![]() Mum: “This is ridiculous! Let me talk to your manager.” Me: “As I already said, they cause damage to the boards, and we’ve asked him to stop.” Mum: “He does travel stickers! I would know!” We have had to throw dozens of boards away and spend hours removing his stickers.” Me: “Sorry, but we’ve caught him on camera. I grab him, and she goes on telling a twisted version painting her son as the next in line to be the Pope. Manager: “You can pay for the boards yourself or find another store to shop at.” Manager: “So you’re admitting that your son has damaged hundreds of pounds’ worth of our equipment, and now you’re complaining when a member of staff asked him to stop?” The manager listens for a while before interrupting. ![]() She spluttered, complained, and threatened to complain to corporate. My manager offered to manage it through the police if she really wanted to escalate it. The best part wasn’t seeing her leave but denying her service a week later when she tried to shop in disguise. When I was fifteen, I caught the same bus every Saturday to get to my flute lesson. I usually left early so I had some time to spare. One such Saturday morning, I left even earlier than usual. It was fairly cold and there was a light rain, so I was wearing an long, red coat and had a decent-looking umbrella.
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