First of all, lower your voice. Yelling at the pimpled teenage boy across the counter will not fix the mistake that you made. Telling him that he’s incompetent does not mean that you aren’t, and honestly, I am not fooled by the white button up shirt and red tie, or by your over-styled sandy brown hair. I can see what you are, and you are mean. You are a bully, and you just screamed at another human being over a $1.05 mistake. I hope you feel embarrassed, because you are embarrassing. You are what is wrong with the world, because it’s not bombs or bullets or bathrooms that are ruining society, it’s people.

Please, no. Do not smile at me. I do not think this is funny. Do not include me in your little tantrum over paper glossiness. Do not motion towards the retreating back of the boy who’s off to find his manager and scoff about how hard it is to get help nowadays. I am not impressed, and I am not fooled. You are not solving the problem. You are the problem.

This isn’t about paper anymore, it’s about people. You’re still smiling at me, like you’re waiting for a punch line, and there isn’t one, unless it’s a line to punch you. Because I know this isn’t the first time you’ve treated someone poorly. You have perfected the art of making people hate themselves and their work and their life.

That boy isn’t going to say anything back to you, he won’t stand up for himself because he can’t, because he needs this minimum wage piece of crap job, and I can tell he needs it because you aren’t the first person to treat him like this. He’s red around the ears, but he isn’t cowering, he isn’t flinching, he’s pasted on a smile and his shaky hands are trying to type numbers into the old plastic register. This isn’t customer service, this is war, and you, sir, are a villain. You are a bully, and you’re the worst kind because he would have loved to help you if you didn’t bite your cheek and scowl at him and point at the product before saying, “Are you effing joking me?”

No, don’t interrupt me, I’m not done. If you want to solve a problem, that’s fine. Just remember who you are speaking to. You are speaking to another human being with thoughts and dreams like you, and you are treating a living, breathing person like a piece of trash. Your mother would be ashamed, and you ought to be too.

I did not say that to you. I wish I had. I hope somebody does. I should have told you to give the kid a break. I should have tossed four quarters and a nickel at you and told you to leave, but I let you bully the boy. Afterwards, I gave him a smile and apologized for you, but I didn’t say anything to you when you mentally assaulted the teenage boy behind the counter.

Now you tell me.

Which is worse?