"No, no, no, dear, I want that wrapped in red paper." A middle-aged woman came through my line and talked to me as if my IQ were that of a grade school kid. When I first started working, it was simply a way to decrease   the time I spent at home and make my parents happy. I never thought that a year and a half later, I would still be at Marshalls, waiting for this woman to get through my line. I smiled and said, "Oh, that's no problem." She bent over the counter to look at the computer and made sure I was doing my job correctly. Her sweater grazed my hand and she smiled like she meant well. I wanted to roll my eyes but instead I just smiled. Ever since I started working here, I've tried not to let people like her get to me. And forget judging a book by its cover, because I have been proved wrong time and time again. The wealthy middle-aged women were far ruder than the teenage boys. At first, I was constantly surprised. Now, I tried not to even guess how the person coming near my line was going to act, because it was never the way I imagine. I never expected people to be so rude and at the same time nice. But for every rude person I saw, at least five pleasant customers came through my line. "Here you go," I handed the woman her receipt and hoped her $5 wine glass was wrapped to her liking. "Have a nice day!" I said. And just as I thought I was fed up, the next customer came through. "She had about one more minute and I was going to tell her to get out of line," she whispered   to me with a smile. What surprised the writer in her work at first?
The rich customers behaved themselves well. The young boys could be both rude and nice. Some rich women customers were more impolite. Wealthy women are pleasant customers.