Retail Hell Underground

Grocery Store Checkout Rules For Custys

I work at a well known supermarket chain with horrible yellow shirts and the motto "just lower prices" which is owned by the Westons, so call me SS Slave.

I work the most "wonderful" part of retail in the store, front cash. As anyone who worked front end as well, you know the joys of lazy, slobby custys who are blaming you for the prices, the fact they can't find anything unless it's right in front of them or the fact that the truck with their precious Oreo's hasn't come in yet because of a massive snow storm.

But this is not a rant about a specific event, this is a rant of nearly a year's worth of idiots. So here are some tips for future custies:

1) Don't throw your shit on the belt with no care and expect me to treat everything as if it is made of glass. If you don't respect it, neither will I.

2) I'm human, I can only scan and pack so far so stop your huffing and whining, if you're in that big of a rush help me pack the bags.

3) Keep your fucking spawn under control. I can't count how many times I've had screaming, crying, bitchy kids in line and parents not doing anything, just standing there, reading a magazine while their spawn tries to tear apart everything they get their hands on.

4) Get off your fucking phone. I don't have time to ask your 6 times how you would like to pay and I don't want to hear about the awesome sex you had last night when you were like totally trashed (yes, this did happen)

5) Don't wait until I'm done with everything to start putting it back in your cart. I run out of space really fast.

6)If you buy a ton of cans, don't bitch to me that your bags are too heavy. You picked the cans, you put them on the belt that way, I pack 'em as I see 'em.

7) No, I will not bag your massive box of Crappy-O's. It won't fit.

8) I plan out how I pack things, I know how much can fit in your bags, don't rip the bags out of my hands snarling "you're going to make it too heavy". I will then make the next one extra heavy.

9) Do not pay for an order with 100's of gas/pharmacy points. It really pisses us off.

10) We used to charge for bags to promote environmental awareness, 5 cents a bag, for most people this was never more than 50 cents extra on their order. You would think that we were charging $10 a bag with the rate of complaints. I don't set the policies, I just have to do what I'm told. It's not the end of the world. If you don't like it, go shop at Sobeys or Walmart. I don't give a shit cause I won't have to deal with you anymore.

11) When I ask at the beginning of an order if you need plastic bags today and you say no, don't stand there like an idiot, pass me your damn bags!

12) No, I will not check the price of every item you chose, that's what the signs are for.

13) I have no idea why we are out of an item, no there is none in the back, yes I'm sure we're out, you can get a rain check from customer service, no not from me c-u-s-t-o-m-e-r s-e-r-v-i-c-e. Over there, 10ft away under the giant yellow sign that says Customer Service.

14) If I'm processing a $500 order, don't ask why it's taking so long. You should know.

It's been a long day, next post...."Colleagues"

--SS Slave

Burger Bitch: Dumbass Drunks

Great, I love stinky drunks just about as much as I love a boat rowing up my ass.

I worked 11-6 on Monday and anytime after five, I'm just "The extra person", I get drinks, help drive thru, etc.

I'm at the back doing some dishes when the new girl asks me over the headset to come up to cash, I figured it was because my supervisor was on break and she just needed help with something.

When I get to the cash all I can smell is booze and fucking weed. Now don't get me wrong, I don't give a fuck's cunt if you drink or smoke or shoot heroin or fuck cattle, just DON'T DO IT NEAR ME! The New! Girl looks like she's about to fall into the fetal position and scream for mommy.

She whispers that she just wants me up there in case something happens. Alright, that's fine, I just pretend to sort out the debit receipts, and here's what went down.

Drunk Guy: -Leans on the counter- I'll have a bunmber foooour.

New!Girl: Alright, is that the combo or just the burger?

Drunk Guy: Oh Man! I can get that in a combo!?

New!Girl: Yes, did you want fries or onion rings?

Drunk Guy: Uuuh. Man, can I get fries instead?

New!Girl: ... Sure.

Then the drunk guy proceeded to tell her that he had to take a piss and told her to hold the order, luckily we were dead so there was nobody else to serve. He comes back about ten minutes later (No, there was no mess in the washroom, I checked.)

Drunk Guy: Ok. I want a Pepsi to drink. And could you shlachange the fries to something like... a bigger fry.

New!Girl: You mean a large fry?

Drunk Guy: Yeah.

New!Girl: That'll be Don't care Dollars and Don't remember cents. (But I know it was over five bucks)

Drunk Guy: -Hands her a five and stumbles off-

New!Girl: Uuh. I still need Whatever amount more!

Drunk Guy: IT'S ALL THERE, CAN'T YOU COUNT!?

Me: Sir, she needs whatever amount more, then you can get your food.

Drunk Guy: BAH! Whatever. -Stumbles over and gives her another ten.

We tried to give him the change but he kept waving us off, so we split the "Tip".

Thanks Stinky Drunk Man for buying me a coffee!

Live Long and Prosper,
Burger Bitch!

Customer Rejects

 

From Heather: "I witnessed piggy reject firsthand yesterday while picking up a few things. Usually, I see the normally missplaced odds and ends, but 1 cherry tomato and a small piece of broccoli? Haha. What the?"

Bad Retail Slave Encounter

Hi there!

This isn't a horror customer but rather horror customer service. 

Today I went to a certain restaurant and I was NOT "lovin' it!"  I ordered an angus burger with bacon.

The cashier asked me, "oh you mean a bacon cheese angus burger?"

I said "Oh, no thanks, I don't want cheese on it, just bacon"

To which she rudely replied "Ma'am, no. Your choices are a bacon cheese burger or a regular angus burger."

Me: "Uhhh...ok.  I'll have a bacon cheese angus burger without cheese."

This goes back and forth a few times, and finally she heaves a huge sigh, and punches something in the computer.

I get my burger, I leave and go home.

Open it up and see cheese melted all over my burger. 

No bacon.

*sigh*

--S.H.

 

Piggy Shoppers's Gross Leftovers

Hello, fellow retail survivors!

I have since moved on from retail work, but I do remember the suffering. This story is gross, but still funny. I worked in a bookstore, one of the big chains but without the well known fancy coffee. My co-workers were *fabulous,* and so was my manager, but we had some very strange customers. 

One day, I was re-shelving books in the science fiction section, helping customers in between, cracking jokes with the shift supervisor, Mike, doing my thing. I went to put a book back and discovered, much to my chagrin, a buffalo wing bone on top of the books. As in, the meat had been eaten, and the bone was just chilling on the books.

Shocked (this was my first and thankfully biggest gross out incident), I scrambled back to the information desk for tissues. I grabbed a handful, ran back to the shelf with the bone, and removed it and two of the books stained with sauce. The bone was cold, like it had either been sitting there for a while or someone had come in with half eaten food and just decided to dispose of it in the science fiction section.

On my way to the trash can, Mike stopped me and asked what was going on. I explained, and he made a face but then got called to the registers.

I took the box of tissues and patrolled the section. I found no less than FOUR chicken bones.

All cold.

Four of them.

In various places on the shelves.

I cleaned up, disposing of the bones, and went back to work. Mike and I ended up laughing about it, but seriously, who does that?

Ugh. Gross.

Stay strong, Retail Slaves!

-- The Bookseller

 

Hell Spawn Attack At Walmart

From Hiedi:

Yesterday was my day off from work and I went to do some shopping at Walmart and...the enclosed photo is what I found in one of the aisles.

I went to the two poor retail slaves and said I am SO sorry you have to clean up after some jerk. The poor slave, who was pissed said it what I saw was the doing of a black lady's two  children.  They were being little turds, running up and down screaming and being brats and she just ignored them.  I told her I was so, so sorry that some people are unable to parent their kids.

--Hiedi

 

Return Nightmare At Lumber Store

From Lumber Girl:

Now, I work in a friendly neighborhood lumber store, which usually has some pretty awesome customers, and I work with some pretty good people too. Despite issues with me being a young university-aged girl who works in a fairly male-dominated industry with mostly male customers, and dealing with the occasional creepy customer who thinks that it's ok to be crude and disgusting to me because I have the audacity to work around lumber AND be a young girl, life is normally pretty good at the lumber store. 

However, on Canada's holiest of holy days, the Olympic gold medal hockey game between USA and Canada, life was not so good. I don't even know why we had customers- go home and be Canadian and watch your goddamned hockey. Quit telling me it's awful that I have to work on a day like today and miss all the action on TV. I wouldn't be working if people like you didn't come in to buy shit. 

I had one customer come in with his Hell Spawn trailing behind him, making some big deal about how he needed to return something because it was missing a part. 

Ok, fine, I can deal with that. I asked for a receipt, and he handed me a slip of paper with the names of the items and their prices handwritten down, with our store's stamp on it. 

This was clearly not an official receipt. 

I asked if he had another proof of purchase, as this was not an official receipt. He started getting irate, telling me that this is what we gave him, how dare I question him, it has our stamp on it so how could we say it isn't ours (which is irrelevant, as one of our stamps was recently stolen) etc. etc. 

I told him I could give him an exchange on the item only, and he huffed and puffed and finally agreed. I went to go look for the item in question, and because life hates me, there was none left. 

I informed him of this, and the dickweed looked at me and said, "Well, looks like you're going to have to give me my money back, now, doesn't it?" and puffed his chest out like the self-important douche he was. 

In the background, his Hell Spawn was knocking down items and pulling things off the shelf and doing things Hell Spawn tend to do. His father half-assedly asked him to clean up and the kid threw a fit and started whining for his father to help him fix his mess. I appreciated the irony of his Hell Spawn yelling at him to fix something that wasn't his fault, but it warmed my heart only briefly as I realized I'd be the one who'd clean it up in the end.

I asked again if he had another receipt, as it was possible that another employee wrote that note out for him so he could do price comparisons only, but when he bought the item he received an actual receipt, and he got confused by the two pieces of paper.  

The guy starts yelling for me and my coworker to get a manager, call our boss up, and all that good stuff. We tried calling our superiors, but everyone who had the authority to do something about the situation was at home, in the middle of watching the Olympic game like everyone else in Canada, and not picking up the phone. 

We told the guy to come back on a weekday, when there might be someone who had the authority to help him. He yelled again about how he has work on weekdays and we should accommodate his schedule! 

NEWSFLASH: Our bosses only work weekdays too. It's why the college kids with no authority to solve your problems work weekends. Retail slaves with seniority don't have to work shitty weekend shifts to accommodate your life. 

We offered him a store credit for his items, and he refused that as well, yelling about how he doesn't want a store credit because he never wants to get anything from our store again.

After yelling at us a bit more, the douche yells that he's taking his stuff and never shopping at our store again.

One can only hope.

--Lumber Girl

 

Passover Custy Reject

Happy Passover to all of our Jewish friends!

Crazy Lady Encounter

Sea Slave here, just popping in with something that happened to make my day.

Now, normally, my customers are pretty nice people. Once during Friday lunch rush a customer started screaming at me and the lady behind her stood up for me and prevented me from just breaking down. Not only that, but the same lady has saved my ass countless times.

Sometimes it's something as simple as keeping customers in line to something as job saving as helping me with my math. ( I have a really hard time with it; it makes me feel so stupid! )

Every once in awhile, though, we get the weirdest people.

An older lady, around 65 or so, came in on thursday afternoon. I'm going to hand her food when she draws the attention of my boss and starts yelling...

"THIS ISN'T LIKE ENGLAND!!"

In an Italian accent. o.O

She just kept shouting it as she took her food and started to eat, all the while standing at the counter. XD;

My boss starts yelling back and by then I was just no good. My cook and I had to hide in the back until she left - still screaming about England. We were laughing so hard! Which makes me wonder....

If you don't like the food, why buy from here?

-- Sea Slave

Walmart Crusty Douchebag Encounter

Hey there RHU-ers!! Call me Mab. I used to work at Wal-Fart.

It wasn't such a bad job. The co-workers were pretty decent and the management was awesome. Our store was a new store. There were many people that were opposed to the company coming in, but after 6 months, most of them came around.

My story happened about a year after I started there. I knew what I was doing, I was good at my job, and I had never gotten any complaints.

A gentleman came through my line about an hour before I was done with my shift. He was buying things for a baseball team. As most people who work at Wal-Fart know, they issue tax exempt cards for a lot of people and organizations, like baseball teams, non-profits, etc.

He had a cartful of stuff for the baseball team and one item for himself. He got all the tax-exempt stuff. After he paid for that, he purchased ONE SMALL ITEM. I put it in a small bag, and put it on the counter by the credit card machine. He saw it there and I mentioned it twice before he went on his merry way.

I looked up from the next transaction to see it STILL SITTING THERE!!!!!!

At our store, there had been A LOT of left behinds, so they made a rule that you got 3 free a month and after that you got penalized. It was my first one that month. No big deal right?

WRONG!!!!!

I was doing a WIC transaction; they had started a new program where you could get X amount of dollars worth of fruits and veggies. It was my first time seeing one, so I was concentrating, as I didn't want to mess up.

He came back in and stood behind me tapping his foot; obviously he was in a hurry or something, cuz no one else's time mattered to him.

I looked at him, handed him the bag, apologized for him forgetting it (because that's MY fault), and he went on his merry way. I thought that was the end of it.

I was wrong.

He called the corporate number to complain about me; he said I was rude, never made eye contact, and I had been arrogant.

My manager called me into the office to talk to me about it. I explained the situation, and she was very understanding. But, since he had called the corporate hotline, I had to get written up.

What a selfish prick.

I hadn't seen him since that day, and thank God I didn't, as I would have been rude and arrogant to him.

Why are people so blind???

xoxo RHU-ers.

--Mab

  

Pleased Retail Slave

An update on the custy called Fat Grouch from a post sent by Michael:

A quick note to say that Fat Grouch was in again this evening, during my shift.  It was so awesome. 

When he entered the store, he asked the cashier for someone to help him, and SPECIFIED:

"Anybody but that guy with (description of my physical features)."

Oh, but that's not all. You see, I didn't hear that tidbit until AFTER I crossed paths with him, while his back was turned looking at some shelved items. 

Not recognizing him immediately due to there being lots of obese, short men that come into the store, I asked him if I could assist him in anything.

Recognizing my voice he grumbled, "Not from YOU."

I realized who it was, and started chuckling as I walked on to find somebody else to help.  I don't know how I managed it exactly, but I've trained a bad custy to not work with me!

Oh so pleased.

--Michael

 

Every Register Needs This Button

Would be nice is the button released a fire hose full of slime!

Found on the Fail Blog by Chris.

Tale of Three Piggy Families

From Credit Slave:

What up slaves! I've been working at a popular department store that I'll call “Tears” for almost a half a year now.  For a retail job, it's ok.  I don't want to kill myself most nights.

One problem, though, is that I constantly get assigned to the Kids department, the place that every cashier here dreads. I spend my whole shift isolated there, surrounded by screaming children and their horrible excuses for parents.   

Here are three families that have stood out to me over my six months in hell:

Piggy Family 1:

A young couple came in with their two children. Their infant was in a stroller, while their other child, around two, sat in a cart and chewed on popcorn. The mom picked out a tandem stroller she liked and thought about buying it, but the dad told her not to. 

Why? 

HE DIDN'T WANT TO PUT IT TOGETHER.   

Are you kidding me?  You're willing to lug your child around in a cart like he was groceries, just because your lazy ass doesn't want to spend probably a half hour putting a stroller together? 

The couple leaves me to stare after them in disbelief and pick up the soggy popcorn their child dropped all over the floor. Gross.

Piggy Family 2:

This actually happened to my awesome manager, but I have to share. In our store, floor models have special codes that ring up at $.01 so we know not to sell them and so they don't show up in the computer. A customer found out that a stroller was that price and demanded my manager to sell it to her.

Manager: I'm sorry ma'am, but this is the floor model, it's not for sale, we can get you one from the back in just a minute.

Custy: And I'll be getting it for 1 cent, right?

Manager: Uh, no.  That's just a code we put in so we don't sell this floor model.

Custy: Well why CAN'T I buy it?! It's marked a cent, you guys are lying to your customers!

Manager: Ma'am, there is no way we can give you a stroller for one cent.

Custy's daughter: I told you it was too good to be true...

Piggy Family 3:

I was folding clothes and could hear this mother and two daughters YELLING at each in the back other over which items on sale, stuff costing too much, etc. I kept thinking, why do they have to be so obnoxious? 

Then I saw.

The mom was riding a fucking rascal. This piggy custy, who couldn't have been anywhere near 250 pounds and didn't look like she had anything wrong with her, was sitting on her ass and having her poor kids do everything for her. 

I am totally understanding if a customer has something wrong with them, but if that lady actually needed the rascal, I'll eat it.

I bet you can imaging how hard it is to control your kids when you're too lazy to get up off your ass and do anything more then yell at them. The custy was constantly yelling at the youngest one for misbehaving (while her kid ignored her and kept being obnoxious), and complaining about how she couldn't maneuver her scooter through the aisles.  

This family was living proof that pigs don't wander far from the trough, because the older daughter spotted a rack of leggings on sale and tried to convince her mom to buy them for her. 

Leggings intended for TODDLERS. Her argument? 

“I'm going to wear them with shorts anyway.” 

But the biggest fight was later that night over what size shorts her teenage daughter was buying.

Mom: I'm not buying you those, what size are they?

Kid: It's a size five, MOM!

Mom: Lift your shirt up.

(Kid lifts up shirt to reveal that she is BURSTING out of the shorts, with several inches of crack showing)

Kid: MOM, I'm going to lose weight!

Mom: You're not fat, you're growing! Try on the seven!

Kid: MOM, the seven is ugly on meeeeee!!!!

At least the pig had the sense to not give her daughter an eating disorder.  Thanks for listening. Any way you want it, just please God, sign the form.

--Credit Slut

  

 

Peeps In Retail Hell

When RHU started we followed our hard working Peeps friends enduring Retail Hell at the bullseye and last year the poor marshmallow slaves endured grocery hell. On Friday look for a new store hell pictorial as Peeps in Retail Hell continues...

To see the rest of Peeps in Target Retail Hell, CLICK HERE

To see the Grocery Hell Peeps CLICK HERE

Chocolate Bunny Massacre

   

Kerry Fitting Room Nightmare 22: Custy With Hangar Problems

"Apparently it's necessary to turn the shirt and hanger completely upside down to hang it up"

--Kerry

 

Smosh Mess For Less Poopy Hell

Wolfycat again. It's my day off, my feet are propped up and I have several candy and fast food wrappers littered around the general vicinity.

I swear my job stress is making me gain weight. Yesterday I had entered the deepest layer of Smosh Mess for Less HELL!

My shift was noon to closing, and my manager decided to make me the go-between bitch and have me do a bit of everything. I was on recovering, sizing the juniors section, shoes, backup cashier, and running racks for fitting rooms. Oh, and on top of that I kept getting called to the Watch Tower (glass cases where the watches, fine jewelry and expensive sunglasses are kept).

The first hour went by busy but uneventful. Then this lady comes in, who I'll call Miss Scarlet. She had a lovely southern twang and had mannerisms very similar to the Gone With the Wind character. I got called to the Watch Tower to help her. I unlocked the cases and stood back to let her do her thing. I watched her for at least 20 minutes try on every piece of jewelry, every pair of sunglasses, and then gawk at the perfumes.

"Do you have (name of ridiculously expensive men's cologne)?" asked Miss Scarlet.

"I don't believe we do." I said.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste."How...slack."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. She then whipped out her cell phone and told her husband "Ashley" to come to the store. Then she turns to me. "I'm going to wait for my husband to come so he can pay."

"Okay," I said pleasantly. "Would you like me to reserve your items up front?"

"Oh...no. I need him to come and approve of my purchases."

"Oh, okay...is he in the parking lot?" I asked.

"No, he's coming from (town 45 minutes away). He'll be here in a minute."

Damn, he must be one hell of a lead foot.

I ask her again if she wanted me to hold anything while she waited, she politely refused again, so I locked the cases once more and we parted ways.

In the time it had taken for her husband to arrive at the store, I had finished sizing juniors, given up on shoes (they are a hopeless case to keep in order during business hours), and ran two fitting room racks.

I get a call to the Watch Tower again, and sure enough, Miss Scarlet and Mr. Ashley are waiting for me. I reopen the cases and Miss Scarlet then proceeds to whine and beg with Mr. Ashley to buy her all this random shit that's in the cases and he ends up storming out in a huff. Okay, then! I lock the cases and go on my way.

Then about an hour later I witness a coworker catch someone trying to smuggle a pair of shoes past the registers. The genius cut the cord thing on the hard tag...but then put the hard tag in her pocket. Our LP guy was quite astonished that he actually had something to do this early in the day.

It was probably three hours before closing and this group comes in. It consists of two women in their thirties, a teenage girl, and two boys under age five. The women are in the lingerie section picking out butt floss, the two boys gravitate to the toy section, and the girl goes to the junior section. I'm finishing up running a rack around that area and then I go relieve fitting room girl so she can take a lunch.

Everything at that point was uneventful except for the large guy that stank up the whole back end by taking a massive dump in the men's room and just grinning creepily at me as he left.

So I plug my nose and start spraying non-scented deodorizer. LP guy comes to take a potty break, taking spray in with him to try and oust the odor still lurking inside. Giggling ensues.

One of the ladies from earlier comes up dragging one of the little boys by the hand. "Where's the restroom?" she asks.

I point directly behind her. A few minutes later I hear two sharp smacks and the little boy's wails echo off the walls. The lady starts scolding him about misbehaving and he yells about his tummy hurting. He keeps crying for a while, but I get a sudden rush of '8-item-ers' and soon forget about them. The toy section is around the corner and lingerie is in clear view from the fitting rooms. After they came back out the lady must have stuck the teenage girl with watching the boys and went back to lingerie to pick out more butt floss.

It was between rushes when it happened.

Everything was sorted, no racks needed running, and I was just putting the non-slip foam thingies on the hangers and keeping an eye out for more custys. The little boy from earlier emerges from the toy section yelling for mommy.

He runs up the aisle towards lingerie, leaving a trail of diarrhea behind him. My jaw drops in shock. LP guy was in the office and was on his way to the water fountain and he saw it. He goes to get the floor signs and I call the manager and front desk. I tell them the description of the mom and boy.

As soon as I get off the phone with them, two girls come up. One's hopping on one foot holding a flip-flop covered in shit.

Without a word I give her sanitizer and some paper towels and send her off to the bathroom. LP guy buzzes me on the phone and says the trail went from toys all the way up to shoes and that we were in bad need of a mop.

And a Haz-mat crew.

I'm kind of freaking out because custys coming back out of the fitting room are trying to find a way to cross Poop River, manager and LP guy are still marking Poop River in other parts of the store, and I can't leave my post to get the mop ready from the utility closet.

Fitting room girl comes back from lunch looking like she might spout it back up again. I go get the mop and start conquering Poop River. Manager comes back and starts spraying disinfectant all over the place.

Mopping that shit almost took me an hour. I had to change water like 3 times. Ugh.

And it turns out the mom and kid bailed right after that. Perhaps it's a good thing, because if they had still been in the store trailing more shit, I would have made them bathe in the smelly poopy mop water!

The only bright side was that the Nice Cutie Manager guy just made me clear the front end and sort nubs after closing and then horsed around on the intercom to entertain everyone else on the floor finishing up.

No other custy messes from then on ever compared to Poop River.

When a custy makes a mess we say "Eh, shit happens."

--Wolfycat

Homophobic Walmart Manager

From Gayboy color:

My biggest issue from my last job is co-workers and of course the ever tyrannous Customers. I worked at the local North Dakota Wal-fart's lawn and garden center (I had applied for an electronics position so they decided to put me out of my element i guess.) Where I did everything from Cashier to Floor 'associate'/errand boy. A few of my co-workers where amazing, The kind of people that would make you laugh even at the worst of times to make you feel better then offer to help with your shift.

But a fair amount of the folks in the garden center including my old CSM or 'Customer service manager' were lying blood thirsty creatures talking behind each others backs. Personally I tried to stay out of their way so they left me alone most times unless someone tried to blame me for something. But the CSM and customers got really bad from around February till the time I quit/was fired in November.

Now I'm not sure what this is worth to you readers out there but I'm gayer then a two dollar bill and that isn't something I show in public or even privately most times. The kind that when someone finds out the don't believe it unless they see proof because I just don't act it in the slightest bit. (Probably from the years I've hidden that fact because of the negative media and mindset.) and around February last year they where working on adding gays to a protected list up here in North Dakota.

Up until that point people like me could be fired from our jobs (Like I had been from my last job) or evicted from apartments or other such things just because we where gay. And apparently that made every person think there anti gay opinions suddenly needed to be told to every other random person who was forced to listen (I.E. The poor slaves running the register required to ask "How are you today?" even if we didn't care to hear them spout the same non-sense as the last customer.)

So every day of that month I endured people insulting what I was and telling me people like me didn't deserve to be treated equally because of a 'choice' we made, and comparing us to child molesters or rapists, even though they had no idea that I was gay.

Back to the story, at some point my CSM found out I was gay either he caught a glimpse of me out with a guy (Which in itself is a very rare occasion since they are so hard to find around here), or one of my friends went running their mouth. Either way it felt like he made it his personal mission to make my life miserable by any means necessary (But for some reason never told my co-workers or they never believed him).

Everything from skipping out on his work leaving it for me (Since he was morning shift i was closing shift) or saying things under his breath when he walked past me. Between him and every other 'self righteous' custy, and their hell spawn with poisoned minds, I came home and cried.

Eventually the law passed and we where given a few rights up here in the frozen north but that didn't halt my CSM's insults and stuff. I filed numerous harassment reports but management never acknowledge them in any way. Even though the company CBL training program said sexuality was protected, the written rules and harassment forums with information conveniently left sexual preference off the list of things associates can be punished for apparently.

Eventually I had to stop showing up because I couldn't deal with that anymore and a short while later they informed me I was fired.

To this day they never took any action and I was informed said CSM quit and moved on to a bigger better job still as a Customer service person. (Hopefully he has to deal with a level of customer hell unbeknown to anyone before.)

Now don't take me wrong I'm not saying North Dakota is a horrible place full of bigots and hate, aside from everything it's still a wonderful place with many wonderful people. It's just the assholes always have a louder voice.

Good day and have a good rest of the week.

--Gayboy color

Furniture Sale FAIL

From Failblog. The real fail here is the ugliness of the chairs and the price. They aren't just Destined For More Markdown, they are destined for the outlet store.

 

Those Crazy Electronics Custys

From Best Bastard:

Happened to a coworker this week...

Customer brought in an iPhone that had "the white screen." This is usually caused by water damage or extreme use, though very, very rarely it can be fixed by a simple update. There were no signs of damage but slight signs of water damage, which we cover, but would require it to be sent out for service rather than replaced on the spot. You get a loaner phone, so it's usually not a problem.

However... This custy was "special." And I don't mean he was autistic, or mentally handicapped at all. He was "special" because he was a surgeon and, as we all know, he required special treatment because he is such a self-sacrificing individual. Ha.

So anyway, he wanted us to give him a free iPhone as a replacement. Apparently, he had found a way around the rules previously and wanted the same thing over. However, our rules have since changed and this little loophole was no longer possible. Plus, it would be totally unfair to other custys.

We let him know about the loaner program and that the repair would be free, but of course this is just unacceptable as he NEEDS and iPhone NOW. Coworker explains why this isn't possible and repeats what we can do.

How does the surgeon reply?

"Just know that if you're ever on my operating table, I won't be doing you any favors."

O.O

My jaw dropped. Did he just say that? I want his fucking name. I want his fucking place of work. I want his fucking insurance company's contact information.

He eventually went grudgingly on his way with his loaner phone but not before talking to our Apple rep (who works for Apple, not BBY) to bitch about our policies. He asked what our Apple rep thought about our policies and he said, rightly, "It's not my place, as I don't work for Best Buy. If you have any questions about Apple's policies, I can give you information on those but it's not my place to comment about Best Buy's policies. If you want to talk about those, I suggest you talk to the GM."

Apparently he did. Bloody fool.

Oh, and we also got a visit from one of our favorite custys <3 <3 <3!!!! I don't know her name because we all know her as "Batshit fucking insane lady."

No, seriously. Certifiably. Nuthouse, straitjacket, medication, nice young men in their clean white coats, please come and take her away, haha. She is straight up delusional. I didn't recognize her from behind and asked if I could help her (note, she was at a Mac.)

Me- "Can I help you find anything today, ma'am?"  (gleaming smile of retail hell)

Her- *sigh* "My mother invented the computer. Where's explorer on this thing? I hate apple! I do!" blahblahblah something about a business account "I have an account, how to I email? Where's Yahoo?"

Me- (trying to hide the rage) fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.......... " Oh, I think our Business rep is here today let me just find him for you..............." (fucking bolt away)

Apparently she had placed a business order (wtf she really had an account?!) and I help our rep find her crap. We walk out of the warehouse and she's got her hand in the shape of a gun, pointing it to her head and mouthing "shoot me.... shoot me...." in front of what I assume is her ~10 year old daughter.

I decided to take the long way back to the department.

Living the dream!

--Best Bastard