Retail Hell Underground

Horrid Manager Tries To Control Science Ninja

Hey RHU!

Due to the glorious return of the internet, I can start telling my back log of stories! I am gonna split this into two because I must of really offended the retail gods recently, that's the only explanation I have for how much shit I have put up with the past couple of days!

I will start with a story which sets this all up. One of the girls I work with - who I shall call Gurl - booked 4 weeks off to go on holiday, this was approved by Horrid Manager, all fine and dandy.

Then, the week before her holiday, she handed in her notice. Now, I know this is a little bitchy to do, but technically it is allowed. But Horrid Manager went mad.

She denied ever having seen any holiday forms (she's been really good at doing this recently) and swore blind she didn't approve the holiday.

So guess who's been calling in sick to all her shifts...

Anyway, I was scheduled to work for an hour last Friday. Now, this was ridiculous. Due to my wages, and the distance I live from the store, I actually lose money if I don't work for at least 2 hours. So fuck off was I going to do a 1 hour shift.

With the advice from my supervisor, I tell Horrid Manager that I am going to work 3 hours that day, or not at all. I get a text on Thursday saying "Work 3 hours."

All fine and dandy, I go in for my shift, happy as Larry - there were hardly any customers due to us being the only store in the whole town that was open that late - and I am serving one of the few customers when Horrid Manager walks behind me.

"You're working all day tomorrow"

Then she walked off. That was it. The look of horror must have shown on my face cause the customer I was serving said "You weren't expecting that, were you?"

Now, on Saturday I was supposed to be running a charity event that, for complicated legal reasons, could not go ahead if I wasn't there. So, I run after Horrid Manager and have this conversation:

Science Ninja: "I can't work tomorrow, I have something else I have to do."

Horrid Manager: "I don't think Gurl is going to come in. You are covering her shift. 9-7."

Science Ninja: "I am really sorry, I can't do that. I am running a charity event!"

Horrid Manager: "When does it start?"

Science Ninja: "I need to be in (town an hours drive away) at 2."

Horrid Manager: "Work 9-2."

Science Ninja: "No, I need to be in TOWN at 2."

She then proceeds on this massive spiel about how I have no work ethic, I don't care about the company, I never take extra shifts (BULLSHIT I cancelled a long planned family holiday to work shifts for this bitch next week) blah blah blah until she finally wears me down to agreeing to work 9-1. I tell her, flat out, that I AM leaving at one o'clock, no exceptions.

I go home, and shout at my (long suffering) boyfriend in the car on the way back, I am so angry.

Anyway, I roll my fat arse out of bed on the Saturday morning, apologise to boyfriend that I am getting up so early on his lie in day, and head into work.

Walk in and Horrid Manager has scheduled me to work the full day. Huh.

Go and find her, she replies with "You agreed to work the whole day."

I inform her that, actually, there are 3 witnesses to me saying I can only work until 1. Find 2 witnesses, phone the other, they all agree with me.

Horrid Manager then tells me that I had to work the whole day anyway. I tell her I am leaving at 1.

At 12, Horrid Manager comes over and says it's too busy, I am not allowed to leave. I tell her I am leaving in an hour.

She then smirks, and leaves me on the department on my own for the next hour. 1 o' clock comes. No one has come to take me off the department. If I leave the department unattended, I would get fired. I see Horrid Manager's plan. I phone to try and get someone to cover, no one is answering. In the end, at 1:30, I snag an unwitting coworker who is walking past, explain the situation to her (by this point I am hyperventilating in panic), and leave.

I got to the charity event (just) in time, so that was all good, and I wasn't fired when I was talking to the top Manager on Sunday, so it all went ok I presume (apart from the intense stress they put me through, of course.)

Sigh. I will return to you with my other story if my internet keeps playing nice!

May all your managers not be made of knob cheese,

--The Science Ninja.

Entitled Bitch Thinks She's More Important Than A Spill

TLA again. What are customers using for brains these days?

Today we had a spill in the store. No big deal, life's a bitch and then you marry one, so I figure I'll clean it up. I get what I need and begin removing the spill from the floor. Along comes Brainless Bitch.

BB: "Hey, you!" [taps me on the shoulder] "I need help finding [item]!"

Me: "One of the other associates will be glad to help you, miss."

BB: "YOU can help me! You're not doing anything!"

Me: [looks at half-cleaned-up spill, at her, then back at the spill, in disbelief]

I continue to clean up the spill. I really don't want someone to come along and slip because it was left on the floor.

BB [as she's watching me clean]: "Get off your lazy ass and help me!"

Me: "One of the other associates can help you."

BB: "I'm going to report you to your manager! You're being a lazy, unhelpful brat!"

[Jerk happens to be standing 3 feet from us, watching me clean to make sure I am thorough. If I don't clean it well and someone slips in the residue, the store could be sued, which is why he's so concerned.]

Jerk: "I am the manager, and he is doing exactly what he's supposed to be doing. If you're too stupid to see that, you shouldn't be allowed out of the house by yourself.."

BB: [spluttering incoherently]

I finish cleaning the spill and put away the cleaning supplies. BB is still standing there, stamping her foot and mumbling incoherent gibberish as Jerk waits patiently for her to say something intelligible.

Me: "I believe you wanted to know the location of [item], miss?"

May all your customers use their head for something other than a hat rack.

-- TLA

Karebear Updates About StuckUp And Snob

Pepper and I have decided to look for a new gym. We found one that was a little more pricey, but much friendlier. However, BlueEyes decided to stay behind at the old place, and since he and Pepper are still in contact, we heard about the lovely events that went down.

Turns out Snob and StuckUp were underage. 16 years old to be exact. I still wondered why they weren't in school then because we went at different hours of the day - both morning and afternoons. But whatever, not my business really.

Well, turns out one of them, I want to say Snob, but could have been StuckUp (BlueEyes said the blonde, they were both blonde) was pregnant. Mommy and Daddy found out, went ape shit, started to press for information about the father. Snob/StuckUp said it was the manager of the gym (not the owner, just manager) who is well into his 40's.

BlueEyes said Daddy of Snob/StuckUp came bursting into the gym and started going ape shit crazy.

According to BlueEyes the rant went something like, "Who the fuck do you hire? Do you not even look at their records to make sure they aren't kiddie rapists? And TO LET THEM DO IT HERE IN YOUR GYM! I should sue! I'm going to sue! I want this fucker arrested right now!!!"

That's really all the details we got because the owner dragged the screaming father into the office and shut the door. BlueEyes decided it was time to get ready to leave and said he saw two police officers and Snob/StuckUp and her mother enter on his way out.

Whether this girl is speaking the truth or pulling some bullshit out of spite for some reason, I'm still glad Pepper and I left. I'll stay at my drama-free gym from now on, thankyouverymuch. (Old gym was kind of in a seedy looking area...go figure.)

--Karebear

A Custy Who Can't Tell Golden Arches From Booger King, And A Bitch Who Sits In The Rain While Deciding

Hey, McNug here. Things have been mostly uneventful at Golden Arches (if that isn't an oxymoron, I don't know what is)- until the last week. I've had a couple customers who made me want to bang my head against the register til I could no longer remember them. I apologize in advance if it is a little long.

Firstly- Had a customer a couple mornings ago, in drive-thru. I greeted him, and he said he needed to check the menu first. No problem, I got some stuff done while waiting- five minutes later, he says he's ready:

Custy- Okay, I'll have some french toast sticks.

Me- Excuse me, sir?

Custy- I said I'll have some french toast sticks.

For those of you who work at Golden Arches, you know we don't serve those, so I politely told him:

Me- I'm sorry sir, we don't serve those.

Custy- *pause* Oh. Okay, well, then I'll have a croissanwich.

Okay, first time didn't bother me because hell, it happens. Second time would NOT have bothered me if he didn't stare at the menu for FIVE FUCKING MINUTES!

Luckily, this was when we first opened, so he didn't cause a line.

I told him politely but firmly "Sir, this is "McD"s, not "Booger King."

Meanwhile, my manager had a headset on because apparently he likes to listen to my interaction with the freaks I seem to attract (I HEART my managers lol). At that, I hear him howling up front- evidently, my morning cheerfulness gave way to dead pan. The guy ended up thanking me and driving off. We had a chuckle about it with our SM later on ( my managers are friggin AWESOME ).

Secondly- Yesterday, it was pouring bitches out. Since we weren't busy and our windows have an awning, I was having customers drive up to my window to order so they wouldn't get soaked.

This one woman didn't answer my greetings or my offer for her to drive up and order. At first I figured she didn't hear me so I was pretty much shouting over the downpour, to the point that my mod hollered, "Are you sure your headset's working?"

Finally she starts ordering, then stops. I ask her if that was everything:

Custy- Oh, I'm still deciding.

She starts ordering again, then stops. Once again, I ask if that was everything:

Custy- I'm not done yet, I'm still deciding.

Finally, after racking up a $37 order, she's done. I tell her the total, and that I'll see her at the first window. She pulls up looking like a drowned rat. I feel bad for her until she utters these gems-

Custy- *scowl* You need to cover your menu and speaker.

Ok- first of all, I greeted you three times, shouting each time. Second, I offered for you to drive up so you wouldn't get wet. Thirdly, if you have a big order and not sure what you want, COME THE FUCK INSIDE, YOU CRAZY BITCH! IT' S DRY AND YOU CAN TAKE ALL THE FUCKING TIME IN THE WORLD!!

*deep breath, neck crack*

As you can tell, a major pet peeve of mine is when someone either gets a big order in drive thru cuz then they get pissed when we have to park 'em or doesn't answer me with "Just a minute" if they're not sure what they want.

If they don't eat a lot of fast food, that's fine, I'll wait til they decide. At least acknowledge the poor shit working pit. Anyhoot, after that, My mod took over so I could go on break, and you know, stick my head in the fryer.

Side note, thank you to all my regulars for making this not-morning-person happy and cheerful, even at ungodly o'clock in the morning. You guys ROCK!

I've got other stories but those will be next time. Til then, may all your custies have an inkling of a brain cell.

--McNug

Discount Rat In Ice Cream Hell

Well, RHU, I never thought I'd use "Ice Cream" and "Hell" in the same sentence, but I guess there's a first time for everything.

You probably don’t remember me—I went by “RHU Noob” in my previous (and first) post about my bygone days with Anorexic Bagel Lady at Dunk’s. In light of recent events, I think I’d like to change my name to “Dairy Tard.” (I know, “Dairy Fairy” is more cutsey and rhymes, but let’s face it—I’m no dainty maid and there is not enough Red Bull in the world to ever give me wings.) So Dairy Tard I am. And this tard needs a bit of guidance.

I’ve been waitressing and scooping ice cream at Buster’s Clover Street Diner and Ice Cream Bar (name has been heavily reworked, obviously) for three years now. It’s a far cry from being in Retail Hell—as far as dead-end jobs go, I consider myself spoiled rotten to work here. As the name implies, this is an independent, mom-and-pop restaurant with a local, cushy, homey feel to it. It’s old, but reasonably well-kept. The man in charge and the owner is (surprise, surprise) none other than Buster himself, who stays at the diner for the majority of his day, every day, mostly just sitting at the counter and yucking it up with the regulars.

He’s a great guy to work for, I must say; I’d rather have no other boss. In one sentence, Buster is the shining symbol of everything opposite to corporate douchebaggery. He’s fair, considerate, personable in a rough-around-the-edges way, and genuinely gives a damn about who’s working for him and how they’re doing. Oh, yeah, and he possesses a functioning backbone, yet has no qualms about taking orders or even scooping ice creams when we get slammed. It’s just that sometimes, he can be a bit too hands-off for my liking. This incident that happened yesterday really highlighted this.

Okay. So, it’s about 3:00 on a beautiful Friday afternoon, and a 20- or 30-something Indian (this becomes important later) lady talking on an iPhone and toting a boy of about three or four approaches one of the ice cream windows.

Indian Lady: “How much for a small soft serve?”

Me: “$2.41 with the tax.”

(If this seems a little high, just remember that they don’t call us Tax-achusetts for nothing.)

Indian Lady: “So two would be about $4.80?”

Me: “Yup, $4.82.”

Please note that the menu is literally right next to this woman. I don’t get annoyed when I see customers counting their cash when asking about prices—I’d rather tell them up front how much they’d be paying than make them something they don’t even have enough for. However, I see that Indian Lady is holding a credit card.

Indian Lady: “Okay, can I have two small vanilla soft serves in cups, and one with banana and caramel?”

No problem—done in about one minute.

Indian Lady’s adorable little boy: “I wanna drink, I wanna drink!”

*Indian Lady smiles at me in that nice “oh, you know kids” sort of way.*

Indian Lady: “Okay, tell her what you want.”

Little boy: “Apple juice!”

Me: “Sure!”

Two seconds later:

Me: “Okay, that comes to $8.35, please.”

Indian Lady: “That can’t be right.”

Me: “The soft serves are $2.41 apiece, the apple juice was $1.80 plus tax, and the toppings are $0.75 each.”

Indian Lady: “The toppings are $.075 each?”

Yes, ma’am, and it’s clearly written on the board right next to you, so please stop acting like you're surprised.

Me: “Yes.”

Indian Lady: “So you charged me $1.50 just for bananas and caramel?”

Me: “Yes. All toppings are $0.75 each.”

And apparently, those were the words that hit the bitch switch.

Indian Lady: “That’s ridiculous! I am not paying $1.50 for that!”

Me: “You have to pay for it. I just saw you eat some of it.”

Indian Lady: “Take it back, I’m not paying for it!”

Me: “I can’t.”

Indian Lady: “Why are you charging me $1.50 for toppings? That's ridiculous! At the other ice cream places, they charge me $.75 and they give me bananas and caramel! I get all the toppings for $.75!”

BULL TO THE FUCKING SHIT, LADY. At that comment, I actually had to put in a conscious effort to refrain from smiling. Unfortunately, I’m not exactly articulate when you stick a hostile person in front of me.

Me: “Well, we charge per topping here.”

Indian Lady: “Well, that’s insane. I don’t want this at all if you’re going to charge me $1.50 for toppings.”

Me: “I’m sorry. I don’t set the prices. You still have to pay for it.”

Indian Lady: “I can go to another ice cream place right now and they’ll give me bananas and caramel for $0.75!”

Me: “You can do that, but you’ll still have to pay for this.”

Indian Lady (giving up): “I’m going to another ice cream place. I don’t want any of this.”

*Puts all three items back on inside counter.* At this point, her little boy grabs for his ice cream and begins to cry.

Me: “Okay.”

Indian Lady: “I’m really going to another ice cream place.”

Me: “Okay.”

IL *sarcastically*: “Great customer service!”

Me: “Have a nice day.” *Closes window.*

So, I hurry over to Buster at the counter and tell him what happened. His first question: “Was she Indian?”

Me *lights up*: “Yes! Did you see her?”

Buster: “No. That’s very typical of the Indians.”

And he proceeds to matter-of-factly explain to me that Indians, in general, tend to be cheapskates and will not hesitate to haggle with you. That was the point of his talk. Not a single question was raised about the woman or the incident in general. So, I mean, I suppose I shouldn’t really care if my boss doesn’t care…but still.

I’m very glad that this cheap bitch decided to pick a fight with me. Buster has hired a lot of new kids for the summer (15- or 16-year-olds, mostly) and for many of them, this is their first job…let alone their first job dealing with the public. I’m almost certain that most of them would have caved to the demands of this greedy bloodsucker out of pure fright, and that really bothers me. I’d love to tell them how to handle this sort of thing (especially seeing as where it’s a problem our boss tends to ignore, as it is fortunately uncommon), but I feel I can’t do this adequately if I don’t really know myself.

That’s why I’ve come to you awesome lot of tried, seasoned, thick-skinned bastards for help. I was not trying to be rude to this woman, but I wanted to let her know who was in charge and that I would not lower the price for her. What would you do in my place? What did I do well and poorly? And, just for the hell of it, what kind of ice cream do you like?

--Dairy Tard

Bitch Throws A Tantrum Over A $0.05 Bag

Hi, RHU! It's been a long time, it's me, the Loser. I know it's been about two years probably, since the last time I submitted anything. Everything that was keeping me from posting is resolved. My stalker has been arrested and is getting help - which was the most important thing to me. No point in him sittin' twiddlin' his thumbs only to get back out without any help!

Now, I've been meaning to return for a while, but even when I find things worthy of the RHU community, I was finding myself too tired to post any of it. I'd get home from work, and I would just curl up and sleep. I still do, but today is a start.

Anyhow, my real post is about plastic bags. Here in Canada, we've been encouraging customers to leave without plastic bags. In Ontario, you have options, but many companies have started to charge five cents, and most of them are donating this money to charity. My company has their head office in Ontario, so it only make sense that they just start charging before it because the law in all the provinces. It's been this way for over a year now.

Of course the company is also all about bending over backwards for dipshits who get angry. This means, for us lowly slaves, is that if someone bitches, we're allowed to give them a plastic bag for free. This has happened in the past, and then we all share the description of the person, and when they return to bitch again - we tell them that the last time was a one time deal, and they knew that we were going to charge this time.

Too bad, jackass. We're not stupid, we know that you want a free bag. It's not even the 5 cents I care about. It's the fact that you are so desperate to weasel out of it. I don't charge little kids. I don't charge people for extra bags if they're getting a huge tower of books. I don't charge regular customers who usually bring their own bags.

Oh, yeah! I was going to tell a specific story. I got lost on that tangent. So, enter Snobby, as we'll call her. Snobby puts down three shiny new hardcover books. I ask her politely if she needs a bag and she just starts glaring at me. Uh oh, something is wrong here. I get on my best customer service face (knit brows, puppy dog eyes and a slight frown - if it keeps people from yelling at me, I can look like one abused pet!)

"You know, I understand this BULLSHIT at the grocery store, but books are a LUXURY item. I won't be charged for a DAMN bag!"

I open my mouth to speak, a little shocked at her sudden yelling in the middle of her sentences. My coworker Professor pipes up, "Well, we charge because we're trying to encourage people to -" Completely cut off.

"No! I don't want to hear these damn explanations. I don't need to buy books from you. I could bring my business to a company that cares about me and what I think. I'm not buying any of these and I'll be emailing your company tonight to complain about you." And then she stormed off.

She didn't even let us explain that we would give her one of our bags for FREE just for being an asshole. Now, I might be safe, if she complains about us, because I lost my nametag, but Professor just got hers recently. I am also the only one with short black hair, so who knows.

I'm heading to school in three months or so. Hopefully I can wait it out and not spend all my energy panicking that this angry bitch is gonna come after me and get me fired.

I feel so much better - thanks for listening. :)

Until next time Love,

--The Loser

A Twofer About Entitled Bitches Being Sarcastic And A Delusional Hag

Hi, RHU! I've been reading the stories for many months now but, due to pure magical luck, I've never had anything to post. I was going for a three year 'no retail horror stories' streak up until a few weeks ago, and then again yesterday. I don't have a name, and I don't think I'll bother coining one, because apart from these two incidents the only real crusties we get are a few native thieves and druggies.

I work in a smallish retail store. It's a huge company, but my particular store is a fairly decent sized shop in a mall. We get incredibly busy during peak times, i.e. Thursday nights and weekends, and normally we'd have four people on. However, the state manager decided a few months back that our hours would be cut way back, and now on a Thursday night we only have two people on.

The particular Thursday night when this first story occurred it was myself and the assistant manager. She was chained to the front of the store greeting people and doing bag checks, so I was left to run the tills and the changerooms. I'd been at the till for about 20 minutes due to there being a big line. There was also a line at the changerooms, but I knew that three of the five changerooms were unlocked so I wasn't paying much attention to it.

When I got to a couple of middle aged ladies in my line, they not so kindly asked if I would open up another changeroom. I was a bit annoyed that they were wasting my time because they couldn't be bothered waiting, but I happily agreed and walked over. I unlocked the fourth room, the fifth being full of stock due to our tiny backroom already being full, and noticed that the line at tills was huge again, so I quickly turned to go back to it. That's when the issue started.

"God, the service here is just SO great!"

"I know! The workers here are just SO attentive!"

The two women proceeded to mock me, as if I had purposefully created a huge mob of people to create lines within the store and made them wait. Then, laughing, they dumped their clothes and left the store. These women had nothing better to do with their time than dragging the overworked sales girl behind the till from her job, mock her, and then walk out. I was confused, but the incident didn't affect me and I went back to work.

This next one happened only yesterday. Again there were two people on but it was a Tuesday afternoon and we were really quiet. I was down the front unpacking stock when a middle aged lady and what I'm assuming was her elderly mother walked in.

"Do you have any more of that leather jacket?"

The jacket in question sells like hot cakes and is actually pleather, so it's quite cheap. We only had two left and they were both on mannequins.

"No, sorry. Those are the only two left."

"Oh, do you have any smalls?"

I checked the closest mannequin; it was a large. The mannequin in the window was wearing a medium.

"We've only got a large and a medium, sorry."

"Can I try the medium?"

"Yeah, sure." I turned and walked towards the mannequin. Just as I had reached the mannequin and was figuring out the best way to take the jacket off, the woman started screaming at me.

"Well, F*** YOU TOO! I can't BELIEVE you'd have such BAD ATTITUDE!!"

This woman was full on screaming, at the top of the lungs, for reasons I didn't understand. Due to some stuff in my past I can't handle being yelled at and I was already nearly in tears.

"I don't know what I've done..."

"What did you say to me as you were at the mannequin?!!"

"I... I didn't say anything."

"Oh, SURE!"

She continued to rant about how rude I was and demanding to speak to a manager and how this was my job and I shouldn't say such bad things about having to do my job until the other girl working came over and I escaped to the back room. I still have no idea what made her start yelling.

She was accusing me of saying something to her, but I was several meters away and facing away from her, and our music is really loud, so even if I had muttered something there's no way she could have seen or heard it. That really shook me up and I couldn't leave the back room until she'd left the store.

She didn't even end up buying the jacket.

That's all for now, and hopefully forever. But I don't think I'd be so lucky as to go another almost three years without crazy custies.

--RHUer

Snob And Stuckup Get Told By Gay Gym Buddy Of Karebear's

So I joined the gym. I realized that after joining the ranks in an office setting I'm not getting the exercise I normally got while working in a store. Friends were talking about bikinis and I just thought to myself, "Well, shit..." So I joined a gym!

However, I know myself. I needed a gym buddy. I could go with Tank, but he's a little crazy about his workout and yeah...recipe for trouble. So I talked my friend into coming with me. I'll call him Pepper cause he likes pepper and I am not feeling creative.

Now, a little back story about Pepper. Pepper is a fairly attractive male. He was fairly popular with the ladies in high school and college. He's gay though. Very proud to be gay. But you won't know he was from talking to him or even looking at him. And it's not like he blurts it out when you first meet him.

I mean, in the past, I had ex boyfriends get jealous about me hanging out with Pepper until I would say, "You do know he's gay...right?"

Anyways! Pepper and I have been hitting the gym twice a week for a few weeks now. There are two girls in their late teens, maybe early 20s (though I doubt it) that are ALWAYS there...ALWAYS! I'll call them Snob and StuckUp. They are your normal boy crazy college kids, and have made it known they have taken a fancy to Pepper. However, they are the biggest, snobbiest, stuck up bitches that I have witnessed to date.

For example, there was another girl who would be there. Snob and StuckUp liked to pick on her for being chubby. Now, this girl never actually heard them say anything about her because she worked out with headphones on.

So I told Snob and StuckUp, "Well, she's at a gym, at least she is doing something about it."

I only got a middle finger in response and they called me names. No biggie, whatever, right?

There's also another guy who comes to the gym. I'm 99% certain he's gay too...since he wears a shirt that says HEY GUESS WHAT...I'M GAY. KISS MY ASS IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT. So...yeah, okay I know he's gay for reals...he and Pepper have exchanged phone numbers!

I'll just call him BlueEyes cause he has some sparkling blue eyes and, again, not feeling creative.

So, Pepper and I were at the gym today. As usual, Snob and StuckUp were there doing whatever the fuck they were doing while making googly eyes at Pepper, glaring at me, and talking shit about BlueEyes. They must have been feeling super confident today because they came up to Pepper while we were getting our work out shoes on in the lobby and the following convo happened.

Snob: Hey hot stuff, how about you ditch ugly here and come hang out with us?

StuckUp: Yeah...we'll show you a good time.

Pepper: No thanks girls.

Snob: Why not? I bet we are way better in bed than that freak ever is..(pointing to me.)

Pepper: I wouldn't know. She's not my girlfriend.

(At this point, BlueEyes was standing at the desk, and we heard him snicker.)

StuckUp: What you laughing about, fag?

BlueEyes: Nothing... just know that you two are wasting your time.

Snob: Oh, does little pussy boy have a wittle crush on my future fuck buddy? Freak. (Yeah...she really said that. So classy!)

Pepper: I don't know who your future fuck buddy is because it's obviously not me. Besides, I have a crush on HIM. By the way, you should really stop with the hateful crap that comes out of your mouths. It makes you look ugly...well, uglier...

And with that Pepper took off into the gym with me following behind on trying not to fall on the floor from laughing. Their shocked faces were too priceless.

--Karebear

A Power Outage Brings A Crusty To The Mall

In September, we experienced the opposite of productive. Earlier in the morning, the power at work went out. Not to just us, but about 95% of the town I work in. (We first thought it was just us at first, but we have 4 other stores in our strip and none of them had power.) I was standing outside like a derp smoking a cig with the girls from the hair salon next to us. Tank was on the phone trying to get a hold of the power peoples, as well as the worker at the sandwich shop that's on the end of our strip. (4th store has no one in it because the old clothing store went out of business from lack of business.)

Apparently half the town was on the phone with the power peoples as well because Tank was on hold for the longest. But the sandwich shop worker (SS from here on out) managed to talk to a human being. Apparently there was a car crash somewhere in the town with a semi involved. Semi managed to roll over and pull down a power line or something in the process. (Not really sure, I didn't follow the convo too well because one of the hair salon girls was showing off pictures of her baby.) But it was going to be a 2+ hour process to get the power back.

Since our store is on the corner, we have a lot of windows that gives natural light. So we were able to do some basic file work until we realized half the files still needed to be printed. We were done in about 20 minutes with that and sat and twiddled our thumbs. We decided to sit outside and people/car watch for something to do.

Hair salon must of had appointments during the day, but with no power they can't really do much. Cut hair, sure, if you don't mind it being in the dark. But you surely can't get it styled and blow dried without power. And since there was no power, the girls couldn't get the phone numbers off the computer to call the appointments to call.

Most of the women were understanding; they didn't have power at their house either, but just came to see just in case. One woman though was flipping shit over it. Apparently her hair HAD to be done RIGHT THEN AND THERE. One of the girls offered to cut it, in the dark. (They only have one window, not as bright.) But the lady wasn't having it and threatened to never come back there again.

Hair salon girl whispered to me saying 'Thank heavens. She doesn't even tip and bitches about everything.'

SS came out around 10:30am saying he was worried about his food going bad. (Lots of deli meat and such.) By then the power had already been out for about a hour. He offered us free sandwiches and drinks and chips and...basically free lunch. He said he couldn't open properly without power. Plus, him and Tank go way back. Guess Tank hooked him up with a major discount on an alarm system. (Tank gets a lot of free/discounted sammichs.)

So we all had a picnic outside on SS's patio. Afterwards, Tank called the power people and was told it could take up to another 2 hours. By then we were all like screw it, let's just take the day off now. ...Even though both Tank and I are taking the day off tomorrow to go car shopping.

Even though it was a bad day for working, it was still fun shooting the shit with the others. And that lady had us cracking up for awhile after she left. 

--<3Karebear

Sales Agent Guy: Entitled Bitch Demands Service

Yes, it's Sales Agent Guy once again. I haven't been working much, so most of my things would be ranting and other things like that. In fact, I regret to say that most of the memorable stuff happened a decade ago back when I was younger. So I've decided to go back in time a little bitty bit to 2002.

-------------------------

RETAIL CASE #218

THE DATE: February 8th, 2002 (I think, I can't quite be sure.)

PERSONS INVOLVED: Young Couple (Young Gentleman and Young Lady,) Bagel Bitch (you'll learn why soon after,) Random Mother and her Children.

SITUATION:

It was just another afternoon at the store. I was working the register with my fellow agents (OK, co-workers, but you get the idea!) and things were going fairly calmly for the day. I was doing great since I'd just gotten my first tax refund, and it was quite a chunk of dough from Uncle Sam! I felt like nothing could kill my good mood. So when Young Couple came to the register, this is what happened:

Sales Agent Guy: Hello, how are you?

Young Lady: Good.

Young Gentleman: Hey, could you open the shaving display for us? There's a razor I'd like to get.

Sales Agent Guy: Certainly, right this way.

(As I was passing by the photo drop-off booth, which has a sign saying that you have to wait in line to pick up your photos, a woman in a uniform for the nearby bagel shop calls me by my name.)

Bagel Bitch: Hey, Agent! Can I please have my pictures?

Sales Agent Guy: Sorry, but you have to wait in line.

Bagel Bitch: Oh, come on!

(I heard her calling to the next cashier to hand her the photos. I doubted that she wanted to steal them, she probably just wanted to see them without having to wait in line. Nevertheless, I brushed it off and went to get the shaver for Young Lady and Young Gentleman. I get back to the register and process the transaction.)

Sales Agent Guy: Thank you very much, have a good evening.

Young Lady: You too!

(As soon as they're gone, a woman in her thirties or forties, Random Mother, comes up with her two children, most likely about 7-8.)

Sales Agent Guy: Good even-

(Suddenly Bagel Bitch cuts in front of them.)

Bagel Bitch: Excuse me please. <to me> Hey, what's the big idea brushing me off like that?

Sales Agent Guy: Ma'am, it's stated that you have to wait in line for your pictures.

Bagel Bitch <now starting to get angry>: What are you talking about? Are you s***ing me?! <she hurls a few curse words at me before Random Mother tells her to shut up, only to have Bagel Bitch tell HER to shut up. Now she's really mad.> WHAT THE F*** IS YOUR PROBLEM, YOU <n-word>?!

(From that point on, for the next couple of minutes, she lays into me using every swear word she can think of, and yes she dropped the n-bomb several times, even though I'm Caucasian. I attempt to calm her down or tell her to stop, but she's not having it. At one point she even drops this lovely gem.)

Bagel Bitch: I'm more American than your f***ing ass!

(This comment most likely stemmed from the fact she was Hispanic.)

In the end, by the time my manager got up there, the bitch was long gone. I had kept a calm poker face the whole time, and gently reassured the children that she wouldn't be coming back. To this day, I have no idea what her problem was, unless she was either drunk or trying to pick a fight. And to think, that's the worst customer encounter I've ever had in my life time. At least off the top of my head.

That's all for this report.

--Sales Agent Guy

Overly Makeuped Bitch Creates Toxic Environment For Canadia

Hello Everyone!

It's Canadia, eh. Long time no see it's been... ages... yes ages. ANYWHO, the coffee shop I mentioned in my previous post has another story I would love to share with you all. With the first post in mind about my temperament here's the next segment of coffee shop hell.

For those of you that didn't catch the first post; I'm quiet and avoid confrontation as much as possible. 

They hired a new girl who I will call; Playboy. Makeup caked on her face, blonde hair and as nice as an angry scorpion. Since day one she specifically targeted me and went out of her way to belittle me. One day I went on break and her and Blondie were in there (guy from previous post). The two people I couldn't stand sitting in the break room. There is room for 3 people in the breakroom at once and she said to me;

"Oh look there's no room, you can always sit on the toilet." and they both laughed at me. So before I purchased anything I went to my supervisor and asked her if I could go on break when Playboy and Blondie are done, as we don't get along at all.

She said no so I stood up in the production area for my break. Supervisor (let's call her Preggers) saw me and said I'd have to move into the breakroom. I asked her if there's anywhere else I could go, and she let me eat in the dining room.

Another time I was making a Sandwich for a customer. Now because I had to go and get a lot of stuff from the back and I wasn't really trained on sandwich counter the poor guy had been waiting about 5 minutes for it and I apologized for it.

He said "No problem."

Then Playboy comes over from Drive Thru looks at the screen and said; "Why has this customer been waiting so long?"

I had everything under control and said with all honesty, "You just worry about you."

She didn't like that and stormed off saying, "Wow you're an ignorant bitch."

About a week later Playboy was asked to sweep the floors. Now whenever I was told to sweep the rule was if you started it you had to finish it. So she starts it gets bored of it and stops and then asks me to do it.

I start doing it just to save the sake of arguing and she starts making snide comments about me while I'm well within earshot. So like the quiet person I am that avoids confrontation, I snapped at her.

No one had heard me snap like that; I was yelling and didn't care who heard it. Because it was so long ago I can't remember exactly what was said or I would have gladly posted it. Since then no one gave me trouble and Playboy mysteriously disappeared. That is until Preggers got on my case, but that's a whole new story...

--Canadia

Mollywobbles Is On The Brink Of Walking Out Of McHell Thanks To Douchebag Coworkers

Mollywobbles here again, updating you all (kinda) on my Hellmart/McHell's story.

Friday… well, Friday sucked ass. I was scheduled to work at 6am. I left a little later than I'd meant to (Molly is *not* a morning person), and I rolled into the parking lot at 5:59. Got out of the car just as the clock changed to 6. No time to put my hat on, oh well, I'll put it on after I clock in, I've done it a million times and so has everybody else. Walked up to the counter to clock in, the register said 6:00:43.

My manager, formerly Preggers (she has since had her baby, so for her attitude she shall henceforth be known as "Princess"), sees me about to clock in and fucking rounds on me.

She starts barking at me. "NO. No, no, no, Molly, don't you clock in until you've got your hat on. I'm sick and tired of people clocking in when they're not ready, and I'm sick and tired of people being late."

Um…excuse the fuck out of me, Princess? Just because I didn't walk in tbe door at 5:59 I'm fucking late? That's not how it fucking works, cunt. So, I put my hat on without a word and clock in. At that point, the clock said 6:00:54. HA, BITCH, the click still counts that as 6.

Then I notice something weird. My clock-in slip prints out my times from yesterday as well as today. I show this to Princess (half to show her that something was up, half to passive-aggressively rub it in her face that the computer said I was on time when she had yelled at me for being "late").

Apparently, she'd been on the phone with the computer company all morning - our system had been messing up, and my slip just proved that the problem hadn't been resolved. So now, I have to count on Princess to manually fix my time (along with everyone's who had opened) in the computer. Wonderful. I don't trust that she didn't put me down as late - even though it was only a minute, it's the principal of the matter.

A few minutes later, when Princess is in the back messing around on the computer, one of my coworkers, Awesome Biscuit Lady, cones up to get something to drink and asks me what was up Princess's butt. ABL works in the back of the store making biscuits - further back than the office but a little closer than the back drive-thru. SHE had fucking heard Princess go off on me.

I told her, "Princess has no idea how lucky she is I didn't turn right around and walk back out the fucking door."

About five minutes after this exchange, my father-in-law came through the drive-thru for his morning coffee, and I told him what happened (minus the swearing) and said, "Take me with you."

My in-laws know how shitty my work environment is and have asked me to tell them which people are giving me the hardest time so they can bitch them out on my behalf (my in-laws are the greatest), and have even gone so far as to tell people not to eat at my McHell's because of it (again, the greatest :3). I went home and broke down crying to my husband over the way these people feel they can treat me. I know dogs that are spoken to in a more human manner.

Now tonight, the schedule for Sunday and Monday came out. Today was my day off, and I had a migraine for nine hours, so I didn't call or stop in to find out when I work next. Never fear, though, because I got a phone call from Princess very shortly after I woke up today asking me if I could work a later shift than I'd been scheduled. I said sure, and hung up. 12 hours later (about 10:30 tonight), I get another phone call from New Manager, asking me if I could come in an hour earlier than they'd previously asked me to. I mentally banged my head against the nearest wall and agreed. ARGHLFLARG MAKE UP YOUR DAMN MINDS.

I'm ready to put in my week's notice, job at Hellmart or no. I just can't take this anymore.

Oh, and about the Hellmart job. I think I did okay at the interview, and I was told that I should call if I didn't hear anything by Friday. Friday came, I didn't hear back, I called.

I asked for my interviewer personally and was told, "Well, they're doing orientation today, but I can have her call you back when they're done."

I left my name and number. Didn't get a call. I'm planning on calling back on Monday. I NEED to get out of McHell.

May your managers treat you like a human being,

--Mollywobbles

Two Bitches Give Womens Retail Slave A Hard Time

Hi again, Womens Retail Slave here with a fun crusty tantrum that I thought was very funny and a recent issue made me think about it again.

So last weekend I had a crustomer go full on bat-shit crazy on me because she couldn't load her email on her phone, which of course was my fault. I think the exact quote was. "I never get service in here because of you."

Although I am a little on the husky side, I did not know that I was able to interfere with wi-fi signal. Anyway, enough about that life drainer. This was what reminded me of a crusty of yesteryear.

She was upset about something I couldn't do for her. Don't remember specifics but I think it had to do with something I wouldn't return for her. Either could not(would not) return the item or could not(would not) give her cash back.

Doesn't matter; all I remember is she did all sorts of tactics. The usual yelling, "I can't believe this. Its so unfair" to lies "The other store did it the other day" to threats "I'm never shopping here again" to the top "I want to talk to your manager."

I politely responded that "I" was the manager, and that this was the policy, and that we could/would not do her return. Here is where things got funny.

She left the store. Got mall security, who she told the whole story to, and then went to the mall manager's office. She wanted the mall manager to override my policy and return her things.

In her mind she thought that she could get the mall police to force me to return the items. And then when that didn't work out, since we were part of the mall and that the mall had a manager then I technically worked for the mall, was her logic. The mall manager called me, asked about the situation. I informed them of the policies and specifically about her issue, and I have never heard from them again.

Getting ready here at my store for Mom's Day. Shoot me now! It will all be a blur until Memorial Day.

--Womens Retail Slave

Cree Speaking Hags Get Told, And Screaming Off Key Gives An Update On Grabby McPervert

Hello! It's Screaming Off Key. I went to my store manager and my DM. The result was quick: Grabby McPervert lost his status as a manager and was put on probation.

He proceeded to launch several complaints against me, claiming I wasn't doing my job, leaving things undone and other such things. So in order to investigate the claims the DM looked through our camera footage and found that he couldn't be seen in the store at all during times he was scheduled during the same hours as me. People started complaining that he was lazy, wasn't doing anything etc, and he was fired. I've been promoted to crew trainer, and my pay was raised .75 cents woop woop!

Now for a bit of a story. I work in a town that's further north. We get a lot of the natives from reserves who come through, and let me put out there that I'm a LOT more than half blood first nations. My great grandmother could only speak my language, Cree. I can understand it completely and almost speak it fluently.

Now. I shall start the story.

An older woman came through with what I'll assume was her daughter. I'm put on counter a lot because people describe me as bouncy, bubbly and extremely polite. I was being my usual polite self and helped the customer to figure out our menu. After ten minutes of struggle, we didn't manage to get something down. They asked me to give them a minute, and I did so.

And what does she do? She proceeds to speak in Cree to the younger woman saying "I am so tired of little white bitches like this one."

WHAT. THE. FUCK!?!?

I proceeded to then and there cancel the order, and ask them to leave. The younger one proceeded to accuse me of discrimination and asked for a manager. I calmly called my favourite manager, who I'll call Fairy Bottom.

Fairy Bottom: Hello ma'am. What's the problem today.

Younger Cree Lady: Your employee refuses to serve us because we are Cree.

Fairy Bottom: And what brings you to that conclusion ma'am?

Younger Cree Lady: She was being rude to us when we got in and when we started talking to each other in Cree, she refused to serve us.

Fairy Bottom: (Turned to me now) Is this true Screaming Off Key?

Me: No, when they first came in I helped them as much as possible and explained the menu items. I did not refuse to serve them until the older one called me a bitch in Cree.

At this point both women became red in the face and started spluttering.

Older Cree Lady: And how would YOU know what I said?

Which is when I replied "Tansikatintin." (Translation: What do you think?)

After that, they spluttered some more and left of their own accord, while Fairy Bottom sent me on a fifteen.

People irk me.

--Screaming Off Key

APRIL SHOWERS BRING MAY FLOWERS AND ANNOYING CUSTYS

the squeaky wheel may get the grease, but this whiny custy gets on my damn nerves      

Benjamin Kissell
 

 

It isn't very easy being the cheerful and upbeat face of a company [copious amounts of coffee are needed], especially one whose idea of 'haute couture' rooms is the equivalent of "Now with FREE color tv" [how vintage 1960s hotel can you get?] but thankfully, sometimes I can actually achieve it.

 

This morning, however, I may not be able to accomplish it ... despite a mug of coffee large enough I could reenact Hot Tub Time Machine in it.

 

So, of course when I have the least capability to deal with stressful or bitch-tastic custys is when the queen harpy of custys decides to descend upon me.

 

Let's call her Hunga Queen of the Harpy Custys of Talon Mountain [if you get this reference I heart you], or just Annoying Harpy Custy for short. Reeking of desperation, weasel-ness and all-things skeevy she waddles towards me; her mottled feathers [cheap dye job and possibly cheaper weave] wavering as she approaches my desk. To wit, my snarky tongue almost got the better of me whilst dealing with her.

Almost. Well, sort of.

....................................................................

Annoying Harpy Custy: *flapping up to the counter* "Hey, is there anything in your log book about my room from the storms last night?"
[referencing the tornado which touched down in the area and massive thunderstorms - this Custy also has a history of false or over-stated complaints, rude remarks to staff and in general a distinct lack of control of her sticky, stinky, mildly-destructive, LOUD children] 

 

Me: "Yes ..." *looking in logbook* "It says that you developed a leak in your room during the intense part of the storms and that you didn't want to move rooms, is that correct?" 

 

Annoying Harpy Custy: *haughty look* "Well, I didn't want to as you don't have anything available on the ground floor! What am I supposed to do, carry my luggage upstairs?" *punctuating this with a hoot and a slap on the desk's counter-top*
[This is true; ground-floor SMOKING with 2 Double-beds and a pull-out couch? We only have 2 of those specific type of rooms - one of which she is in (and likely destroying).] 

 

Me: "My apologies, we may have one open today after 3pm, if you want to switch."
At this she gets a very smug and self-satisfied, cat-that-ate-the-canary (or the custy-who-thinks-she-got-one-over-on-the-company) look 

 

Annoying Harpy Custy: "Good." [smug, oh how smug she be] "Now, what time does Erwin come in?" [our relatively laid back AGM] 

 

Me: "He's not really due in today, but, if he does come in it won't be until about 3pm - what can we do for you?" [smile, Benjamin; don't show teeth. Don't show your annoyance with her ... oh my gawdd, what the sweet Retail Hell is her buzz-cut-sporting, sticky child named CHUNK climbing on?! KID THAT IS A DESKTOP COMPUTER! DO NOT CLIMB ON TOP OF THAT PRINTER! Yeah, great parenting you got going on, harpy.] "Young man, please don't climb on that." I say in a sickeningly sweet voice - if she's not gonna parent, one of us hasta. 

 

Annoying Harpy Custy: "Well, you see," she's obviously building up to something here, as she waddles and folds her wings - I mean her arms - under and cranes up her neck. "My phone got damaged last night by the rain." At this she proudly flops down her cracked-screen touch-screen phone, open and the battery removed, on my counter. "What'chu gonna do for me about this?" 

 

Me: *quirked eyebrow* [I can still do it, despite the knock-off botox] "Honestly ma'am, I don't think we can do very much of anything, if at all. You chose not to leave the room, despite your predicament; from how I understand it, I do not believe we're responsible for -"

 

Annoying Harpy Custy: "What do you mean!?!" she interrupts in an inhuman howl, calling the other guano-streaked denizens of Talon Mountain, her flitting and loudly-chirping offspring, to flock to her side. "Just because I chose not to leave - I can't lift heavy objects! - why should I be punished for this? Why are you blaming me?" Her rant is all over the board in its stream-of-consciousness-ness. "The phone company won't replace my phone for water damage!" [Now wait just a nit-picking minute here, 'Mother of the Year', I've had 3 - count 'em 3! - phones replaced by her same carrier for water damage ... I call shenanigans on this.]

 

Me: *dialing my GM's cell phone* "Let me ask my General Manager, then. By the way, did you try the dry rice trick? I know that I've saved 2 phones from water damage with that little home-remedy." [What can I say? I have a nasty habit of damaging phones - rarely does one last more than a year with me.] To which she replies that 'yes, she tried it and it didn't work!' [Of this I doubt, as the dry rice trick takes more than a few minutes to make any impact.] I quickly outline the situation to my GM over the phone and he reitterates the conclusion I came to, backed up by our corporate policy - We offered to move her, an employee had even offered to help physically [he be the strong bitch on-staff, all Schwarzenegger'd and shit], and she had refused. As it stands, it's out of our level's hands on what we could do for her.

To say that she didn't like this is akin to describing a volcanic eruption as 'a polite burp'.

 

Annoying [now Angry] Harpy Custy: >string of expletives even I find too tacky to commit to screen - thankfully, absolutely no poo is flung<

 

Me: "Ma'am; I promise that I'll ask Erwin if he comes in and I'll double check with the GM, as I know how not fun this is, but it's really sounding like something we can't help you with. I'm so sorry," [And I genuinely am; I loathe being without my left eye, I mean cell phone ... it's kinda essential to me. I've been known to go into a shock-like coma-esque quiet state when I don't have one ... some would say me being quiet like that isn't a bad thing.]

"If there's anything else I can do to help, I shall - I'm really terribly sorry." 

 

Annoying [still Angry] Harpy Custy: "Well," her clawed wing scraping the desk, "when Erwin or your GM gets in have them call me!" She turns her tail feathers, ruffled, and raises her wings to flap away when I can't help but ask - my curiosity picqued by her custy avian display ...

 

Me: "Just a quick question, if the window was leaking in the far corner of the room, how did your phone get damaged by it?"

 

Annoying [now Sputtering] Harpy Custy: *incoherent mutter* "Uhm" *incoherent mutter*          >shifty eyes back and forth<      She finishes turning back towards the door and tosses off a half-hearted "It just did" before darkening the skies of my lobby no more.

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