Retail Hell Underground

Customer Reject

From Angel: Lazy custys at Fry's in Manhattan Beach, CA...mmmm that must go together so well...parmesan ghetto nachos anyone?

Awesome Custy Hulk Takes Out Rich Bitch

Custy DFowler sent us a Christmas shopping tale that will have you cheering about his Random Act of Retail Kindness. He deserves an Awesome Custy Medal!!!

I haven't worked retail in a long time, but the nightmares of those years help me appreciate those who do work the front lines, especially during Christmas. 

After watching "The Wizard of Oz" a few nights ago, my wife decided we needed to go to the mall for a little late night Christmas shopping.  So, in no time I find myself a long line to pay for some stuff at a mall specialty store and I am enjoying watching the Christmas crowds and shoppers. 

In front of me is some woman loaded up with gifts and she's berating the girl behind the counter to be careful with every item as they are rung up. I swear if she said "Be careful with thaaaat!" one more time I was going to kick her in the ass so hard she'd taste my shoe! This fat bitch is wearing more jewels than Elton John in Concert and a full length fur coat (to go shopping in the mall!?) She's carrying one of those purses with the logo patterned all over it.  She's a walking billboard for "I got money and you don't!"

It came time to pay and she pulls out a credit card. No problem but the card is declined. She insists that the girl somehow did it wrong and tells her (doesn't ASK her, she TELLS her) "Do it again, only this time try a bit harder." 

The girl dutifully does it again and it is declined again.  

The woman reaches into her wallet and produces another card. Guess what? Declined! AND again, she tells the girl to run it again explaining (like to a 4 yr old) how to hold the card so that the magnetic stripe is facing right. (I have to give it to the girl behind the counter, she kept her cool and followed the bitch's stupid instructions if for no other reason than to prove to the Rich Bitch that the card wasn't working)  Each time the retail girl works the machine, the Rich Bitch turns to those of us waiting and gives us the 'eye roll' like we all know the girl is doing it wrong and aren't retail slaves just the worst, blah blah blah.

3 cards and 6 charge attempts later, she pulls out the 4th card and says to the girl behind the counter "And get it right this time, Missy, these people are getting tired of your fucking mistakes."

The venom with which she says this causes a woman behind me in the line to actually gasp and my blood begins to boil. Actually it had started boiling some time before, only just then it boiled over.   

I snapped.  I stepped forward and my wife grabbed my arm as if to say oh noooo please nooooo but it was too late.  (I've done this before, and my wife refers to it as becoming the Retail Hulk! (..."don't make me angry...you wouldn't like me when I"m angry...")

"No," I start, "what we're really tired of is people like you who can't seem to get their credit in line and take it out on other innocent people."  My wife has stepped back to give me room.

The Rich Bitch swiveled her piggy eyes toward me and looked like she was about to give me a clever wise-assed come back, so I took a deep breath and let her have it between the eyes. 

Retail Hulk had arrived...  "And another thing, these people aren't slaves and even though they may be paid what we laughingly call 'slave wages, they don't deserve to be treated that way - by your or anyone else! They work in one of the most thankless jobs there is: retail.  In no other employ will you have to be doing one job in the morning, and another job before lunch and yet a third job later in the day!" (I have a much unused degree in voice and I'm giving this speech in loud tones for no other reason than to get people to stop and listen.  Even the people in the mall are stopping and staring.)

 

"They unload the trucks, unpack it, price it, haul it out to the sales floor and arrange it neatly it on the shelves, where, 20 minutes later they have to rearrange it after some high and mighty yet totally messy shopper like you has destroyed their careful work. But then they also have to sweep the floors, clean the glass windows and even unplug the fucking toilets because basically working retail really is one step above being a slave!" 

I was on a roll, and even the manager had come over to see what was going on.

"Then they have to work the cash registers where they have to deal with entitled rich bitches like you who treat them like shit and can't seem to find one fucking credit card that will work and YOU end up hold up a long line of other customers, all the while  insisting that it's HER fault (pointing to retail slave with eyes as big as saucers) that YOUR overcharged cards won't allow you to charge more on them!  And when you can't get them to work, your blame HER! Then when you have to leave without paying,  who's job will it be to return those items all to their proper place again? Any idea? I'll tell you: HER, but only after she takes care of all these other patient people and locks the doors at night. Then once the items are back where they belong,  she will again vacuum and sweep the floor, clean the counters, re-arrange the shelves and count out their drawer for the night all while you are cozy at home bitching about how she didn't do HER JOB right? (Sarcasm drips from the end of that statement.)  So, if I were you, I'd get down off my high fucking horse and apologize to the entire line for delaying our shopping, apologize to this young lady for basically being such a raging ASSHOLE WITCH and insulting her and then get the fuck out before someone drops a house on you!"  (Wizard of Oz 'witch' reference does not go unnoticed by someone in line, who snickers accordingly ...probably my wife.)

Rich Bitch's eyes are wide open and unblinking. 

I think maybe she has died standing up. The only noise is the faint hiss of the mall fountain and that blasted Christmas music. 

Everyone seems to be holding their collective breath.

There is a pause of about 3 seconds before she utters a nearly inaudible 'sorry' and then turns to the girl behind the counter. "sorry..."  she says again. 

She pops open her wallet, fumbles around and produces two hundred-dollar bills (I wanna scream WHAT THE FUCK!?) and the girl quickly finishes the sale and bags her items. 

The woman takes her bags, one in each shaking hand, and again turns to the girl behind the counter.  "Sorry" she says. 

She stops when she sees the manager and even says "sorry" to her too.  I'm pretty sure she muttered a "sorry" to the people who parted ways in the mall for her to leave, too. 

When she's out the door, there is light applause, I make my  purchase with the greatest of customer service (even the manager helps) and they send me on my way with a cheery "Come see us again soon!" 

As we cross the mall, my wife says "You should really write that up for Retail Hell." 

So, here it is. 

DFowler

Hell Spawn Gets Told At The Magic Kingdom

Mouse Mastered gets a Retail Balls Award for confronting a spoiled little brat at the happiest place on earth:

Hey RHU. Longtime reader, first time writer, etc.

I live in central florida and happen to work at a theme park associated with a big rodent.

Have a magical day is the catchphrase and, honestly, more often than not, it's all right work.

I work at a fast food restaurant in the most popular park at the resort, and I get a few fun questions:

-Do you work here?

Note: our costume is something that looks like a mariachi band reject, minus the sombrero.

No, I don't work here, I escaped from the band for a little R and R before our next gig. I just forgot to change.

-What time is the three o' clock parade?

... Well, this one isn't THAT bad. I usually translate it in my head to "What time does the parade get here?" since my restaurant is along the parade route, but near the end of the road.

-(If it's raining) What time will the rain stop? Do you know?

Mmmmm. Nope, sorry, wasn't born with mutant weather powers.

Anyway, I technically work at two restaurants. One's only open seasonally. I was at the greeter position (hand out menus, say hi, direct guest flow to the registers so traffic doesn't clog the walkways) and I see this kid LITERALLY cursing his dad out and kicking him. I was appalled.

I didn't really want to say anything, but my ire was raised being that I'm a semi-new father myself. My daughter is 10 months old.

Finally, after his dad sits him down at a table, he goes to yell at him again and I lost it for half a second. I look the kid dead in the eye and tell him "Sit down, kid. Don't you EVER talk to your father like that."

....My first thought: "Holy shit, the dad's going to complain, I'm fired."

I kinda told my manager about it and asked if the guest said anything. I said no, not yet, and he told me "Well, don't worry about it then. But try to leave the parenting to the parents."

I apologized and got off free. Thankfully, the manager that day was the new, really cool, kinda laid-back manager. The best part, though, was that the kid (probably told to by his family) came up and apologized to me.

I talked to him a bit about how he should be grateful for the things he had in life, he kinda said okay, and the whole thing was over with.

I was pretty proud of myself considering I told off a kid, as a cast member, got away with it with no disciplinary actions, and got the kid to apologize to me.

Good luck out there to the rest of you retail slaves!

-Mouse Mastered

Feuding Custys at Wally World

Church of Retail.

Head Priestess of the Poodle Washer Clan here.

Kidding its Ana! Got you didn’t I?

I have one thing to say:

Cut the bullshit people.

Today I was witness to CUSTY ON CUSTY VIOLENCE.

Okay not violence, but stern words. 

I was in line (at, sorrow, Walmart) right behind these two (forty something) women and I got a front row seat.

Woman 1, who I call Bertha, was blond, chunky, and had the world's cutest handbag. Add a small dog sticking out of it and a couple hours of pet/owner therapy and you would have an image of Bertha.

Anyways, it was a slow day and I thought I was lucky to get in line behind two people. Bertha though had a million tiny little things of candy and make-up and most of them looked “damaged” or had their tags pulled off. This was mostly, I guess, so she could go, “Oh, I don’t know. It was like five dollars. But its damaged, I should get it for cheaper."

The associate of this woman was behind her with a bag of Carmelcorn, a “romantic movie”, condoms and breath mints. I suppose woman 2, or Helen, was gonna get lucky. She was on the phone with a “male friend” and was giggling like a preteen.

“Oh Bruce, you naughty little boy, I don’t think that is appropriate to say out loud.”

My question: Why are you screaming it across the store? I don't want to know. Really. I am not being coy. Trying to hold in my Wheaties, I flip through one of the magazines.

Bertha's total comes to over 300 bucks at this point. I know this because she announces it with a nasally scoff. “Three HUNDRED? I told you most of that was on sale.”

Well, shit, if you buy a ton crap of it then it will still cost a shitload of money.

Helen hangs up the phone. OR more specifically, Bertha rips the phone from her hand (the only good thing about Bertha) and Bertha turns on her oily charm. “Was that Bruce? It must be nice having a man to pay for everything. So you won't mind if I borrow some money.”

Helen didn't sound convinced. I am watching them without even bothering to hide the interest. I have no where to be on my day off.  "How much is some?"

“Anyways, I need your credit card. I need this stuff and well, my card was denied.” Bertha just holds out her hand.

Now Helen, despite being creepy on the phone, looks like her wardrobe has seen better days.

Helen says, “I have bills. Mary has to get some shoes. I really don't have the money to pay."

"Its only three hundred, I'll pay you back next week." Bertha sounds so flippant that the cashier and I share a are you serious? look. Three hundred is a shit load of hours when you work in hell. I understood, even the dog grooming business is not all that fluffy.

"I don’t have that type of money to be spending.” Helen sounds serious. Like I am going to kick your ass serious.

Bertha sneers. “I helped you pay rent! You owe me.”

“I paid you back.” Helen sounds indignant. "I am not made of money. I have other people to think about."

They argue for the next five minutes. Well Bertha screams and Helen just takes it. The poor associate is going red and looking for her manager. The whole line is backed up. Helen picks up her stuff and walks to the next line. Bertha follows. The girl voids the action and I pay. (Ten dollar purchase.) I start making a joke about customer's attitudes when Bertha comes back and looks livid.

"Are you talking about me?" Bertha looks at the cashier. “I wasn’t done.”

"Yea, you were." I tell her, grab my bag and walk past.

"Excuse me?" She looks shocked.

"You heard me, now stop bugging her."

I walk off.  I hate people sometimes.

Good day. Amen.

Ana

P.S. The puppies from criminal bitch lady came in and I now have a new family member. His name is Putt-putt. Sorry, Tug(boat) and Putt-Putt sounded kind of cute. Bee and Kay are in their new apartment now. So there is a silver lining. We are also getting calls from the family that took “Amber” in. Not her real name, but she needed one.

 

Shopping Carts Carpool

Looks like there was even time to stop at Jack In the Box.

 

The Do As I Say, Not As I Do Manager

From Roast Beef Slinger:

Hello fellow slaves,

I've been reading RHU for a couple months now, & it's one of my favorite websites. It sort of makes me feel not so bad about my job.

What is my job, you ask?

Well, I work at a certain fast food chain known for their roast beef. Luckily, I'm usually the one making the food so rarely do I have to deal with the actual custys, although some days I do get punished with working the drive thru.

Anyway, my story is about my manager. Our store has shift managers, assistant managers, manager, and store manager. The one I'm talking about is the manager, and there is only one of them per store.

I started working at my store about a year & a half ago to try and help pay my way through college (unlike so many kids I go to school with, not everything was handed to me by mommy and daddy, but that's another rant in itself). Most of the people there seemed pretty decent! There were only a couple slackers, and pretty much everyone was good at their job. Back then, manager T was only an ASM.

My first incident with T occurred about a year ago. One of my coworkers, J, had a crush on me. And it was OBVIOUS. So I mentioned this to T, via text message, because by that point we were becoming *friends*. So I texted her, as a *friend*.

Well T turns this around into a big work related incident, employees aren't allowed to have visitors, employees aren't allowed to come up if they aren't working and hang out, they have to get food or whatever, blah blah blah. Well wasn't that just a stab in the back...

A few weeks later, this new kid, D, starts working there. His younger brother, P, has been working at this store already for almost two years, so it was a "this guy is reliable" referral. Cool, ya?

So D just hits it off right away with EVERYONE and within a few months, they're all buddy buddy! People start hanging out outside of work, going to dinner and movies as a group thing, just chill stuff that friends do.

Well it was a little weird, since it hadn't happened before, but what do I care? I'm nice, I haven't caused anyone TOO much trouble (not by this point anyway..) so I just ignore it.

Soon after, T gets promoted to manager. Yay! T works hard and deserves it. Everything is still cool.

Fast forward a few months. (It's summertime now.)

Talking with people, I learn that when P first started working, he had a HUGE crush on T. Majorly huge crush. Oh well, T is hot, it happens (she has stalkers). But now I'm slowly starting to see, that hasn't gone away... And, to put the cherry on the sundae, T breaks up with jackass boyfriend and is now single. HMMM. After the break-up, T is pretty crushed for a bit, but soon, T, P, & D are all hanging out like they're bff's. Hanging out a LOT. Staying at each other's places until 3, 4 in the morning, or maybe all night... and since T makes the schedule, guess who works together all the time? Guess who is starting to get blatant favoritism?

Fast forward a few more months. (Fall, yayyyy.)

P & D both start shift manager training. So since they are managers, they should get treated like managers and have all the responsibilities and face all the downsides of sometimes trusting your employees to do their jobs, only to find out later they really don't. Guess who doesn't get yelled at as much as other managers?

Oh, and did I mention in all this time, there have been various love triangles going on amongst other coworkers that T didn't think should happen, so certain people got a stern talking to? Never mind the fact that all this time, T STILL spends and extraordinary amount of time with P & D outside of work.
Did I mention they go out to clubs?
Did I mention that T spent Christmas with P & D ?
Did I mention that rather than scheduling someone else who didn't ask for New Years Eve off, T & P worked it by themselves? Alone?
Did I mention that when I come in after a long day, and stand around planning out what I'm going to do first, I get told to do something? But that T, P, & D can all sit around and do nothing at their leisure?
Did I mention that when Z had a moment of irrationality and snapped on T, the next week he was only scheduled for 9 hours? He only called her out on things that were true....
Oh, and did I mention that for the past few weeks, it has been blatantly obvious that both P & D have huge crushes on T, she knows it, teases them, and yet T still says things like, "Ya, apparently I'm unprofessional. Whatever." ?

I only forsee this situation getting worse, sadly enough... Luckily I'm only there for a few more months until I move (literally) on to bigger and better things.

Sincerely

Roast Beef Slinger

PS- I know it's not that epic, but I'll send you the Ham story soon, don't worry, that's a pretty good one.

 

Dumbass Prisoner Encounter

From Jail Monkey:

While I no longer work in retail, I do work in an industry that requires "customer service". For the last three years, I have worked in the intake portion of the local jail. 

I deal with an extremely wide variety of people on a nightly basis, from people who have forgotten to pay their traffic tickets to your Grade A crack whores, to people accused of murder. While it is a jail, I still have to provide customer service to these people, and if people are cool with me, I'll be cool with them.

I love my job and the variety, but there are definitely things that I have seen that cannot be unseen. There is not enough eye bleach to remove the things that I have had to look at.  Luckily there is quite a lot of humor in my job and that helps a lot, but I had to say something the other night that no person should EVER have to say. 

Here is the transcription of my conversation with a high on crack female inmate I was doing a strip search intake on:

Me: Ok Ms. *****, face me and begin taking your clothing off, starting with your shirt.

 

Her: Why I gotta do that?

 

Me: Everyone that is brought into the jail is stripped searched to make sure you have no drugs, money, or weapons hidden on or in your body.

 

Her:  What if I don't wanna do it?

 

Me: Well, if you choose not to cooperate, several officers are going to come in here and restrain you while we hog tie you.  From there we are going to take you to the local ER, where you will have x-rays and other tests done to confirm that you have no contraband hidden anywhere on or inside your body, and you will be billed for the costs of that. If they don't find anything you will be brought back to the jail, where an additional charge of Failing to Obey a Lawful Order will be added to the charges you already have.  If they DO find something, a new felony charge of Introduction of Contraband into a Secure Facility will be added.  It's your choice if you want to cooperate or not, but those are the consequences of failing to comply.

 

Her: Fine, I'll do it.

 

Me:  Do you have something on you that I need to know about?  If you are honest with me before the strip you will only be charged with the possession, but if you lie and I find it after the search, you will be charged with bringing it in.

 

Her: No, I ain't got nothin'.

 

Me: Ok, then begin by facing me and taking your shirt off and handing it to me.

 

So the strip continues with no problems. She hands me all of her clothing piece by piece, and I find nothing. Once all the clothing has been removed, I tell her to turn and face the wall, bend over at the waist, and spread her ass cheeks. (Note: This is NOT the highlight of my job, looking up cooch and ass all day. But since I want myself and my fellow officers to go home safe every night, I realize this is a necessary evil.)

As she does this, I notice something up the cooch that does not belong. I immediately go into defensive mode in case it is a weapon. I let my backup know that I have something but don't know what it is. So the rest of the conversation goes like this:

Me: What do you have inside of you?

 

Her: I don't know what you are talking about, I ain't got nothing.

 

Me:  I am looking right at it, I can see something in there.  Tell me what it is now or this is going to get a lot worse.

 

Her:  Fine, I'll tell you.  It's an avocado.

 

Me: ........... a what?!

 

Her:  An avocado. You know, you eat it?

 

Me:  You have an avocado in your cooch?!

 

Her:  Yes

 

Me:  Why in the fuck would you have an avocado in your cooch?!?!

 

Her:  Cuz I know what jail food is like, I been here before. I thought I'd bring something in to hold me over.

 

Me:  Are you fucking kidding me?! You stuck an avocado up your cooch in case you got hungry?! What the hell is wrong with you?

 

Her:  I didn't want to go hungry!

 

Me:  *sigh*  Ok, reach in and remove the avocado from your cooch and hand it to me.

 

So this female reaches in, pulls this avocado out of her cooch, and hands it to me (thank heaven for gloves!). The strip search ends and I dress her out and take her over to holding.  By this time I am laughing so hard I am crying, and everyone is wanting to know what is going on, and of course this is a story that HAS to be shared!

 

I mean really, I should NEVER have to tell someone to remove the avocado from their cooch.  Seriously, WTF?!  If you are really that hungry, just ask me and I'll get you extra food!  I have seen some weird stuff in my time there, but this one absolutely takes the cake!  There is never a dull day at the jail!

 

Signed,

The Jail Monkey

 

One Store's Gift Suggestion

Nothing says Happy Valentines Day like uncooked meat.

Security Guard Hell

Some insane Retail Hell from another perception:

While I have done plenty of Retail work myself (everything from convenience store to fast food to major department store) for the past several years I have been working as a Security Guard.

At this particular time I was guarding a gas-station/convenience store that was widely considered to be the single worst location in this city. (Two years ago in a period of six weeks there were 35 murders in the city. 25 of them occurred within a six block radius of this store.) 

This was just one of many of my nights.

1) Five minutes after going on duty one of the local crack whores comes screaming into the store claiming she had just been raped. We offered to call the police. She said no. Ten minutes later I had to run her out of the parking lot because she was trying to trick up one of the guys who had stopped in for gas. Go figure.

2) About an hour later "Dino" walked into the store. Now "Dino" is probably the worst customer I have dealt with. When he's sober he's fine. This time he wasn't sober. Everything was fine until he got in line, and then all of the sudden he starts screaming at the latina in line in front of him, for no reason, using just about every slang term you've ever heard for Mexican's in about 5 seconds. By the time I get over there to eject him from the store he's got this poor little woman nearly cornered and she is freaking out. It takes me a few seconds to get his attention because by state law I can not touch him in any way until he actually gets violent. He rounds on me and starts screaming at me, calling me Cracka and Honkey, screaming "Yeah, that's right, I'm a nigga racist, whachyou gonna do about it?" Well, long story short, police were called, and he ended up with a nice set of bracelets and a free ride downtown.

3) A couple of hours later N.A.T. attempts to steal one of the sandwiches the store sells. N.A.T. is so stupid that he doesn't seem to realize that it doesn't fit in his pocket. When I stop him he starts yelling about how he had just paid for the sandwich ( he had never even gotten close to the registers) and that I was just profiling him 'cause he was black. I get the sandwich back after about 5 minutes, and out he goes, banned.

4) Guy comes into the store. He's obviously drunk, but the other guy he is with seems sober, and they cause no problems. They walk out. Less than a minute later I hear a screech of tires, followed a second later by a rather large BOOM. Turns out drunk guy was driving because sober guy did not have a license, and he had just backed out as fast as he could, right into the passenger side of a SUV that was getting gas. The woman in the passenger seat goes fuck-nuts on the guy because she had been hit by a drunk driver a couple of years earlier. I spend the next 15 minutes trying to keep the woman from going medieval on the guy while we wait for the police to show up.

5) Saved the best for last. A kid, about 19, comes into the store. Your basic hard on punk type. As a matter of course I watch the kid, as he blithely starts stuffing his jacket with several items. I stop him as he's leaving, get the usual "Man, I aint never stole nothin' in my life" garbage. Police get called. He gets the bracelet treatment, and then it starts getting fun. The kid asks me, while he's waiting to be put in the cruiser, if his truck will be safe. I ask him which one, and he says, "That one" and points with his chin. The cop ( my favorite cop in that area ) and I both look over, and then we look at each other. The car he has pointed out is a brand new SUV, an expensive one. I raise my eyebrow at the cop, he nods, and walks over to the SUV. As his partner is putting the kid in the cruiser he calls in the license plate. Oh, guess what? Mr. " I aint never stole nothin' " is driving a stolen car. And it keeps getting better. The cop does a search of the SUV. What does he find in the back? About four thousand, that's thousand not hundred, dollars worth of stolen merchandise, most of it clothing with the big plastic "Don't steal me" devices still attached.

And that was just one of my nights. And not even the busiest one. And people wonder why Security Guards and Cops drink. It's a natural antidote to the moron virus that seems to fly around us.


---You will Re-spect my ATHORITAYH, even in Hell.

Night of Crazy Walmart Custys

Hey RHU, its Bubble Girl again! 

I want to tell you about the crazy-ass customers I had last night!

Since I've worked at Wal-Fart longer than most of the people on my shift (hell, I've trained most of the people on my shift) I usually get stuck doing random customer service at night.  Making keys, mixing paint and (god forbid) cutting fabric for crazy old ladies. 

There is one lady we call "Pain Lady" because something is always hurting on her and she SIMPLY MUST SHARE IT WITH ME. Back braces or broken hands, I don't really care. I get paid to be nice to you, don't forget that you crippled bitch. 

She always wants 10 FUCKING bolts of fabric cut into retarded measurements like 10 and 3/8's of an inch or some bullshit. 

She was in last night and I was basically forced into helping her. 

Whats worse, is that shes a major bible-banger. 

While I'm agnostic, I have nothing against religious people, but stop RUBBING JESUS in my FACE! 

She described each fabrics use in regards to her church's window display while complaining about how her kneecaps were full of cancer or something (I tuned her out). 

Then she asked what church I attend. 

Did I lie and make one up? 

No, because apparently I'm stupid. 

I simply stated that I was agnostic. 

OMFG SUCH A WRONG THING TO DO! *FACEPALM* 

I had to finish cutting her fucking fabric while she TRIED TO SAVE MY SOUL. 

Fuck my life.

I normally work electronics at my local Wal-Fart but last night I was oh-so-overjoyed to go help cashier for a few hours. 

After Pain Lady left, my mortal soul well saved, I thought my night would be better. 

OH HELL NO. 

A genuine fucking CRACKWHORE decided to wander the front end for an hour and a half. 

I try to avoid people on drugs and I was following suit well with this skanky ho, until she started molesting the M&Ms display. 

YES. 

MOLESTING THE M&Ms DISPLAY. 

Its the red M&M guy with a hole in his belly to put packs of chocolaty goodness in. 

She was HOLDING his hand at first, really innocent. But then started to STROKE the poor guy's arm. Then rub all over his CROTCH AREA. 

SHE WAS TRYING TO PLEASURE A PLASTIC M&M MAN!! 

Jesusfuckingchrist WHY ME!?! 

So I had to ask her to stop because all my other customers are watching this with absolute horror on their faces. 

She just kinda looked at me and said "Whaaaaa????" 

Then left the store when I forcefully wheeled the M&M man behind the service desk. 

-Never- in my life have I said anything remotely close to "Ma'am, can you please stop trying to rape the M&M?" 

But I had to last night. 

At least no one invaded my personal space, but still: Fuck you, retail. 

<3 Bubble Girl

 

Chef Mannequin

Julia Child just rolled over in her grave.

From a Pastry store in WLA that has no windows, just lots of brick and a very creepy looking Chef Manni.

 

 

Douchy Restaurant Custy Gets Told

Former Waitress Slave, Heidi is getting a Retail Balls Award for her tale of a douchebag custy, how she went above and beyond for him, and ultimately handled him:

I've often had people ask me about my days in retail hell.  Before becoming an RN (which has it's own special kind of hell) I've worked in retail, restaurants, and call centers.  I tell people I will never ever become a waitress again.  While I sometimes long for the days of having a pocketful of cash on a Friday night you can't pay me enough to work as a waitress again.  I've had people ask me how come?  well....it's a long story but here it goes:

While going to school to become an RN, I worked at a restaurant.  A chain restaurant that I will not name.

I had just finished the last day of  3 grueling days of nursing finals.  I was tired.  I didn’t get off work till 11pm. I’d been up since 5 am. I had to be in to see my college adviser the next morning at 7:30 am to sign up for next semesters classes.  I also had to fill out paper work to renew four of my scholarships.  Not only was I working late, but I had to be up early the next day.

This man came in to celebrate his girlfriends birthday. She was lovely, smiled a lot didn’t say much, but had noticeably astounding fake breasts. He was nasty, grumpy, angry.  He was determined to be a real bastard, and a bit smelly too.

I took down elaborate instructions to enable the bartender to prepare his favorite drink, which ended up being some horrific concoction of cranberry juice, melon liquor and something blue.

He made me take a couple of these back because the bartender failed to make them horrid enough.  The bartender, the wait staff and I tasted the blue stuff and it was as nasty as it smelled. The bartender-poor her.  She gagged and coughed on the stuff for ten minutes.  Finally he accepted the drinks with much criticism of our bartenders ability to prepare said horrid blue crap.

Criticism continued throughout the meal. The menu was crap, he didn't like anything on it. The room was too cold so I turned up the heat. The room was too hot so I turned down the heat. He didn't like this table. I moved him three times. He didn't like this table either. It was 8pm on a Saturday night with a college basketball game that ended at 7:30 so there weren’t that many choices in the way of tables.

He wanted me to recommend a wine. I did. Several options, several price points, he chose one, he hated it. He said our wine was gross.  I took the wine back. I sent our night wine director over. He suggested a wine. This wine was also "Gross. Are you trying to rip us off?" He decided to stick with his horrid blue cocktails. 

He ordered a tenderloin for his main course.  His girlfriend ordered a shrimp salad.  The beef arrived. He asked for horseradish. I asked the chef. Doc said no, we didn’t have any horseradish.  We were out until our Sunday afternoon delivery (this was a Thursday night.) So I relayed the information. The customer stared at me in what I hoped was disappointment.  I should have known it was the look of complete insanity.

He freaked out. His meal was ruined, his day was ruined, his girlfriend's birthday was ruined, his horrid blue drink was ruined. His entire life was possibly ruined. The restaurant was gross, it was screwed, I was a moron.  I took the biggest deep breath I ever took.  I wanted to smack him at that point, but I didn’t.

Could we bring him another condiment? Mustard? Hot pepper oil? Deep fried dishwasher? Could we prepare something else for him? Anything? Anything at all?

As he went on with his rant, I got a stroke of inspiration. I fled next door to the tiny little drugstore and its even smaller, sad little grocery aisle.  Which was nothing more than two small, wobbly shelves, almost dangerously over packed with over priced travel sized toothpaste, trial size deodorant, peanut butter, grape jelly and bread.

There, in all it’s glory, wedged somewhere in between the plastic sporks and a box of 18 count six ounce Dixie cups, was a small four ounce bottle of horseradish.  That small little bottle cost me $4.19.  I sighed.  I could have gotten a bottle of the stuff three times as big at Safeway for $2.89. 

I purchased the blasted horseradish with my own hard earned tip money while my other perfectly lovely tables languished under the watchful eye of my non-English speaking Hispanic busboy. I tried to send him for the horseradish but after much explanation was afraid he'd come back with a jumbo box of cornflakes or a 24 hour wear lipstick in deep rose.

I returned some fifteen minutes later, sweating, out of breath, triumphant. I held the small, sad little bottle in all its splendid glory up to the man. "I found some Horseradish sir."
But he refused the horseradish. It was too late. His meal was ruined. I was an idiot. This place was a dump. He went on and on. At that point I lost it. I really lost it.  I was at my breaking point, and I went nuts.

I apologized for ten full minutes. I apologized for myself, for the restaurant, for the chef, and for the owners. I apologized for the tables and the table makers and the tile makers who make wobbly tables possible. I apologized for the heating systems and the fans and the lights and the napkins and the glass makers and the linen makers and the silverware designers and my hairdresser who colored my hair. I apologized for the length of time it took me to run to the store, and for my parents who didn't spawn a faster runner. I apologized for the farmers who grew the vegetables and the geneticists who created the cow that gave birth to the calf that became his overcooked steak. I apologized for western civilization and for bread and for chairs and for the class structure and for the demand for service jobs, the current economy and apologized until I couldn't any more. Until I couldn't think of anything else.

Then I left. I left my other tables, I left my Hispanic busboy, I took off my apron, took off my trendy red tie and left. Then I went home, turned off my phone and drank on some vodka from my freezer (nothing blue).

And this is why I will never, ever work as a waitress again.

Hiedi

Watch Store Hell

Hello Fellow Slaves!

I'm new to RHU but I wanted to share a rant that I wrote back in 2006 after starting my term working as a slave for a watch kiosk that fixes (replaces batteries) and sells watches. I also have many custy stories that could go on for days! (note this has been slightly updated.)

A message to all you customers!

People do not seem to want to understand that I work for a thing called a business. Say it with my folks, A  b-u-s-I-n-e-s-s. That means that I provide YOU yes that's right, YOU with a service. You in turn give me money to PAY me for said service. because you see I need money just as much as you do, and while I love a good bargain or discount as much as you do Things DO come with a price.

And speaking of prices, when I DO tell you how much something will cost. That's it. It is not your place to scream at me, It is not your place to automatically try and heckle me into discounting you. Please keep in mind that I do not MAKE the prices. They are the same for everyone. If you want a discount use the coupons that we GIVE you with your receipt. and while we are on the subject of coupons, please refrain from complaining about the NUMBER of coupons you receive. When I was trained, I was told "one coupon per transaction" Just because you give me three watches to repair does NOT mean you get three $1 off coupons in return. And  DO NOT ask me to return everything and ring it all separate so you can get three coupons, It doesn't work that way. Maybe if you're a good person, I might reward you with a little extra, but if you complain too much, NO REWARD FOR YOU! I swear dealing with some of you is like dealing with a grown up child!

Next, Please KEEP YOUR DAMN RECEIPTS!!!! I cannot stress this enough. When you purchase anything from us you are told to "keep your receipt this item has ____ warranty/you have 30 days to return it if you are not satisfied" That means if you keep the receipt and something goes wrong WITHIN THE TIME ALLOTTED you can ether A.) get it fixed for FREE B.) return it or C.) exchange it for something you like better. There is nothing like it when someone tells me they have a problem with something ether we sold them, or fixed for them, and then tell us they didn't keep the proof of purchase. Well, you may have bought it from us, but do you know how many people we get a DAY telling us "this is my only watch" when they bring in a receipt that has THREE batteries on it? and also there is a sign stating our return policy right out in plain sight. It is not up to us to make sure you read it. Though, it might be a good idea. 

Another thing, when we offer you above solutions, TAKE THEM. If it wasn't the best we could do, we wouldn't offer them. You were told when buying item X to keep the receipt. It is not our responsibility to keep records of your purchases, we do not have the CAPACITY to keep track of everyone that comes to our store. Each item/service we provide comes with some kind of guarantee. You are told of this guarantee when you are rung up. LISTEN TO US! we know what we are talking about. We are the ones that go through the training. We are the ones behind the counter. NOT YOU! You have no clue so shut up!

Next subject; Patience. For the love of GOD HAVE SOME FUCKING PATIENCE PEOPLE!!!!!! Things like changing a battery? they take TIME! If I tell you "it takes 20 minutes" it takes 20 FUCKING MINUTES!!! no less! There are circumstances it may be done in 5, or 10....but that is mostly if we have no other customers. If you see five other people around the kiosk, and one person IN the kiosk. It's probably a safe bet that it will take a while. Why you come to the mall and shop then wait to drop off your watch as the last thing is beyond me...and really none of my concern. If i was you, and I needed a battery, unless it died as I was leaving, I'd drop it off first, I don't know maybe because i am a logical person and I would think something like a battery or links would take time I'd just do a little shopping.

When you do drop off for repair and 20 minutes is too long. DON'T try to get me to move your repair moved up first! There were people ahead of you who have to wait just as long to get their repair, so why are you so fucking special? Because you have *insert event here* to go to and decided that you just HAD to come to the mall first?

Also related, DON'T tell me you have nothing to do and then hang all over our kiosk! If you want to look at the watches that's one ting, but for the love of God it's a MALL! There are OTHER STORES! it doesn't mean you have to buy anything, just go walk around it won't kill you to go get some excessive!

Please, If there is a crowd around the kiosk, and you get there before someone else, and i see them and not you, by all means speak up, but please DO NOT yell. There is enough commotion as it is, It was a simple mistake, it doesn't mean we would have never gotten to you. just wait your turn! If I am speaking with a customer, please DO NOT interrupt me. you are not more important. I don't care if you just want to know how much a battery costs, or "have a quick question" WAIT WITH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH SHUT UNTIL I AM READY TO SPEAK TO YOU!!!!!!!I can't even tell you how many times someone wants to see an item while I am in the middle of working with someone else! Stop it!

People nowadays don't understand that things are happening behind the counter, or in back of  business. I am all for good customer service, but I cannot provide good customer service when people don't understand these circumstances. I cannot provide the best service I can when there are people and children screaming and when people are angry over things out of my hands. I do my best to greet people with a smile. I try to satisfy them, and don't get me wrong I have met some very nice people. but there's always the few, the not so proud, that just wear on my nerves. Hope you all enjoyed the ranting. More to come later I believe. :)

~The Timekeeper's Twit

Ghostly Retail Hell Prank

From Bort:

I myself live in Retail Hell twice a week at an office superstore in Connecticut. 

The story I'd like to share with you today involves my brother -in-law who used to work in the photo department of a local drugstore. 

It goes like this.

Everyday people come in with their stupid pictures of their ugly children and stupid pets and always find it necessary to "oooh and ahhh" over them right in front of me at the register while angry inpatient customers wait behind them. 

Well one miserable day I decided that I was going to play a little prank on one unsuspecting customer. 

So this guy comes in with his girlfriend and says he needs these pictures developed as quickly as I can because he says he's caught ghosts in these pics. 

He tells me a stupid story about how him and his friends went to a cemetery at midnight and took all these pictures. 

I almost laughed in this guy's face but managed to keep a straight face. 

I even egged him on by pretending to be interested. 

So I take the negatives and I very carefully cut out little ghost looking shapes and glue them to the negatives. 

Amazingly when I developed the pictures it worked! 

It looked as if he had taken pictures of ghosts!

After the pics were done I carefully took the cutouts off the negatives and put everything back as if they were normal. 

Unfortunately when I came to work the following day I had missed the guy. 

But the girl I worked with told me that the guy was going crazy and jumping around like an idiot all excited! 

He said that he was going to mail them to the Ghost Hunters as evidence! 

I still laugh to this day when I think of this. 

I hope I run into him in the future so I can shatter his dreams in person.

Bort

Carts On The Run

Searching for a better life, far away from Hell Spawn, Piggy Shoppers, parking lots, and thrill seeking teenagers.

Jit's Hell Spawn Encounter

Hey, Jit here, back with another Retail Hell story.

I haven't sent in a post since right before Christmas, it being the Christmas holidays, but this one is definitely noteworthy enough to leave a lasting impression.

It was a hard day on register. I was walking back to the break room to take my fifteen-minute break when I saw two children playing on electric wheelchairs that our store provides our disabled customers.

I said, "Get the fuck off of those, you idiots, you don't fuckin' need 'em!"

In a perfect world, of course.
 
What I actually said sounded something like, "Please stop the scooters and put them back. It's a safety hazard and other people need them."

"No they don't, they would be using it," one of the smartass KWP (kid without a parent) responded.

I turned around and gave the kid a stare as if to say, 'are you crazy?!' "Put them back immediately!"

They headed to the front of the store. I resumed the walk to my break.

Coming back from my break (by the way, I had a nice break), the two KWP were no longer occupying the electric wheelchairs but were tipping over all of the exercise equipment we have set up. 
 
"Stop hanging off of those! Safety hazard!" "NOO!" Wait, what? Yeah. You heard correctly. Spoiled son of a whore. I gave him 'the look' and he then proceeded with this threat - "I'll pee on you!"

Whatthefuckcomeagain?!?! Really?!?!?!

Okay, I realize this was probably an empty threat, but still, no one in their right mind wants to be peed on my some ten year old snot-nosed brat.

Finally I paged his mother when his little brother said, "Andre Lucas Endenstine, you are in so much trouble!"

For the record, I have made that name up to protect the identity of the stupid fucking child so no one looks him up online and eggs his house.

I paged overhead, "Mrs. Endenstine, please come to the ****** department immediately."

She arrived within thirty seconds to collect her children. I made sure she understood that we regularly throw people out for not keeping track of their children and that this was not a playground (although we don't... but we REALLY should) and she apologized.

Very nice lady.

I don't understand how those kids could have popped outta her body. Augh. >_>

Anyway, I went back up to the register without being peed on, thank goodness, but wow. What a break.

Jit

Darth Vader as a Custy at The Death Star Cantina

English comedian Eddie Lzzard doing a funny skit as Darth Vader being a demanding custy at the Death Star's Cantina. Sent in from Laura.

Macy's Generous Retail Slave Reward Program

I don't know if it's for all Macy's but my store changed the way you get rewarded for catching a shoplifter.

It used to be a cash reward but now they're giving you Macy's Money.

So you catch a shoplifter, get Macy's Money and have the privilege of paying Macy's because Macy's Money only lets you use up to half off the item.

Good times.

Anonymous
Texas

Dumpster Diving For Dollars

From Riferous:

I have dealt with dumpster divers for as long as I have been working in retail. 

Some of them want boxes (there's a reason why we would throw cardboard away - it ain't suitable for packing up your kitchenware), some want lettuce for their rabbits, you know, the "it's not for me, and it's trash to you anyway" variety of people. 

Then there are the poor and homeless who are perfectly happy to pull a lukewarm, wilty piece of chicken out of the trash and chow down. 

We even have one pair of crackheads that pull out meat and sell it or trade it for drugs and alcohol.  (I can understand the crackhead part, but who the FUCK buys this shit???)

But I experienced something new yesterday. 

I didn't see what happened, so I am making a conjecture here, but I think somebody stole our trash.

About 7:30 last night a bagger and I took out some trash. 

We have two dumpsters, and when we were done, one dumpster was full enough that the lid wouldn't lay flat. 

About 9:00, another guy tells me he can't find the lock for the door. 

I went back and looked around, and went outside thinking he might have dropped it somewhere. 

I did not find the lock, but imagine my surprise when I see both lids of the dumpster flung open, and room for about 15 bags of trash. 

This is the same dumpster that was overflowing 90 minutes earlier.

Hey, if somebody wants to dispose of my trash for me, more power to them. 

But really, what the hell happened here?

Confused in Refuse,

Riferous

New Custy Conduct Rules

From Anonymous Retail Slave:

I work at Wal-Fart in Customer Service, and this is something me and a few co-workers wrote up while bored on break.

Our lovely assistant manager handed us a sheet of "Conduct Rules" basically of how to treat the customers.

So we wrote up rules for the customer!

Ohhhh how I wish I could hand this out. :)

Customer Service Rules

1. If I tell you a policy, and state that I cannot return something, DO NOT ASK FOR MY MANAGER. I've worked here longer than most of the managers, (And thats only been 2 years,) and they will NOT tell you anything different than I have. Most of the time they ask ME what the policies are, thank you.

2. If I tell you that you bought something at another store because we do not carry the brand you are attempting to return, DO NOT look at me like I'm a moron. ESPECIALLY when the store's name is printed right on the product! (Yes, that HAS happened. Countless times.)

3. Regardless of what some other employee told you that has never been trained at customer service and has only worked for the store for 3 days, I will not refund your $300 gaming system without a receipt and without a box. Sorry. Not losing my job because you compulsively throw everything away within 2 days.

4. Don't say "I spend $100 here every week! This is ridiculous!" or "I know you're manager! You'll get fired." Because guess what? I SPEND $100 HERE EVERY WEEK TOO. Oh, and guess what? I ALSO KNOW MY MANAGER! But guess what else? I HAVE TO FOLLOW THE POLICIES!

5. Don't tell me a policy doesn't exist because it isn't printed anywhere. It IS printed somewhere, and if you'd really like me to pull out the two 5-inch binders and let you look through them, you sure as hell are welcome to. We can't print all of that on the damn wall.

6. Do NOT let your child sit on my counter. Unless you'd like me to push them off.

7. Yes, I do realize this is a chain store. Yes, I do realize the other store 20 minutes away did something for you, such as putting an expensive item on a gift card without a receipt. Yes, I will tell you to take your crybaby ass back to said store if you don't like how my store does things. And no, I really don't care if you don't come back. Matter of fact, please don't, so I won't have to deal with you again.

8. If you aren't happy with something that a co-worker of mine did, don't come talking behind their back to me about how they are such a bitch. Yes, I will defend them, and you won't like what I'll have to say about you.

9. PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET OFF YOUR DAMN CELLPHONE WHILE I AM TALKING TO YOU FOR 2 MINUTES, BEFORE I SLAP IT OUT OF YOUR HAND!

10. And finally, but most importantly, please do NOT walk straight up to the counter as soon as someone else has left. Wait until you are called. That sign is there for a reason. Also, don't walk up BEFORE that customer has left. Would you like someone standing next to you, waiting for you to leave, as you are writing down your address or social security number for a money transfer? Didn't think so, jackass.

Paulie The Nasty Ass Thief

In a perfect world, retail transactions would be simplicity itself:

1) Enter store

2) Look at merchandise

3) Take desired item(s) to register

4) Pay

5) Exit store

But, as we all know, it doesn't always work that way.

One problem Retail Slaves all over the world have to deal with is the Nasty-Ass Thief.

Do y'all remember my run-in with "Paulie"?

It seems he objected strongly to my not allowing him to steal.

But first, a little back-story… When he first came into the cigar shop, he had two things: a friend who looked like he was about fall asleep, and a laptop computer. The friend promptly fell into a chair in the smoking lounge and stared at the TV.

Paulie introduced himself and implied he'd be spending a lot of money in my shop IF he were treated right. (DING-DING-DING went my bullshit alarm.) His business card looked like it had been designed by a fourth-grader. Each line was in a different font. His website and phone number had been scratched out.

After buying a 99-cent cigarillo, Paulie then turned his attention to his laptop. He opened it and pushed the same button repeatedly.

"What's with this freakin' thing?", he asked.

Another patron offered his help. "Why are you hitting the Backspace key?"

"Uhh… don't that turn it on?"

"Not really."

"Oh."

It was then that I suspected Paulie's laptop might not be Paulie's.

If you've read my previous post about Paulie, you know he threw a lit cigar at me when I had the chutzpah to ask for payment. After that, the police were notified and Paulie the Nasty-Ass Thief was banned from the shop.

Fast-forward to today.

Although I'm now working at "Gord and Raylor", former co-workers and patrons keep me in the loop concerning shenanigans in and around the cigar shop.

It seems that, after his expulsion, Paulie established a beachhead at the Starbucks four doors down the row of shops.

His modus operandi remains the same: he introduces himself to anyone who makes eye contact with him. He says he's a big-timer in NYC entertainment. ("You remember Peaches and Herb? I was their manager!") He then claims to have forgotten his wallet. He promises "on the souls of my children!" to pay them back tomorrow for a sandwich and venti latte today.

This little scam was keeping him well fed and out of the breezes for quite some time. As long as he didn't go to the well too often in one location, I guess he figured he was safe.

But, as is the case with most Nasty-Ass Thieves, he just couldn't leave well enough alone.

One after another, customers at this particular 'Bucks complained their stuff had been swiped. Many a budding journalist had left their laptop on a table only to find it missing when they returned from the rest room.

Patrons were warned and rewards were posted, but to no avail.

But on one fateful Saturday, someone headed to the men's room. As he later told the cops, he saw there was a line and turned around just in time to see a man slip HIS laptop under his arm!

A brief foot chase ensued.

The laptop was retrieved; the thief was not.

So if you stop to get a cuppa' or some smokes in the greater D.C. area and you run into a pudgy white guy with sandy hair and a line of BS a mile long, back away slowly.

That'll be our old friend Paulie.

--Joe

 

Price Change Hell

From Doug:

Another tale from my college days working in the drugstore...

From time to time, we'd get these price change sheets from the home office. We'd have to pull all the stock, inventory it, peel off the old price tags, make new ones, stick them on, and restock the shelves.

Loads of fun, right?

So one day we get a price change for some canned weight-loss milkshake crap -- we have about a hundred of them in stock, and the price is going up by TWO F***ING CENTS A CAN.

I point out to the manager that it's going to take me about two hours to change the prices on these, all for what?

Another TWO BUCKS TOTAL?

I make more than that in ONE hour, let alone the two hours it's going to take to do all this crap.

So why do it? It's costing the company money!

Here's his enlightened, thoughtful response: "Shut up and do your job."

Burned By the Bullseye

Hey there, my name's Quinn, and I'll admit that I'm still pretty much fresh meat in the world of retail - my grand total of experience tallied up to about two months, and I worked for a certain well known company that flaunts cutesy white dogs sporting bullseyes and throughout the store gradually attempts to suffocate the customers in an overwhelming presence of the color red.

Why am I used past-tense verbs such as "worked" and not something more present such as "currently slaving away at", you ask?

That'd be because my story isn't actually anything against customers - instead it's a rant about the ridiculous event that lead to me up-in-flames fired after barely getting a taste of true Retail Hell.

I was hired as a seasonal employee, freshest of the fresh, no prior work experience. I got to get my feet wet starting with Black Friday, worked all the way through the busiest of Christmas mad rushes, last minute shoppers, and I did so well (whoopee) that they decided to keep me as a permanent employee.

I even got specifically thanked by LODs and managers for my good work on occasion. Hell, I even sort of liked working there.

...okay, okay, maybe sometimes the dull, blank stares of customers who just couldn’t grasp the question “do you want this all on the card?” would get annoying.

Or the people who would stack all the items they didn't want on the endcaps instead of handing them to me.

Or the people who apparently hadn't heard of price tags, and wanted me to check the price of nearly every object they had...but I digress.

One pretty calm night, the leader on duty came out to tell me that a customer called and said she'd gone through my lane and later realized she didn't have her credit card anymore - could I please check around my register to see if she'd dropped it?

I did so, predictably the card wasn't there, so I went back to working after reporting this. Another hour or so passed, and suddenly the LOD comes out, turns off my lane light, and asks me to follow him to the back. ...h'okay.

I followed him back, and low and behold, here's a man proclaiming to be head of asset's protection in over four other stores in the area! And apparently they want to question me about this woman's credit card. Meaning, they believe I stole it.

Meaning, no they don't want to listen to me say I don't have it, because they've already made up their mind that I do.

For almost an hour I have to sit through this, calmly explaining I don't have the card, they can search me, etc. I even get thrown the, "You know, the police can get pulled into this and they might not be as nice as me" line.

And guess who ends up showing up!

The police.

And guess what they find in my pockets and wallet when they search me?

Nothing!

Well, my own credit card and a twenty dollar bill, that is.

Even after not finding the credit card, one of the cops insisted "he must have stashed it somewhere."

Aaahhh, you got me, copper! I like to take customers' credit cards and then hide them behind the gum and gift card displays. You know, for kicks. A rousing game of hide and seek, if you will.

So why did I get fired if they found no credit card on me and couldn't prove anything?

Well, they'd watched back 2 weeks of footage on me, y'see (2 weeks past footage really helps find credit cards lost that night, I find) and found that I had been stealing gift cards!

Let me spell that part out a bit - sometimes a customer would come in and purchase an item with a gift card.

At the end, I'd inform them they had fifteen cents or so left on it.

Nine times outta ten, I'd be told by the customer to "just toss it, then."

So, I'd sometimes keep them, once they'd told me to throw them away. Get a couple of them, get a candy bar or something with them on my break.

Apparently this is theft!

I was paid off, had to turn in my name tag, and was given a Trespasser's Notice: not allowed back in the building ever, or I can get arrested.

Forget that I had great customer service, that I had a great time score for my transactions, that numerous managers liked me and complimented my work personally - I had taken fifteen cent gift cards out of the trash and used them!

Watch out, future employers.

I'm a loose cannon.

Customer Reject

The perfect place to dump a lampshade.