Ok, so I might have totally overreacted to this, but it was bad service...
Christmas 2008, I am shopping in my town. Now, my town is small, not poor, but not super rich either. This is important. I go to the Blockbuster, get some presents, go to a local bookstore, get some stuff there. Everything is going well, I'm pleased with what I bought. I go to our local Mart that begins with the eleventh letter of the alphabet, and this is where things go bad. Well, at the end of my time there it does. Now, what you must know is that the anti-theft alarms we used to have in the store are old, terribly, terribly old. They go off when there is nothing being stolen. Just, random times, random customers. They malfunction a lot. They still do. My town is honestly to poor or the corporate just can't get new ones to us, and that's fine. I have nothing against them. I personally love the store. But again, they go off a lot. Sometimes it'll go off six times in a row, and no one has stolen anything.
Anyway, I pay for my stuff, and leave, the alarm goes off. Whatever, I go back inside. I'm used to it going off, so are all the employees who have worked there for a long time. But the people they had checking the bags were new, I could tell. I have absolutely NOTHING against the people who work there. They are nice, wonderful people. Heck, most of them are either my neighbor, people I go to school with, or my dad's clients (he's a vet) , but these two, they were different. I saw them when I walked in, and when I was in line. They were standing there, by the exit, like they were CIA agents. A guy and a woman. Maybe in their forties. Seriously. CIA agent attitudes. Like they were somehow better than the rest of us because they got to look through our stuff. I noticed, when I was in line, that they had actually GRABBED A TWELVE YEAR OLD'S ARM, roughly, when the dysfunctional alarm went off.
As I was paying, I looked somewhat mortified I suppose. What if the alarm went off when I went through? What would happen? My friend Cassie saw my expression, she was the cashier. She whispered to me that they were getting complaints about the bag checkers, but to not worry too much. I nod, ok, I trust her. I go through the door, and sure enough, the dysfunctional alarm goes off. Guy glares at me, woman is sneering, and they motion for me to come over to their little table. W/E. They're just doing their job. They check my bag, nothing I haven't paid for. A bath set for my sister, Star Wars mug for my brother. They have me go through without my stuff, to test it, and, sure enough, it goes off again. Like I said, old alarm. But noooooo do they grasp that? Nope. They look through my PURSE as if the tiny little thing could hold anything. They find nothing, my inhaler (I have a fairly severe case of asthma ), cellphone, my O'Neill wallet, and an obviously old pack of tic-tacs. Another person walks through, alarm goes off, I can see the manager and a maintenance guy walking from the back to see what's wrong with it this time. Good, I think. But, our 11th letter-mart is big, so it takes a couple of minutes to get to the front. I go through again, the alarm goes off. It is important to note that I am wearing a t-shirt, no jewelry except my cross necklace, pants with NO pockets on them, and sandal like shoes.
The GUY looks at me like I'm some criminal , and then says he's going to PAT ME DOWN to check for whatever it was I apparently stole. Oh HELL NO. No, no , no. I will allow the police to enter my room to talk to me (if necessary and the time arrives), I will allow my doctor to examine me, I will allow PEOPLE I TRUST to enter my personal bubble, but NOT some forty year old guy , who, by now, has been acting like a total jerk to me and the other customers, basically FEEL ME UP, to 'find a stolen item'. And he tried too, he actually TOUCHED MY SIDE. I told him no, do not touch me. He glared at me, the woman, once again, gave me a look like 'Well you ain't got anything to hide do you?'. I tell him I will report him to the manager, who by then is up front with the maintenance guy, looking at the alarm. He, still with a god complex, throws my Mart bag, along with the other bags from the other stores he and the odd lady INSISTED on checking, and told me to leave before he called the cops. Um, WTF?!
Needless to say, I complained to the manager, who was polite, kind, and a total gentleman. He offered to give me store credit, but I declined. I just wanted him to know what his employees had done. I left after that. I felt violated.