A guy came in to look in our jewelry case and the first thing I noticed about him is how he seemed like Target Trump; he TRIED to look like someone with a lot of money but something about him was just off. He picked up a ring that had a vintage style setting; it was not truly vintage but was vintage style. If you didn't know any better, at first glance you would think this was made in the early 1900's. The stone inside it was man-made. This guy tried to pretend he knew all about jewelry and said it was an old setting and that the stone was a real stone but had been treated, "like all these type of stones are". He even insisted that my jeweler was an idiot. I guess he totally missed the fact that it was stamped inside the ring by a manufacturer who has only been in business since the 1980's, and even someone with a vision disorder could look at this stone and see that it's essentially glass. My suspicions about him were confirmed in that instant, but moreso when he spoke to me condescendingly, as one would to a child who says there is a Santa Claus. He then started talking about how he makes $25,000 a month and owns property on an Island and in England----and I just laughed and walked away. What a bullshit artist, he must go into shady bars and talk like this to women on a regular basis! Got it, meet ten of you a month, moving on now.
He hung around for an hour, bullshitting with other employees that seemed to not notice or care that every subject this oily jerk expounded on, he had little or no knowledge of. I laughed aloud several times when he pronounced 'facts' about things that even the newest of employees would know are not true. Why anyone wasted their time talking to this creep, I couldn't figure out. He repeatedly mentioned his high income, his rich parents, how he bought a 10,000 square foot house for his mom, etc. It got so deep in there, I had to leave because he was making my skin crawl with his bullshittery.
Just to satisfy what I already suspected, I went outside to see what he was driving. He'd taken great pains to park very far from the front of our store, but all the other cars were accounted for so I knew it was his---a mid-80's Audi that looked like he'd gotten it on salvage title from a junkyard. No one who makes $25,000 a month would drive that rustbucket with mismatched rims and peeling paint, but a bullshit artist would.
After he left, I watched out the door and sure enough he got into that rattletrap Audi. He hasn't been back in awhile, thank goodness! I had enough oily cheese to last awhile.
