January 19, 2008


In the early nineties, my mother owned a small grocery store in Philadelphia, in a small strip mall with a Dollar Store on one end. My younger brother, sister and I worked there regularly.

A classic scene:

Customer: How much for the Tylenol?

(Brother takes it off the shelf behind him, dusts off the cap.)
Brother: Eight ninety-nine. No tax.

Customer: EIGHT NINETY-NINE! Yo I can get that from the dollar store for ninety-nine cent! You crazy?

(Sensing trouble brewing)
Brother: NINETY-NINE CENT? Yo you better read the label —that's TYLE-NO not TYLENOL! That shit's TYLE-NO!

Customer cracks up. Pays. Leaves.

posted at 09:23 PM by jenn

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01/21/08 02:13 PM

that's good customer service - yo.

02/04/08 05:02 PM

my mom calls it ty-leh-nor..

02/14/08 09:36 AM

man, that brings back so many childhood memories. spending my weekends sitting on a stool taking money from the neighborhood kids getting hugs and a bag of chips.

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