nasty crafty people

I find it incredibly interesting that certain people in society feel the need to treat others like crap. I have had my share of horrid jobs, and have realized that when dealing with the general public, certain people don't feel the need to be nice to a sales clerk. They feel that they are above the normal niceties that you treat other human beings with at least a small amount of respect. The one that sticks out in my head most is what happened to me recently when working at a local crafts store. Now keep in my that it is my second day working there and although I have done my share of arts and crafts other than finger-painting in the second grade, I do not know all that there is to be known on the subject. But I'm the first to ask for help. So back to my story. Second day on the job and I have two female customers come up to me to ask for fabric swatches. I have no problem with giving out swatches, nor does the company, but within reason. Well, seeing that the customer is always right and that you're supposed to kiss their butt, I have a hard time telling this woman that a yard of fabric does not constitute as a fabric swatch and for that quantity, you will have to pay for it just like the rest of the general public. The woman could not understand this rule, insisting that thirty-six inches was the least amount that she could take of this fabric, for she had to have the entire pattern to be able to take home to make sure that it matches her carpet and her drapes. I have two co-workers on either side of me and I give one of them a face like, 'can you please help me out, I have no idea what to tell this woman and to have someone at least seem to be on my side right now would be a great help'. What do I get? You know it. Nothing. I'm stuck dealing with a hostile customer on my second day, insisting that she needs to take a yard of each roll of fabric that she brought up to the cutting counter, bringing a total of around $100.00 of free fabric. I want to be able to get that amount of free stuff from this place too but for some reason I don't see it happening. Then the bitch glances at my name tag. My boss so eloquently put my name and then "in training" underneath it. I get a snide glare and a snicker asking if I'm new. I politely respond yes and she snickers again. I so want to punch this bleached blonde with roots that need to be dyed and ask her if it really makes a difference whether or not I'm new because nobody in their right mind was going to give her what she wanted for free. Needless to say, she made me cry. I went into the back room, through down my apron, and told my boss that I quit. Maybe I have an aura that attracts these kind of people. Either way, I hate working in retail, and I can't say that I'm sorry for leaving when I did.