I’ve had several requests for this one. Amber, Linda, here you go. My son Brian was 10, 11, around that age. He needed new tennis shoes. Bear in mind, this was before Air Jordan’ s etc. He & I went to the Mall one Saturday, to a shoe store. You browse & try on shoes by yourself. If you Have to have help, someone will eventually come help you. Brian & I picked out the pair of shoes he wanted & when the guy, “Brad”, came by to check on us, I told him the shoe Brian wanted & asked him the price. I told him the size we needed. He took his little shoe thingie and measured Brian’s foot. He told me that my son needed one size smaller than the size I had requested. What followed was a verbal tennis match between myself & Brad concerning how to buy the proper shoes for an 11 year old boy. Thus, Brad – “I can not sell you the size that you want. They will not fit your son. I have been sellng shoes for 2 years & I Know what size you need to buy! If you buy this size anyway, and leave this store, you can Not return them!” At this point, he is getting red in the face. I looked at Brian and His face was red, as well. He pulled on my arm. “Come on, Mom, let’s just go! I don’t want the shoes, anymore.” I looked at my son’s embarrassed face, put the shoes back in their box, and Brian & I left the shoe store. All the way home, I was fuming! Talk to me like I was in kindergarten! Embarrass my son in public! Oh, I was soo mad! Plus, Brian Still didn’t have any shoes! I thought about it all night. Should I call this guy’s boss and report him? Get him fired? Finally, I decided what I would do. Monday morning, I got up and went to the bank. The day before, Brad had told me the cost of that pair of shoes, including tax. I got a bank bag and counted out the exact amount in quarters, nickels, dimes, and pennies. I drove to the mall, locked my purse in my car, and took only the bank bag into the shoe store. I picked up the pair of shoes that Brian wanted in the size that I wanted. I walked up to the check out counter & Brad waited on me. He didn’t remember me, of course. He rang up the shoes on the register, told me what I owed, and I opened the bank bag. His eyes got wide when he saw the change & he asked me did I have a check or credit card. I told him, “My son saved his piggy bank money for these shoes.” As Brad started to count out $62.87 in change, I leaned over the counter towards him, lowered my voice and said, “I was in here yesterday, with my son. You waited on us. I know you don’t remember me, but I did this on purpose. You embarrassed my son and I could have reported your behavior to your boss. Instead, I chose to take this time to speak to you. I don’t know if you plan to sell shoes for the rest of your life or not. But there are a couple of things that you need to know. Brian is not my First child – he is my third! I have been buying tennis shoes for kids since before you were born. You need to nderstand that the customer is Always Right!” At this point, Brad says, “Well, it’s my Job to tell you,….” “Yes, it is your job to tell me that, but once you do, and I still want what I want, you don’t have the right to argue with me. I am the customer – I am Always right”! I don’t know whatever happened to “Brad”, but I hope he learned something that day! Stay tuned.