Here at Smosh, we have four managers.
Two of them are the coolest, awesomest, We-don't-take-no-shit Managers.
The other two are eeeeeevil Managers.
This week has just made me go "D'oh!"
I was in fitting room again, and earlier that day, a Business Lady had come in to shop on her lunch break.
She left two pantsuits on hold with me and firmly assured me that she was coming back after six to get them.
I would still be working then, so I put her info and the date on the slip, stuck it to her stuff, and hung it on the end of the rack by the wall where I couldn't lose it.
6:30PM rolls around and Business Lady is there to pick up her stuff.
I hop over to the spot on the rack by the wall and the two pantsuits are gone! I rummaged through the rest of the rack.
Nada. I'm wondering, did some other business attire wearing custy swipe them when I had my back turned?
I called up the manager's office where Barbs was. I asked if she had maybe checked up on fitting rooms earlier.
Barbs: Oh, yeah. A bunch of those holds had the wrong date. You aren't supposed to mark it as tomorrow. It's against policy.
Barbs: *huge sigh* Today is the 11th. Marking it for the 12th is not allowed. You should know that.
Me: Barbs...today is Tuesday...the 12th.
Barbs: *another sigh* Today is the 11th. I am not going to argue with you.
Me: *pulls out cell, checks calendar, notes the big honking 12 indicated as TODAY*
By this time, Nice Manager #1 by the name of Cam walks by. I ask him today's date and he says "'Tis the twelfth day in the month of October" (no kidding, that actually happened).
Me: *on the phone* As today is indeed the 12th, there is a lady waiting here who had put on hold two pantsuits earlier today and is here to pick them up.
Barbs: *yet another sigh* What do you want me to do?
Me: Well, can you tell me what you did with all those holds?
Barbs: I put them back on the floor.
*cue agonized look on my face*
"WHAT??? When I put something on hold here, I expect it to be HERE when I come back! Is that too much to ask for?!"
Great. Yes, yell at me because that feels aaaaawesome.
Cam picks up on what happened and offers to go fetch the items, assuming Barbs put them in the right section.
5 minutes later, he comes back with items in hand. Business Lady leaves. All is good for the moment. Then he goes to the phone and dials the office. Barbs answers with a huge sigh, and then he picks up the receiver. His side of the conversation went like:
Cam: Hey, what's up?...Is anything wrong?...What was wrong with the holds in fitting rooms?...Naw, it's the 12th!...Yeah!...No, I'm not kidding, I had to chase down pantsuits!
He hangs up shaking his head. "She's been on the computer for most of the day. she seriously didn't know what day it was."
And then later on as I'm about to clock out, Bob blocks me from getting to the computer and plays a game of 20 questions.
Bob: Haven't you already taken a lunch today?
Me: Yes, but I'm clocking out now.
Bob: You know you don't clock out for a break?
Me: I'm going home. (thinking: "can't you see my purse and lunchbox?")
Bob: No you aren't, you're closing today.
Me: Umm....no. I've been here since 10. I have a test to study for tomorrow.
Bob: We really need someone to help close tonight.
Me: I am going to clock out now.
Bob: Have you done your sizing area?
Me: *about to bite*
Supervisor: BOB! Really, dude, move. She's going home.
I've had enough, so I just went to an empty register and clocked out there. HASTA LA VISTA, BEBEH!
And then on Thursday, I was picked to tidy up women's shoes because bitches just decided throwing them at the floor, stuffing their diseased feet into them, and then kicking them under the shelves was SO ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT.
Then, as I'm tidying up sizes 9-12 (seriously, EVERYTHING WAS ON THE FLOOR), I hear giggly teens in the size 7 aisle chanting the word PENIS. Like, four girls were taking turns saying it, building up the volume a bit more each time. I make my way to that aisle just as the purple-haired chick all out bellows "PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNIIIIIIIIISSSSSS!!!"
"HEY!" I scolded. "Watch your language--" ZOOOM. Those girls couldn't have high-tailed it out of there fast enough. Pretty much everyone at the registers had heard and glared at them as they left.
Then today (Friday), Everyone was completely insane.
This one lady came up to me and yelled: "YOU MAKE A CRAPPY JOB AT MAKING CLOTHES! THIS THREAD COUNT IS SHITTY!"
I don't make the clothes, I just sell them.
"THEN TELL WHOEVER MADE THIS SHIT TO QUIT THEIR DAY JOB!!!"
You want me to tell Calvin Klein to quit his day job?? OK, but he's not gonna be too happy...
Then there was Psycho Rage Bitch who came in about a half hour before closing.
She had loaded her cart with a couple heavy boxes of dishes and silverware and a bunch of other random shit. I was finishing up sizing Dress World.
I was huddled right up to the rack so that people could pass me with plenty of room. I then had to get to the next aisle, so I peeked around the corner.
Everything was clear. PRB had her cart there and was looking at shirts, so I stepped out and WHAM!
All of a sudden PRB is trying to force her cart into my ribs. One of the wheels jumps up on my foot.
PRB: *raging* Watch where you're going!
Me: OWOWOWOW! Holyshitgetyourfuckingcartoffme!
I pushed her cart forcibly away from me, but she was pushing back and my foot was still trapped.
PRB looked like she was possessed or something and she could jump over the cart and bite my face off.
I grab hold of the cart and lift it off of my foot.
I back up and she makes like a ram and pushes her cart into my hip.
At this point, I completely lose it. I grab the end of the cart, yank it away from her, and push it off down the center aisle.
Me: What the fuck is your problem?!
PRB: You can't talk to me like that!
Me: The hell I can when you try to run me down on purpose!
At this point Race (LP guy) races up and gets between us.
"You need to leave." he says to PRB.
"I WANT TO TALK TO YOUR MANAGER!" PRB yells.
Cam jogs up to us from the back.
"You assaulted an employee. Either leave now or I can call you a police escort."
Bitch walked out bitching about how our store sucks and whatnot.
I now have a swollen and bruised foot, and my hip looks like I really enjoy BDSM.
My boyfriend didn't believe me when I told him about my day and I don't blame him.
I never want to do that again.