F.I.T.

I should have worried when MIchelle came up and said "Can I ask your opinion on something since you've seen everything?" She drags me off into a corner and starts whispering to me that we have a flasher in the store. Maybe. She can't tell because he's wearing a shirt and trench coat, but his legs are bare. A customer said he exposed himself to her and then started following her around before settling into the art section. How appropriate. A piece of work in the art section. What should she do? I told her call the police. I also thanked god that one of the other managers, notorious for close-minded manic depressive temper tantrums wasn't in the building. She said she couldn't tell if he was wearing anything under the coat, and we hadn't seen him flash anyone so what did we have on him?

OK, I said, lets get one of the boys to offer him excellent customer service. That plan in place, the man in question came wandering over to where we were huddled, in the sex section.

He was wearing baggy jockey shorts under his trench coat, which was now hanging open loosely. What is that really? He wasn't a real flasher, not bold enough to really show himself off. No, he was merely a flasher in training. I mean what kind of half-assed attempt is that? I think the presence of that baggy underwear somehow made him moreoffensive. Not only was he behaving in a highly offensive manner but he wasn't even doing it correctly. We sent a male employee towards him and the man scuttled out the door.

I saw the tempestuous manager in the store before the man left. I didn't say anything to him about our F.I.T., but when another employee mentioned it, the manager, having a bad day like everyone else, bolted for the door. A new employee asked me, "What are you worried about? What would he do if he caught him?"

Then the manager returned and told us that he had told the neighboring stores that if the man came in to call him and he would take care of it personally by ensuring there was nothing for him to show ever again, and he'd do it with his bare hands.

The new employee, a parole office who deals with sex offenders for her real job simply said "Ok, I can't hear stuff like that." Later she turned to me and said "Now I understand why you didn't want to say anything to him."