatives when she showed back up. The other girl who was working with me went to break and, of course, that’s when this woman shows up to pick her pictures up. If her boyfriend showed up to get them, I would’ve been fine. Since it was her, I had problems.
I couldn’t look at her. Every time I tried, I felt like I was going to throw up. She was also getting angry with me for not printing the pictures and began yelling. Normally, I would’ve been able to handle this situation, but I couldn’t this time since I was staring at the register. Not knowing what else to do, I told her that I was going to go and get somebody that would be able to help her better than I could. I went back to the break room and told the other girl that there was a customer out there that had requested her personally because she had helped that customer before. She went back out to help the Hustler-wannabe lady (not knowing it was the Hustler-wannabe lady), but I stayed back in the break room (even though it was nowhere near time for me to go to break) and smoked a cigarette, hoping that by the time I got done, she would be gone. She was.
As soon as I got back out there, the other girl started yelling at me for pawning the customer off on her and calling me an asshole. She was right to do so, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was never having to see that lady ever again, and I accomplished my goal.