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For three years now, I’ve been working as a candy saleswoman at a stall on a busy Moscow street. At first the job seemed to me interesting, not hard and challenging. But gradually the crowds of customers, all of whom had their own cockroaches in their heads, began to annoy me. Yes, there are some good people, but it seems to me that there are many more bad, embittered boorish people who consider me their servant just because they pay me some money.

For three years now, I’ve been working as a candy saleswoman at a stall on a busy Moscow street. At first the job seemed to me interesting, not hard and challenging. But gradually the crowds of customers, all of whom had their own cockroaches in their heads, began to annoy me. Yes, there are some good people, but it seems to me that there are many more bad, embittered boorish people who consider me their servant just because they pay me some money.

At first I tried to see only the good in my work, to focus on the positive and not to remember the rudeness and boorishness of the other clients. But that didn’t help for long. Eventually I started doing little nasty things to those customers who treated me badly. It was not hard to remember them, because many of them came almost every day, and I had the impression that they did not come in the least to dump their negativity on me, to spoil my mood and therefore improve theirs.

I purposely dropped their cookies and unpackaged candies on the dirty floor of the stall, made coffee and tea out of dirty water, took dirty hands on the food I then sold them. And this little revenge helped me to cope with psychological overload, to feel like an ordinary person who could not offend anyone with impunity.

Sometimes I think it’s childish, that it’s stupid and low. I realize that I’m doing it wrong, but every time I see boorish faces in the window of my stall, I find more and more excuses to do nasty things to these people.

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  • 01/10/2021

    Very familiar. I worked as a salesman when I was a student. I used to sell dairy products. And I had a mean aunt who always came to see me. Not only did she ruin my mood, but she also paid with 10 kopeck change (although she wasn’t a beggar at all). And I’m her, too, then the cheese glazed crumbs, the leaky bag of milk slip. I am not ashamed, it was her own fault

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