In the field of my personal classification of the coffee bar people, there are the health, conscious, obstinate former smokers which in a mere tobacco’s shop (meaning without other services as food and beverage) never enter, on principle.
The dialogue with them is enough agitated, so I have to try not to pull the rope too much (an Italian way to say not to exaggerate) and it’s necessary to pull off my best smile.
I say: “Good morning! Do you smoke? “.
Health enthusiast person: “No, thank goodness,” he looks at me with bloodshot eyes and raising his voice a couple of shades than before, attacking me, “and you, what kind of work are you performing??? Convince people to smoke! Get out of my sight! “, all pronounced joined and possibly in apnoea.
I understand that there is no air and that if he could, he would have given fire to me, lighting me from my hair just to make me disappear and then reduce me to smoke and ash just like the cigarettes that I carry around.
I’d just like a shovel…to bury myself for the embarrassment.
Lesson n. 8 – Being a tobacco’s hostess is a job not well accepted by people.
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