It's been crazy.
I must admit I've been a little stressed, what with starting my new interpreting class, taking a motorcycle course, watching a girl have a random seizure in said course and almost die (before you say it - no epilepsy or seizure history. Just a random 22 year old having a seizure. Scared the fucking bejeesus out of me), and then because I was quite shaken, crashing a motorcycle....into my mother. Heh.
BUT I have missed you all, so I'm back to astound you with tales of awful people.
In one recent shift, I was greeting, a slow and hellish ball-breaking task. I'm a fairly good (fake) people person though, so I just smile and wave. This man comes strolling in with an Old Navy bag in one hand and I immediately realize I'm in trouble. His bag has our Christmas design on it. Fuckity fuck fuck.
SirFuckface: Yeah I need to exchange these, they don't fit.
Me: Ok, no problem, do you have a receipt?
SF: Yeah, I got them for Christmas and they're too small. *hands me receipt. Date? Dec. 23*
Me: Ok sir, well unfortunately our return policy only covers 90 days, so we won't be able to exchange this for you *ITS BEEN FOUR MONTHS ASSWIPE*
SF: But....I just want to exchange them, not return them!
Me: Yes, well that falls under the return policy.
SF: WHAT?! So what am I supposed to do, just throw them away?!?
Me: No, no don't do that! If you really can't wear them or don't know anyone you can give them to, you could always donate them.
SF: Yeah right, like I'm gonna do that.
That sound you hear at this point is me punching him in the dick in my mind. What a douchenozzle.
He then starts screaming about how he's a regular customer and he's spent tons of money at our store and he'll never come back and FUCK THIS PLACE! Que storming out.
A couple days later I was working my ass off in the fitting rooms, running back and forth cleaning up people's messes (you ever feel like your doing other people's laundry? Ugh, I do.), and just generally busting my ass. A woman comes in with her two children, about age 6 (fraternal twins), we set up a fitting room for each child, and the nightmare begins.
These kids are literally THROWING CLOTHING over the tops of the doors, to the point where shorts were getting caught and I had to use that little hook thing that I think is my Gandalf staff to get them down. There was screaming and children slamming and locking doors, and Mom yelling......my head just reeled.
I thought I was watching the Twilight Zone. Kind of like a train wreck, you can't stop staring.....to which the mom just kept saying "I'm sorry, I have really bad kids".
REALLY LADY? REALLY? WHOSE FAULT IS THAT!? My mother would have beat me like a redheaded stepchild right there in the middle of the store if I acted like such a little beast. It was like a horror film that wouldn't end....
This weekend is the famous $1 flip flop sale. If I survive, and I may not, I'll let you know how it goes.