The Wrong Color

“I spend a ton of money here.”

Mason remarked once that this was one of the things they said to demand respect. The richer they were, the crazier. This one was freaking out because the shade of flowers she loved was “off”. It was darker, or lighter, or more yellow, or more red. It wasn’t really clear, but whatever the case, she wasn’t happy. Ashley just stood there taking her verbal onslaught.

“I don’t understand. I get the same variety every year. My garden will be ruined without it.”

Ruined? Ashley was pretty sure this lady would survive even if this wasn’t the exact shade of orange. She had experienced it before. Some person, usually a lady, came in looking for some unrealistic color to match the drapes in her house. Ashley understood decorating, but everything could be taken too seriously. Some people spent hours deliberating over the same shrubs, others focused on color, and people were always obsessed with numbers. Mason said it was just someone making rules to justify a job, but it worked on these people.

“What are you going to do about it?”

The response she wanted to give was “Nothing.” The lady was demanding, rude, and completely insane. She had this passive aggressive tone and entitled personality. She was just a request for the manager away from being a Karen. Ashley was sure that was next if her answer didn’t satisfy the woman. It made sense that she was alone. She was a nightmare. If she had a family they likely tried to avoid her every chance they got.

“Well, I can tell my boss the name of the variety you like and he can buy it for you.”

“I don’t have the exact name.” The lady huffed.

“And you’re sure these aren’t it?”

“Positive. I have been buying the same color for four years now. I have pictures of last years gardens on my phone. I’ll pull them up so you can see.”

Ashley waited patiently for the woman to sift through her pictures. Older people were terrible with phones. She opened and closed ten apps before landing on her photos each time swearing and blaming the phone. Then she spent time scrolling through her photos. Photos of her kids, her house, her vacations, and of course, herself. It was probably only thirty seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Kevin passed by while watering and gave her a quizzical look. She dismissed him with a slight shake of her head and a look that suggested she had everything under control. There was no need to drag everyone into it.

“See, right here.” The woman thrust the phone at her.

“Ma’am, those look the same as these.”

“Well, they’re not. These are a totally different color than the ones I buy.”

There was no difference between the flowers in her photo and the ones on the table. Mason didn’t believe the customer was always right, and he didn’t believe the customer had the right to abuse people, but he was big on customer service. She was crazy and privileged, but her temper didn’t go into aggressive. She was more shocked that the garden center had the audacity to not have her flowers when she wanted them. Of course, Ashley was sure these were the ones she wanted, but she wasn’t going to argue.

“I am so sorry that we don’t have the right colors. I will tell my boss and we will fix this as soon as possible.”

This seemed to mollify the woman. The help was supposed to kiss ass. She had come here to be pampered and she expected nothing less. Of course, in her head, Ashley thought very little of her, but her apologetic smile didn’t betray her disdain. Mason ordered the same varieties every year for this reason. She had no doubt this was the color the lady wanted, and when she came back, she would be very vocal that she was settling for this new color. That, or she would simply think that we had got in the right color. Her color. Whatever she chose, neither Ashley nor any of the other employees, would disagree. They would all just nod and hurry her from the place.

Most customers were pleasant. They asked the same questions, asked for the same advice, but the vast majority were complacent with the answers provided. Plants were a mystery. She knew very little about them herself. Mason and Marcella knew the most, but Kevin was no slouch. If they bombarded her with questions she would run to one of them, but she was great with the people. She got them talking, laughing, and, most importantly, buying. And she could defuse situations like these.

There was always a rotten apple in every bunch. The day was too nice. She wasn’t about to let this lady ruin it. With the encounter done Ashley moved on to the next customer.