Retail Hell Underground

Custy Wants Her Smokes, But Doesn't Know Which Box Is The One

I had a woman come into the store the other night and wanted a brand of cigarettes that I rarely sell. They’re gaining popularity in the area, but the problem is the whole issue of how strong they are.

Back story for those of you lucky enough to not understand cigarettes: They are no longer called ‘Full Flavor’ ‘Light’ ‘Medium’ or ‘Ultra-Light’. They now are called by the color of the carton. Example: Grand Prix Ultra-Light come in an orange package, and as such, are called ‘Grand Prix Orange’.

Problem with the brand she wanted was, we hardly sold them before this change happened. We don’t know which color is the full flavor, which is what she wanted. She wanted full flavor. I asked her if she knew the color to get, and she didn’t.

I showed her several packages that could have been the full flavor and she said no to each of them, it couldn’t be what she was looking for.

She finally gets pissed and starts screaming about how she hates that we don’t just call them full flavors and the like anymore, personally blaming the store for this change. I tried to explain to her that it’s an across the board thing. Our store did not make the change to it, and unfortunately, it would be like this anywhere else.

I mentioned that I had been told that it was a government thing, and when I said that, she just stopped and stared at me as though she weren’t sure if she should run or not.

Cunt: And was this the time they put the receivers in your teeth?

Terah: …what?

Cunt: *Scoffs* Do you take medication?

Terah: Uh… no?

Cunt: Well you NEED to!

I quickly realized this bitch thought I was actually insane! I just smiled and sold her the ones I knew for a fact to be the Ultra-Light and told her to have a wonderful evening.

Chatty, my new coworker, looked at me when the door closed, having heard the entire exchange. I just looked down at my register.

Terah: Oh. Dear. I believe I have given that upstanding and WONDERFUL person the wrong cigarettes. And look. I’ve “forgotten” to give her a receipt. Now she’ll be unable to exchange them for the correct item. I guess I should go take my meds.

--Terah The Gas Slave

Sushi Bitch Goes Crazy Lady Over Combo Alterations

Hey there, Screaming Off Key here. I can't believe how annoyed I am! Two reasons, one more trivial than the other. The one reason is just that it seems I work on all the busiest days with all the people with terrible crotch fruit that leave huge HUGE messes and no tips.

I ask the other good waitress, and she tells me it's always dead on her shift and same with Kawaii-chan. (I walk in, and her usual complaint is "It's dead AAAAAAALLLL day!") But it seems like I go to the restaurant and the entire town seems to drop in. But at the same time we're making money and I'm quick enough that I can handle it without getting nervous so it's alright, just wish they'd tip more.

However, today I had an experience with a crusty bitch (why do my stories all involve sushi suddenly?) who wanted to put together her own sushi roll combination to save money. For a little explanation, we've got to roll combinations Combo A will have chicken roll, veggie roll and a dynamic roll. Combo B will have all that but also California rolls.

Enter Sushi Bitch, the first thing she asked for as Chinese plate A (Rice, chicken balls and stir fry) but instead of chicken balls she wanted a type of roll called Crunch Gogo, which is more expensive than the plate altogether. Upon finding out she could not do that, she tried to get the roll combo a with crunch gogo in place of chicken rolls, and California roll in place of dynamic rolls claiming Kawaii-chan had let her do it before.

So I asked Kawaii-chan as I was not as versed in the switching rules for sushi. Kawaii-chan explained to me that the combos are only to be sold as they are written on the menu, no changes or alterations whatsoever and if Sushi Bitch wanted to have Crunch Gogo and California rolls she had to order them as is.

After relaying the information to Sushi Bitch, she went positively ballistic! She stated several times how stupid it was that she could not make the switches, that sushi was sushi etc, etc. She tried time and time again to get me to change it, but although I'm a manager I'm still an employee beneath Kawaii-chan who owns the restaurant.

Sushi Bitch got more and more upset and finally she asked to speak with Kawaii-chan and when I ran to let Kawaii-chan know she simply told me she could hear the woman yelling from the kitchen and she didn't appreciate her choice of words (she used several racial slurs) and that I was to escort her out.

Later, Sushi Bitch's husband who had been standing quietly the whole time Sushi Bitch was yelling and shyly made his order of Combo B, Crunch Gogo for take out. I guess she really wanted her sushi. (Insert eye roll)

May you meet no Sushi Bitches.

--Screaming Off Key

Slave With No Name Shares Two Bitch Stories And Ends On An Awesome Custy

Hey everyone, Slave with No Name here again with a couple of stories.

I wanted to start out with 2 not so nice stories. It pissed me off to no end, and I need to vent about it...

First a little background; I have a cashier at my job who is a foreigner, which I have no problem with. (I'm pretty much one of the few people that I know that isn't a racist asshole, and I really do accept all kinds of people. It's just my nature I guess.) Anyway, this cashier who I'll call K, is Indian and an older woman. She has a bit of an accent and as much as I hate to say it, sometimes I have a little trouble understanding her but eventually I do get it. She is so sweet and she is hysterical and probably makes me laugh the most out of anyone I work with.

Anyway, we have this regular who is a little weird. She doesn't like any female workers, only a couple of the male workers. That's fine with me, she's annoying so I really don't want to stand there and talk about her stupid BS, She's a crazy lotto/scratch off lady who has a bit of an attitude, but I just ignore her rudeness.

A couple of days ago she is telling one of my co workers about K, who was "rude" to her on self check and "she smelled so bad, someone needs to tell her to take a shower."

My jaw dropped to the floor. I was so fucking pissed. This customer then proceeds to ask my co worker to inform my manager of what she said. My coworker who was clearly pissed off said no, and if she wanted the manager to know, then she can tell him herself. She agreed and told my manager who just looked at her like she was nuts (because she is!) and just said yeah okay. We never told K.

Today, one of the self entitled soccer moms came in asking about a product that we have, but couldn't find because "we always move it on her."

Yeah lady, we know you like it so much that we purposely move it... (it's something an outside vendor brings in and would be the only person who can move it). I called my assistant manager who recently got transferred to my store and she's really awesome. Anyway, awesome assistant manager comes up and was told the situation.

She then proceeds to explain to self entitled soccer mom where her precious chips are going to be and the soccer mom has the balls to say, "Listen I'm not walking anymore, can someone just go get them for me, I want the sea salt flavor."

Now awesome assistant manager reacts just like I react when given this type of behavior and says yup in a really sarcastic tone and goes to get the precious item.

While my asst manager goes to get them I hear soccer mom tell one of her hell spawn, "Well we HAVE to wait, they ALWAYS move those chips and I just don't understand why they can't just leave in it one place *insert more passive aggressive remarks*

My assistant manager came back, gave her the chips and walked away. We complained to each other about soccer mom afterwards, which both made us happier :]

Now for a really awesome story to end with...

I occasionally will do a scratch off just to try my luck. The other day I got into work a little early and decided to buy one. At the same time one of my favorite regulars was with his wife and was also buying one. We have an ongoing joke that I'm his luck because 9 times out of 10 whenever I sell him lotto he wins. So we were both buying them and he tells me to stay while he picks which scratch off to do. We laugh, and I stay just to humor him and wish him a good day.

I went outside to have a smoke and see if I won. I didn't, but it was worth the shot. My regular comes up to me and goes "I knew it! You really are my luck, I just won 100 dollars!"

Of course I was happy for him, he would have been happy for me. He went inside cashed it in and came over to me and gave me 20 dollars, which he considered my "cut". I tried to give it back but he ran off. He seriously made my day and I went into work with a huge smile on my face. It wasn't just the 20 dollars, it was knowing that people out there really are nice and really do appreciate the workers they see when they come in to shop. Honestly though, I love when I see him because I know I'll be getting a nice conversation and a happy customer.

Hope all is well with everyone!

xoxo

--Slave with No Name

A Trio Of Stories From Theatre And Volunteer Hell

So, um, the Crazy Coffee Lady came back during my shift some weeks ago.

I think she may have come back to the Union before, but I'm the only one that's actually on the lookout for her. I saw her come up to my desk, and I quickly grabbed my manager. "Hey," I whispered. "That lady's back." I pointed at her as subtly as I could.

"Oh. Okay, thanks. I'll take care of it," he said. Thank goodness for that because there was no way I was going to stall her.

My manager got the building manager and they took her away to talk to her where I could still see her, but couldn't hear anything. A few minutes later, someone from Campus Security showed up to talk to her too. My guess is that they were explaining that she was banned for whatever reason and that they needed to see her ID. There was some confusion about paperwork, and she didn't have a pencil or something. I'm not really sure because I had other students come by that I needed to help.

That took about an hour, and I just kept an eye on her thinking, "Ooh, boy! She's going to be kicked out for good!

"Then she vanished. Oh. Okay. I asked the building manager what went down after my manager asked where she went. It turns out that the Crazy Coffee Lady has been ... unbanned. Apparently she didn't want to hand over her student ID because she thought the building manager was going to take it away from her. And that's what all the confusion has been about.

*sigh* Her picture's been taken off the back of the door and she's allowed in the building. I haven't seen her since, nor have I seen her at the theatre. YET.

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

In other stupid news, I have a new hatred for humanity.

I think I mentioned the co-op that I volunteer at in the last CCL post. What I didn't mention is that there are a few things the 'customers' agree to when they buy their baskets. In order to get a lot of good quality food for a really cheap price, they agree to volunteer at their site at least once a month. If you don't pay employees, you don't have to pay as much for your food. Who knew? I don't buy a basket, but I still volunteer every week, and have actually been there more often than my Mom or the other site coordinator. I guess this makes me a bit of a self-righteous snob, but it's really hard to be friendly when I'm there at 5 am and people are coming at 6:30 and wondering where their basket is when we only had one volunteer: me.

That's right. There have been at least two weeks where I was the only volunteer that showed up. One of those was the day my Grandmother died at 1:30 am, and my Mom had to work at the hospital. We usually sell out at 96 baskets, which is between 85 to 94 people (some buy more than one) who just decided not to volunteer ever.

Some people have the audacity to get grouchy at me. I chased one guy out of the parking lot because he parked in the firemen's lot and he wasn't supposed to because we want the firemen to like us. When he left, he was upset that someone had kicked him out, and said we should have someone out there directing parking. I told him, "Well we didn't have any volunteers today, so I couldn't stand at the driveway and tell you where to park. Did I mention that we had no volunteers?"

Other people get mad at us for not having the food distributed early enough or for there being no parking at the fire station. "Yeah, well, we're late because we had no volunteers. Park somewhere else."

I'm also really starting to hate the people who come late and say, "I was going to volunteer this morning ..."

No you weren't. Shut up, take your basket, and only come back when you actually do volunteer.

Today was the last day for my Mom's site, and we finally had enough volunteers! We actually got done before people started showing up to pick up their baskets! This site is an outdoor site, and we have to find an indoor one if we want to continue. We didn't find one before the month ended, so we don't have a site for October.

Hopefully we'll get one for November, and we'll get some volunteers that come back. Also, people are starting to harvest from their gardens, so they haven't been buying as many baskets lately, so maybe we're not needed right now. Break time!

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

Tonight is closing night of the first play of the season. Yay! This show has been surprisingly slow for a musical, which has led to another problem: Cookies. We are barely selling any cookies, but not because people aren't buying them. My manager cannot seem to figure out that we are running out of them constantly. He never buys enough on Fridays to last three shows, or enough on Monday to last two or Wednesday to last three. If this happened once or twice, I wouldn't be as worried, but cookies have been a constant worry. We should be buying enough that we have leftovers, and then cut back during the last week. Cookies make up most of our concessions profit, so when we have none ...

Another problem we have had is the line at the box office. Word of mouth has been spreading, and people are coming to buy tickets (or see it for free if they're a student). I have to deal with late seating, so when I see a line stretching out past the ticket office two minutes to curtain, I panic.

Patrons will be buying tickets after the show has started and I have to hold them. Hopefully this is a sign to the people who manage the box office staff to have three people instead of two per night. I hope people complain and this gets changed because I don't like having to late seat people who got here on time but have been waiting in line. The last time I saw lines this bad, it was White Christmas, which reminds me of a funny story.

The week before Christmas, late seating was the worst I had ever dealt with. One night, I wasn't supervising so this was marginally more enjoyable for me. One man was PISSED that he had been waiting in line so long and couldn't go in to see the show because it had started. He marched right up to the door and my wonderful supervisor chased him down and stopped him. "I paid for a ticket!" he said. "I'm going to get my seat that I paid for!"

"Just go watch the show on the screen around the corner. We'll tell you when we can take you in," she said. At this point, I strategically placed myself in front of the door.

"No! I want my seat! You don't have to stand guard over me."

"Well I'm not leaving until you go back to watch the screen."

"I'm not going to sneak in," he replied indignantly.

"I'll watch him," I told my supervisor so she could go deal with the rest of the crowd.

When the cue came, we opened the doors, and the man zipped right in and took his seat. Right on the end of the back row. My supervisor was going to tell him to wait a second, but whatever. All of the late people had to sit in that back row, so they all had to pass him. We were trying to avoid that, but if his seat is that important, he's free to sit where everyone is going past and stepping on his feet.

Anyway, you'll never guess who I saw again last night in my pile of late people who bought tickets after curtain.

Tune in next time when I teach you how to hand your tickets to the ushers!

--V-Slice

A Parade Of Custys Through Self Serve

Hey guys :) I really appreciated all the feedback I got from my last post about ratting on a co-worker who was being a lazy fuck.

I didn't tell Marmite or corporate about what I saw as I think Marmite already knows. Lately Feckless has been using the headset system for ID's more but he still acts like working is completely beneath him. I feel bad for wishing this in our current economy, but I really hope he's canned soon.

So today was the weirdest day, by far. I was on self-service my whole shift (yaaay, fun right!) and about an hour in we had the local crazy lady come in.

She always tries to steal the small chocolates we are currently peddling so our security guard shadowed her and when she grabbed a handful and put them in her purse, he shouted "NO! CRAZYLADY YOU CAN'T DO THAT! IT'S VERY NAUGHTY!" She pretty much crapped her pants.

Then there was the old guy who needed help finding about 20 items (we're not a big store, stop being lazy). Every time, EVERY TIME I found something for him, he grabbed my ass. After the 4th item I just left and got my co-worker to help him. Pervy men are just... blech.

And finally, just as I was about to clock out, I saw a well-dressed lady ripping off the barcode on our super-expensive -store-brand-best- flowers and replacing it with a code from flowers that were £1. She then took her cart with about £200 worth of booze through self-service. Store policy says we can't confront shoplifters/scammers because they might get offended and sue. We have to 'counteract their bad actions with kindness' So here's how it went down.

Me: Hi there! Did you want a flower bag for those? Stops them dripping all over your car.

Her: Oh uhh...no thanks.

Me: No problem! Let me help you with your shopping *loads the bags into her trolley to make space for more booze*.

Her: Uhh.......cheers. *pretends to scan flowers and places them so I can't see the label*

Me: Oh hang on, they didn't scan. Let me do it. Oh dear! Someone has put the wrong barcode on these. I'll just grab the right one.

Her: *death glare*

Me: There you go! All fixed. And here is your receipt, have a good evening and happy holidays! *Sickly sweet smile*

Her: *grumble grumble glare bitch*

May your NAT's be stupid and unsubtle!

-TillTart x

Entitled Bitch In A Mercedes Causes Trouble In A Drivethrough, Heavenspawn Brings Giggles

Hello again. I’m the girl who ran into the crazy cigarette lady who “forgot her wallet” at the 24/7. I’m still not in retail, but have a retail story I think may make you smile this time. I’ve decided to call myself Les from “L.E.S.” – the abbreviation for Law Enforcement Support used in our office.

It was Friday, and I’d taken a half day off. I was running errands with a friend’s four year old daughter who I’ll call Little Sweetie. We’re just finishing up with a run through a fast food drive thru. Because even Little Sweetie can have her moments and ‘Auntie’ Les is not above bribing with a Happy Meal.

Quick explanation, this restaurant has a weird drive thru. There’s a menu board that you get to first, kind of on the side of the building. It has several signs on it “Pull ahead to order”. Then next menu board, with the intercom to inside, is further around the back of the restaurant. It has a huge sign saying “ORDER HERE”. And yes you can see the second while sitting at the first.

I pulled in behind a Mercedes sitting at the first menu. I figured the woman was deciding what she wanted. And Little Sweetie and I were singing along with the radio. No rush. No panic. But a few minutes go by and Little Sweetie’s getting a bit fidgety. We’re sooo close to the French fries.

Then I realized that Mercedes Lady was yelling at the menu board. I turned off the radio, put down the window, and can hear her clearly. “HELLO. IS ANYONE WORKING HERE? I WANT TO ORDER! HELLO!”

I waved to her and gestured her to move forward. And she flipped me the finger. OK.

Another minute goes by, and she’s still yelling at the wrong board. And now another customer has pulled up behind me, boxing me in. So I put the truck in park and slide out. I told Little Sweetie to sit still for a moment.

I took a few steps forward and call to the woman, “Ma’am you need to pull up to the next board to order. Ma’am?”

And she freaked out. “GET AWAY FROM MY CAR. WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? DON’T TOUCH MY CAR! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?”

My thoughts – "Yeah, you’re a bitch in a Mercedes who can’t be bothered to read a fricking sign. And I’m nowhere near touching your car."

But I just said again, “You need to order at the next screen, Ma’am.” And I got back into my SUV. (side note here, 90% of the time if I say Ma’am… I’m thinking Bitch but the job tends to frown on us calling citizens that.)

She was still screaming. “I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I’VE EATEN HERE?!?! IS NOBODY WORKING HERE? I WANT TO ORDER NOW!”

"So Entitled Bitch in a Mercedes. Got it."

Now I was getting frustrated. Little Sweetie was getting anxious. Then the guy in the pickup behind me whistled. I turned to look, and he gestured for me to pull around. I kind of recognized him, so he’s either law enforcement from somewhere (sort of looked cop-like) or he’s been arrested recently. Not sure actually. Either way, he backed up so I could back up. I pulled around the Mercedes and drove up to the second (and correct) menu board. The pickup followed me.

As I placed our order, a girl came out from the rear of the restaurant. (BTW I’ve been told I can’t call someone a kid if they’re older than I am. So…) I saw her gesture to the menu board, point out the signs (Pull ahead to order) to Mercedes Lady. A pause, then I saw her shake her head and point again before she turned and walked away.

I pulled up to the window and handed over the cash to a girl I remember from school. The others inside were talking about the woman. The cashier told me that the manager walked out to ask Mercedes Lady to move forward, and she screamed at the girl and demanded she take her order and deliver the food to her car. The manager refused. As we’re talking, the Mercedes squealed by me, horn blaring, the woman’s hand out of the window, middle finger extended. Little Sweetie didn’t see the finger (thankfully I didn’t have to explain that gesture) but did hear the horn.

She leaned forward and said “That lady was NOT NICE!”

And I responded, “That lady was a Whack-a-Doodle.” (current office lingo for crazy) Which apparently was the funniest word Little Sweetie had heard in all of her four years on Earth. She just dissolved into unbelievably loud giggles. The kind that makes everyone smile, even tired stressed fast food clerks. As I got our food, Little Sweetie was repeating ‘Whack-a-Doodle’ and laughing hysterically. As I pulled away, I heard the clerks all burst into laughter. I live to serve.

The rest of the weekend, that was the word. She’d say it, drawing it out, “Whack-a-Dooooooodle.” And laughing. Especially once she realized that it made my German Shepard do that WTF head tilt thing. Then she started singing. Yep Mercedes Lady has her own theme song now. It changes with every singing, but it usually boils down to "Wt’s better to be nice then a Whack-a-Dooooooodle."

Yeah, her pre-school teacher is going to love me this week. If she’s still singing it when we figure out what her daddy did with my camera, I will definitely be filming her.

So here’s wishing you nice Custys. Or if not, may thinking of Little Sweetie’s song bring you a giggle.

--Les

Crazy Lady Pitches Fit Because She Wants Her Way, Tries Several Times To Make Trouble

Cell-Circuit Chick, Here ! I have a story about a crazy custy, that took place about 2 or so weeks ago. I'm awful at coming up with names for coworkers, so please try and follow along with my CW1 CW2 , etc.

This whole situation started on a day where CW1 was at the store alone for an hour or so because other CW went home, sick. While CW1 was alone, a lady (who I'll call Sales Lady) came in. She's in our store often because she sells things off of her facebook page, almost like to Avon, and then she'll drop off our orders. So, this day, Sales Lady was dropping of an order for CW1.

While CW1 was paying for her things, a customer (who I'll call Crazy Lady) comes in. CW1 is finishing up quickly with Sales Lady, so she can wait on the customer, who was acknowledged. CW2 walks in - but not to clock in. Just to drop off her things.

Crazy Lady stops CW2 and says "Uh, excuse me, but aren't you going to help me ?"

CW2 responds that she is not on the clock yet, but CW1 will help her out in just a moment. (Keep in mind, not even 2 minutes have passed since Crazy Lady walked in the door.)

Crazy Lady wasn't having it. She walks up to the counter, bangs her fists on it and then turns around and lectures CW1 on what she should and should not be doing at work.

She then storms out, only to return 30 minutes later with our Customer Care line on the phone. Apparently she thought they could do something to us (and occasionally, some call centre reps think they can, too .. but that's a whole post for another day). She demands that CW1 speak to them and give her name. Since Crazy Lady is, well.. crazy, CW1 says that she will *not* be speaking to anyone and she is definitely not giving her name to this woman.

Crazy Lady storms back out, stands outside of the store for a bit screaming about how she was going to kill CW1, and then disappears. Around this time, CW2 clocks in, and as she is clocking in, the phone rings. It's the mall manager. (Now, this guy thinks he has authority over the stores, it's employees, and it's policies. He does not. His job is to simply keep the mall clean and running - but he acts this way, often.)

He demands our DM's number, which CW2 says we aren't allowed to give and then he starts tearing in to CW2, who hangs up on him and goes down to his office, herself, to let him know just what happened, and let him know he has no right to call our store and speak to us that way.

While she is at his office, she finds out that Crazy Lady also told mall management and security that Sales Lady was going store to store, soliciting! She tried to get an innocent woman in trouble. So they were demanding Sales Lady's name and info, which CW2 told them is none of their business, and leaves. Mall Manager also called our manager on her day off, to demand our DM's number from her, as well.

Once all of the drama dies down, it's found out that Crazy Lady was a client of our competitor, and she couldn't get what she wanted down there after throwing a fit at them, so she came to us. Then, the mall manager sent up security to apologise for him (he wouldn't come up, himself) because he got the full story.

At this point, Crazy Lady is still at it - calling our manager demanding CW1 and CW2 be fired. She also wants them to take turns calling her, to apologise. Naturally, CW1 and 2 refused, and they have our manager as well as our DMs support in that.

--Cell-Circuit Chick

Caller Frightened By Scary Bird

 

Crazy Phone Custy Solution

 

Two Stories: Of Smoking Hellspawn And A Crazy Pertussis Lady

From: Zeacow

Hello again!

Well small update on the husband, he quit. New DM caused problems and singled him out because he was the old DM's golden child.

Got two stories today!

This story was only recently resolved and honestly, is disgusting. When he worked there, he and his coworkers smoked. They would leave their butts in a corner on the ground and at the end of they day one of 'em would go clean up the mess.

Well there's a middle school about a block away, and a few "brilliant'" teenage boys started to notice that some of the cigarettes weren't fully smoked so would PICK THEM UP OFF THE GROUND and light them up and smoke them.

They did this a couple times before my husband caught them in the act and chased them off. He kept tabs on them, and they came by every school day to see if there were any they could "salvage." Well when he called the cops they told him they couldn't do anything.

He ended up setting out a sign that said the following: "Attention kids, one of my employees has hepatitis and is one of the smokers here. You need to talk to your parents so they can go get you tested."

It wasn't long before he got calls from a couple angry parents demanding to know why he infected their little angels. He told them exactly what they did, and the line would go quiet before they thanked him for bringing that to their attention and would hang up. One man even brought his son in to apologize. Never ceases to amaze what some dumb teens will do to smoke.

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The other story is a short one. This one happened the first week of August.

I was almost full term with our daughter and a week prior we had the tour of the hospital and all the information given to us about the upcoming birth, including the warnings that we needed to get vaccinated against pertussis (whooping cough).

We signed the agreement to get the shot as well as our daughter getting it as well. We go back home, and all was well until that week. He and his ASM Honkeymex (his nickname), were catching up on paperwork when a woman comes in looking awful and had a nasty cough.

She walks around and is touching EVERYTHING she can get her hands on and spots my husband. She is to be known as Crazy Pertussis Lady.

Crazy Pertussis Lady: Hey! I need help here, I need a cable, and damn quick, I am sick and need to get home!

Hubby: Sure thing ma'am, what kind of cable do you need?

Crazy Pertussis Lady: I don't know, just a cable! Hurry up and find it, I gotta get home, the doctor just diagnosed me with pertussis!

Hubby pauses and backs up further away from her.

Hubby: Ma'am I have to ask you to not get any closer to me. I am very sorry, but my wife is pregnant and due any day and I don't want to get this and get her and our daughter sick. I will gladly help you, but I cannot get any closer. Now over here--

Crazy Pertussis Lady: HOW DARE YOU!? Discriminating against me because I have a cough? I don't give a damn about your brat and slut wife, if they get sick and die who cares? I WANT MY DAMN CABLE!

Hubby: Get. Out. I said I would still help you and only asked that you didn't get close. Your business here is not as important to me than the health and safety of my family. Leave. Now.

Crazy Pertussis Lady: WHO IS YOUR BOSS? I AM GETTING YOU FIRED!

He points out the card with his DM's name on it and she took one and stormed out. He and Honkeymex spent the rest of the day practically soaking the store and products in Lysol.

He ends up getting a call with his DM (old one) laughing and told him to ignore it. That woman was nuts and he was surprised he didn't throw the woman out the second she let loose her diagnosis.

Honestly, a damn cable was so fucking important that she had to risk infecting everyone? When he got home and told me about that gem, I was a bit pissed at first then busted out laughing. Fucking weirdos everywhere.

--Zeacow

The Tale of Superhag

Ugh, I had the biggest hag of a customer yesterday, guys. =( I’ll be the first to admit I take jerk customers too personally and let them upset me too easily, but usually after an hour I’m fine and am performing unflattering impressions of them for my friends. This one, for some reason, stuck with me all the way home, leaving a pit of anxiety in my stomach. This story’s a little long; I’m sorry in advance. I just need some reassurance!

It was not long after noon, during a bit of a lull when an older woman came to my counter to enlarge some knitting patterns that she couldn’t read. No problem at all. While I’m helping her, Superhag rolled up, seeming like a nice person at the time. She was doing some shipping but still needed to pack up her boxes, so I let her pack while I helped the older lady, and when Superhag signaled she was ready, I turned the computer around for her to type her shipping info, and resumed the copies.

At Office Ghetto, copy slaves are basically trained to multitask. If you can’t, you’ll never make it. I’ve actually been complimented many times on my ability to take care of several customers at once; they all seem to understand that I’m helping them all, and therefore delays of a few seconds will happen, but that I’ll keep moving and taking care of their jobs. I pride myself on making sure none of them feel left out. So I kept an eye on Superhag while running copies for the older lady.

Superhag was having trouble with the computer. I helped her whenever she called for me. It was just her and the older lady there, but I could see Superhag getting impatient, so I tried to be available the second she called. Then, OF COURSE, the computer for whatever dumb reason dumped one of her shipping manifests and she had to type it again, which, while annoying, only takes a few minutes. While she did that, I finished with the older lady and had her go ring out up front because Superhag was now ready.

While I’m printing the sticker for the first package, another woman walks up. I tell her it’ll be just a moment (per Ghetto rules, we have to acknowledge anyone waiting – and I’d feel bad about ignoring someone anyway!) and keep helping Superhag. After I ship the second box and start on the third, (a process that needs no input from the customer btw. We do it all ourselves.), the woman waiting speaks up and says she’s just there to pick something up and she doesn’t mind ringing out up front. So, while the third sticker is printing, I take exactly three steps from the computer to pick up the lady’s boxes.

Superhag explodes into a gusty sigh. “This is ridiculous!”

I set the boxes on the counter for the lady waiting, grab the sticker from the printer, and walk to the third package to find Superhag glaring at me and snarling, “I can’t believe you, you’ve waited on three people since I’ve been here! That is unacceptable!”

Me: *stunned* “I…I’m sorry.”

Superhag: “You know what, you ARE sorry. This is ridiculous.”

Me: *beginning to tremble* “Would you like me to call a manager?”

Superhag: “No, I’ll take care of this online.”

I should have called for a manager anyway, but at that point I was in the middle of an anxiety attack and was unable to speak, and just wanted to get her out. I put the sticker on the box, and I guess Superhag hadn’t unloaded enough, because she exploded again: “And I suppose you’ll probably smash my boxes now, so I will be taking out a complaint on that.”

Me: (Surprise at such an insinuation taking over my fear for a moment.) “Wh-what? I won’t do that.”

Superhag: “Oh really?”

Me: “Of course not, I would never do that.” (I mean yeah, she’s a bitch, but I’d never destroy someone’s stuff on purpose out of vindication.)

Superhag: “Hrmph! We’ll see!”

I take the barcodes to the register and have her sign the store’s copy, which, for some reason, she makes a point of scrawling all over: “Please do not break these boxes!” I didn’t feel like telling her the mailperson will never see that note because these papers are for our records only. She then insisted on copies of her signed sheets, which I gave her. Right about then another lady walked up and got in line.

Then, when I ask how Superhag wants to pay, she says she already gave me her card. I tell her I don’t think she did, (starting to panic anew that she did and I somehow lost it even though I was 100% sure she never gave it to me) when she finds it under the papers. Obviously she had set it on the counter and one of the papers fluttered over it. She throws it at me, snapping, “Here it is, you shoved it back at me with the papers.”

I finish the transaction, she snatches the receipt from me, and storms away. I take a step back and try to breathe, and the lady waiting glances after her and goes, “Well, she wasn’t a very nice person!”

This, apparently, was my cue to start sobbing. I’m not proud, RHU. I wish I didn’t cry so easily. But this woman rattled me. I started to panic that she would write a bad letter full of lies to the company, and that somehow her boxes would get damaged and she’d come back and yell at me, and I would be fired, (after I was JUST made full time!) and my family/coworkers would be disappointed in me and I’d never be able to show my face at the Ghetto again and I wouldn’t be able to make my car or insurance payments or help my mom with bills and it just kept spiraling. On top of which, the reviews affect the whole store, and our store hasn’t had many surveys this year, so I know my boss is under pressure from the DM to get more. A single bad survey would ruin our average at this point. I love my boss, and letting her down breaks my heart. So I’m crying preemptively over disappointing her, too. It was horribly embarrassing, I hate that I can’t be cool and stoic. I tried to apologize to the woman waiting between sobs, who was really nice and saying, “Oh honey, what did she do? It’s okay, don’t worry.”

Then, suddenly, she took off at a stride down the hallway. I assumed that she was going to get my manager, but it turns out she was going after Superhag! After a moment she came back, saying that Superhag had gotten in her car and “got away this time.” I don’t know what she was planning to do if she’d caught Superhag, but knowing that she’d gone after her at all was amazing enough! She then proceeded to tell me everything would be okay again and that karma’s going to bite some haggy ass one day. (Which I do believe.) There are some really great people in the world.

In the end, everything was basically okay. My coworkers were sympathetic, I apologized to my boss for if we get a bad review (to which my boss replied, “if she writes a bad review about you, then she can kiss my tushie.” My boss is the best. <3) and I know my job is safe and my car won’t be repossessed and we won’t lose the house. (Gotta love the ridiculous things anxiety makes us think, eh?)

Yet Superhag’s ghost haunts me, even a day later. I keep remembering her sneering at me and how cruel her tone was. I don’t understand what I did wrong. The old woman I was helping was there BEFORE the hag, so logically she should get help first, and I tried to always stop and help Superhag whenever she asked and worked on the other job only when she was typing. I guess I could have made the pick up lady wait, but all I did was grab her boxes and set them on the counter for her. It took five seconds, and I did it WHILE a sticker was printing, so it wasn’t like there was anything I could have done for Superhag during those five seconds anyway. I don’t even know where that “you helped three people” thing came from since I only helped two…and why would she accuse me of smashing her boxes?! I’m so afraid now that somehow they’ll be damaged in transit and she’ll come after me, or that she’ll lie and claim they were damaged. We all know corporate doesn’t care if crusties lie, the customer is always right!

WHY am I letting one bitchy ass crusty get to me so much? Crazy flash drive lady is a silly memory! Jerkhole paper guy means nothing to me! I LAUGH about the woman who said I needed plastic surgery! But fifteen minutes with Superhag and I can’t even come home and chillax with some pie without getting a stomachache when I remember her words. (And fuck her for that, too. Dessert should be sacred and should not be allowed to be ruined by memories of jerks.) GAH. Retail Gods help my sanity if she actually does write a bad review. I may have to rent a room under a rock for a few days.

I hate haggy customers. May they stay far away from you all!

-- <3 BookAce

 

PS: What is “you ARE sorry” supposed to mean, anyway? Did she think I wasn’t really sorry and it means “you SHOULD BE sorry?” Is it short for “you are a sorry excuse for a person?” Is sorry a descriptive word, like “you are awful?” Damn it Superhag, if you have to haunt me why couldn’t you be more specific?

Winners of Walmart

 

From Walmart Bitch

 

Evie Shares A Story And Wants to Hear RHU Thoughts

It's me, Evie! I'm back with yet another tale of healthcare hell.

To preface, it's flu season, and the clinic is slammed. Coughs, croups, asthma, and intestinal issues abound. So instead of a regular appointment schedule, each day we have at least one provider scheduled to take care of nothing but urgent care -- basically whoever walks in off the street needing immediate care.

The provider on schedule, I'll call her Red, is a very sweet capable lady, but she can be a little ruthlessly efficient when she's overwhelmed. A woman walks in with a sick toddler and explains that she is his aunt and he needs to be seen. She has a note from the mother stating she can be present for his exam. Anyways Red takes a look, finds some minor infant issues, explains things to the aunt and sends them on their way.

An hour later, the mom calls in demanding to speak to Red. Apparently an ointment Red prescribed is ringing alarm bells in Rude Mom's head, and she needs to get to the bottom of it ASAP.

The front desk employee (we'll call her Tia, 'cause she's like a fiesty auntie) actually breaks protocol and goes back to speak to Red, who explains the situation briefly but cannot stop to talk to Rude Mom because she has at least five other sick patients in rooms. Tia relays the info and tells Rude Mom that for a more detailed consult she's either going to have to wait until Red has a minute to respond to messages, or come back in with the kid and get a time slot.

Rude Mom goes off about how she can't take off work, and Tia murmurs sympathies, stating that she has her own children and knows how hard it can be. Rude Mom does NOT care for that, and snaps back that she "Don't give a fuck about your kids, I care about MY kid and I don't want to hear your fucking problems!" She continues in this vein, getting more and more irate, until Tia hangs up the phone.

Another hour passes and suddenly I'm getting frantic phone calls. Rude Mom has managed to escape her workplace and is in the waiting room making a scene. Tia is hiding in the hallway to avoid escalating things, but I can tell she's about to lose her temper. I go up there to try and calm things down.

Evie: "Hi, I'm Evie, I hear you're having some problems, would you like to come back and talk with me?"

RM: "Hell no. I don't care if I'm making a scene, y'all deserve to sweat a little!"

Evie: "Ooookay. Well, why don't you tell me what's wrong, and I'll see if I can fix it for you."

RM: "Just bring the phone bitch out here and I'll fix it myself!" (She gestures towards the door and makes a fist.)

Evie: "I sent her on break, and I certainly won't be bringing her back up here. I'd really like to help you if I can."

RM: "Fine then, I just want to let you know that all your staff are rude bitches, and you're a rude bitch, too."

Evie: "I'm sorry you feel that way."

RM: "I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY SON'S PENIS. I AM A GOOD MOTHER AND Y'ALL DON'T GIVE A SHIT AND THAT'S MAKIN' ME AGITATED!"

Evie: "Look, I can get you records of the visit, I can let you sit down with a nurse, or I can take you to a room and we can talk more. I don't know how else to help you."

RM: "WHAT DO I CARE? WHAT'S ONE MORE INCOMPETENT BITCH?"

Evie: "Okay, listen. If you want to come back and talk to me when you're calmed down, great. But right now you're upsetting my other patients and you need to leave." (At this point she's making threatening gestures, so I put my hand on the phone and start to dial the police.)

RM: "Oh I'm leaving. I'm fucking leaving, and I won't be back!"

Everyone heaves a collective sigh. I apologize to the other people in the waiting room, especially the children, who are looking a little shell-shocked. They all mutter that they understand and it's okay, but I feel terrible. After I calm the front desk staff down, I go back and find Tia, and tell her to take a few more minutes and get herself a cup of coffee. I go back to my desk, visibly shaken, but ten minutes later my phone rings -- it's Rude Mom.

RM: "I just want you to know that I could sue you. Those receptionists were not telling you how things really went down, and they made it look like I am a bad mother. Just thought you should know." (She hangs up. I pop two Tylenol and lay down on a couch for a while.)

Afterwards I contacted the owner and got the woman and her family banned from the clinic, but it still bothered me. I wished I could have stood up for my people better, and I hate that I let that woman make a horrible scene in our waiting room and upset so many people. In retrospect I was pretty cowardly; I was so afraid she was going to throw a punch at me or something I didn't kick her out on her ass when I should have.

Any of you guys ever felt that way? On the one hand, no one got hurt. On the other hand, everyone was upset and the witch walked away almost scot-free.

Let me know your thoughts, and stay strong!

Love, 

--Evie

The Wreath Lady

   The other day I found myself drifting into the murky past of my retail history. Upon that trip through Nightmare Boulevard, I happened to remember my encounter with...The Wreath Lady.
*foreboding music*

When I was in college and working weekends and school breaks at a craft store, I usually worked one of the departments...stocking, ordering, helping customers...but a few days I ran register as well.

On one particularly nice afternoon, the kind where you'd almost be willing to roll around on gravel just to be let out and enjoy the cool, sweet air and the bright, warm sunshine, my fellow cashier "GG" (who had been working there since they opened) and I were wistfully gazing out the window between customers and waiting for our shifts to end.

Suddenly the wind shifted. The sky reminded bright and the air remained cool...but the cheerful sweetness had left, leaving a sour uneasiness. Even the birds flitted away and cowered in hushed silence.
Enter, The Wreath Lady, with a glaring expression and a superior air about her.

"Oh crap!" whispered GG.

"What?!" I hushed back.

"That's the Wreath Lady!"

"Oh, Lord. This isn't gonna be good, is it?"

I had never encountered TWL but I had enough jadedness of retail to know that when I crusty gains nickname status, it's something to be noted.

TWL strolled over to the floral dept with her cart, pointing her nose and eyeing everyone as though se were walking through a peasant village instead of a craft store. She went and loaded her cart to overfilling with grapevine wreaths and headed to my register. GG breathed a sigh of relief, I braced for impact. 

"Oh course it had to be my register...I'm so lucky" I thought with a twist in my stomach.

TWL stood at my register, leering at me and doing nothing.

"Well?!" She snorted. "Aren't you going to ring me up?!"

Realizing that she thought herself too good to unload her own cart, I reached over and started taking the wreaths out of the basket. They were very large wreaths, and shoved rather firmly into the cart as well...becoming somewhat tangled.

Now, for those of you who are unfamiliar with grapevine wreaths, they are twisty bundles of dried vines with lots of little twigs and tendrils and sprigs sticking out all over. They are very brittle and considerably delicate for their size.

As soon as I gave the slightest tug on the first wreath, TWL screeched at me. 

"What are you doing!? Don't you break my wreaths!"

I offered to key them in manually, since we would just type in the price and dept code anyway, I figured I could just look at the tags while they were still in the basket.
She looked at me with disgust.
 
"Don't be stupid. I WANT them BAGGED! And don't you break a single twig!"

Internally I thought, oh shit, bags? For grapevine wreaths?  Without breaking off any of the tiny little bits that stick out? You gotta be kidding me.
So for the next hour or so, I painstakingly removed each wreath from the cart, keyed it in, and placed them in bags with surgical precision. With TWL all the while sighing and tapping her foot and rapping her fingers with professional grade impatience. Some of the largest ones wouldn't fit entirely into a bag and TWL growled at me.

"Put two bags on that one, I don't want them ruined by having any sticking out!"

*Sigh* I delicately pull another bag over the other end of the largest wreath, the middle still stuck out.

"I'm sorry, these are the biggest bags we have" I meeped

TWL just glared as if I'd just said her shoes looked like she stepped in aardvark shit. (Which they did, by the way)

Once the order was completed, I told her the total and she pulled out her checkbook and scrawled out the info. I lifted the bags and handed them to her lightly, which she promptly smushed back into the cart. I cringed with the sound of her precious tendrils crunching and snapping with each shove.

And the fondant on this crapcake of a story is, when I glanced at her check to put it in the till, it was one of those Bible verse checks...and the verse was even something about patience and kindness. Way to be a good example of what you claim to represent, lady.

~Spritzy 

Angry Custy At The Gas Station

So today in the gas station while Tex is on break, a woman comes in, just fuming and furious.

But Tex, who is usually an asshole, is on a Tweaker Energy drink, so he’s in a pretty good mood. He smiles at this lady and says ‘C’mon! No sad faces in here, let’s see a smile!

This woman just glares at him and says “I hate everything to do with [Tribe] and gambling.”

So… why the fuck is this woman in a gas station OWNED by said tribe, which sits next to a giant-ass Casino?

Tex is determined to get a smile out of this woman, though, and says “Well, I’m a member of [Tribe to the north], I ain’t [Tribe]!”

She glares harder, if possible, and yells “I just hate all you fucking Indians!”

Yet Tex just keeps smiling and motions to the east.

“Well get back in your canoe and paddle your ass back to England, lady, we were here first.”

--Terah

It Ain't Easy Being Cheesycotic

Holy snack time, Batman! People really need to chill out about their junk food.

From burglars leading the cops to their doorstep with a trail of Cheetos to schools banning the popular snacks, the outrage over these crunchy tidbits is getting out of control.

We are all familiar with the ever so (unfortunately) common incidents of customers flipping their shit over a minor inconvenience in the fast food line. And now people are taking their grease-laden rage to the snack isle.

~~~
In Texas, a woman beat her sister to the point of unconsciousness when the girl was found munching the cheesy goodness.

After the Oct. 11 incident, Deby Mejia, 23, reportedly told investigators thatshe resents her little sister for being born and never loved her, KHOU reported.

Mejia's little sister reportedly brought a bag of Cheetos to their Houston apartment while Mejia was away. The woman allegedly came home to find her sister snacking and went ballistic. She's accused of whipping the little girl with an extension cord, then banging her head on the floor into unconsciousness, according to The Weekly Vice.

The woman was charged with child abuse and put in jail. But investigators and neighbors said this wasn't the first time she'd hurt her sister.

Mejia has looked after the the girl since their mother was deported to Honduras in 2006. A neighbor told KHOU that there was regular abuse, including a punishment that included Meija forcing her sister to kneel on a bag of rice while balancing a bucket of water on her head.

A CPS worker told reporters that there is no record of Mejia or the abuse. Had CPS been informed of a minor caring for another minor, they would have looked into the case, according to KHOU. The victim is now in foster care.

The suspect doesn't feel any remorse for the alleged crime and doesn't think she did anything wrong, KTRK reported. She's scheduled to appear in court on Nov. 13, and her bail was set at $60,000.
~~~

C'mon people...it's a damn cheese puff...or a fucking cheeseburger...or a shitty chicken nugget. Chill the fuck out and take a step back to realise how moronic you're acting.

*sigh* 

Entitled Grocery Store Custy Told In Clever Way

A clever RHUer gets a Retail Balls Award for how they handled a dumbass entitled Mercedes driver:

Long time reader, occasional commenter, first time submitter here. Call me Kuroneko4276, A. because that's my commenter name and B. because I have several black rescue cats and the only politics you'll ever hear from me are 'please spay and neuter your animals,' 'black cats are GOOD luck' and 'adopt, don't shop.'

This happened to me today in the awful snowstorm that's hit the East Coast. I was heading home from work and needed to get something, so I stopped at a large big-box store where some of my friends work, knowing from their texts that they were still at work despite the snow and figuring “well, if it's really dead in there like it was at my work, I can hang around and chat with them like we do sometimes.” I work at a not-quite-retail establishment that doesn't shut down for the holidays and we pretty much spent the day catching up on projects and then playing charades with the boss until it was closing time. (I have the best boss since Fezziwig, so I will call him that here.)

So I got to the Big Boxmart and it was a damn madhouse. Apparently nobody has ever seen snow before and folks were buying bottled water, milk, bread and flashlights like the Albino Brain Chigger Apocalypse was upon us all, plus they were twenty-five deep at the returns desk because hey, Boxing Day in this country is really Return All The Presents Day. Some people! Feeling a little sad that my friends were stuck there in the Nth circle of retail hell, I looked around and made a note of who was working where, then I added four cold sodas from the case to my shopping basket, waited in line like a good custy, bought my stuff and then went around to my friends' cashwraps, distributing carbonated goodness like the damn Coke Fairy. Root beer for Applejack, Sprite for Princess, Diet Dr. Pepper for Big Mama and regular Coke for Big Macintosh (whom I shall call that because A. he's the girl I call 'Applejack's big brother and B. the two of them pretty much are the same, character-wise, as their 'My Little Pony' equivalents and would get a hell of a kick out of being called that here.) We've been friends for a good while, so I have their favorite drinks memorized.

Except I did not see Big Macintosh where he'd been a moment ago. Oh, well, dude is built like a fridge and every time a little old lady needs something huge hauled to her grannymobile, he's the one they get, so I went and peered through the opener-closer doors. Sure enough, there's Big Mac in his bright-orange hoodie, way out in the far-away where the snowplows haven't even been, talking to someone in a car that's at the end of the most fabulous display of twisty, turny car-tire cursive I have seen this side of a 'Dukes of Hazzard' rerun. You could see from the tracks that this vehicle was either being driven by someone really far Southern who had never seen snow before or had hit the holiday eggnog before getting behind the wheel.

So, being my helpfully helpful self (Applejack and her brother do call me 'Pinkie Pie' sometimes, deservedly,) I started walking across the parking lot to see what was up. A couple of other people, including dear old Fezziwig, who had evidently stopped after work just like I had, were gathering around the spun-out car to see what the eff, and as I got closer I heard them talking.

“Ma'am, you really need to put something in your trunk, then you'll be able to drive safely,” Big Mac told her.

“No, it's a Mercedes. I just need someone to scrape this lot. Can't you call a snowplow?”

“We only have two in town and one's up at the hospital clearing their lot,” a lady in scrubs explained. To be fair, we do not get much snow here normally.

I noticed that the lady in the Mercedes had really-far-Southern plates, that, and she had a sort of elderly, rich, 'my-husband-normally-does-the-driving' look to her. She also had a ritzy-tits attitude that made me kind of want to slug her.

“Well, can't you get some shovels and clear a path for my car?”

“Nope,” said Big Mac. (See what I mean?) “For one thing, it's a liability issue and for another, we sold out of shovels an hour ago. I really do think that some weight in the trunk would put it right, though.”

“Really, ma'am,” Fezziwig agreed. “My other car is just like this and with a rear-wheel drive, you've really got to load the trunk down to drive in snow.”

This is true. Fezziwig has a really cool Mercedes his dad left him, but 99% of the time he just drives his old pickup truck, because he's one of those rare down-to-earth millionaires where you'd seriously never know he employs a ton of people unless somebody called him 'boss' and even then you'd think he was a building contractor or something, to look at him. Dude really does rock the scruffy sometimes.

“No, it's a Mercedes. I'm not putting crap in the trunk. You hicks need to plow this lot!”

Now, that was not fair. Sure, Big Mac has a somewhat...rural accent, and Fezziwig was wearing his flannel shirt because he'd been doing some chores and things at work. He's a good boss who never makes us do a thing he wouldn't do himself and works every holiday so as many employees as possible can be home with their families. And everyone had boots and Carharrts and other sensible work clothes on because A. they're at work, and they dress warmly on snow days, and B. it's not exactly New York City, my location, but it's not Dogpatch, USA, either. (Though I suppose I could call it that...) I'm not from the place myself and my accent sticks out like a sore thumb, but for a rural-ish small town, the people couldn't be nicer and I wouldn't want to live anyplace else except just perhaps back home. 

So I bristled like a pissed cat and walked over.

“Ma'am, is there a problem?” I asked, in my poshest Mid-Atlantic tones, basically my Rarity-sounding 'customer service' voice that covers my real accent.

“Oh, thank God!” the hosebeast cried. “Yes! These people won't call a plow for my car and I need to get back to my hotel!”

That gave me time to notice two things. One, this awful Mercedes-driving custy had a rosary on her rearview mirror, a crucifix on her neck and a St. Christopher medal clanking against it. Every inch of her middle-aged, over-entitled self screamed 'but why do I have to get insurance with birth-control for my employees? Discrimination!' I have relatives on the one side who are just like her. And two, she had a small amount of animal hair on the sleeve of the oh-so-posh black coat that, it must be confessed, really looked a lot like the one I had on. So she was assuming I'd be sympathetic because I looked as glamorously freezing as she did and sounded like I'd just left the country club.

Bitch.

“Actually, I wouldn't try to plow around your car. I mean, supposing the plow were to skid and crash into it? Do you know how much new fenders for a Mercedes cost?”

“Oh, my God!” the lady cried, having clearly not thought of that.

“Exactly! I think that's just Whom we need to involve, don't you? I'm going to tell you what Father Patrick told me for getting home safely in snowstorms, it works simply every time. What he told me to do was go to a store like this one and buy as much clay cat litter and pet kibble as you can fit in your trunk. Simply fill it up! Everything else you bought, just put it on the back seat and trust Jesus. Then you need to say a quick prayer to St. Jerome, and you need to promise that if he gets you through the snowstorm, you'll take the animal things to a shelter and donate them the minute the roads are clear. Your good deed for the animals will be enough to keep the car safe, really, and with the Saint's intervention God will get you right out of this mess. Father Patrick told us all about it in his last Advent homily, how it got him back home from Alaska without a skid.”

“Really?!” the lady cried, clapping her hands together and beaming at me like I'd just made her day. “Do they sell pet supplies here?”

“I just bought a few myself, since it was so snowy,” I gushed.

“Then that's it! Oh, God bless you!”

And with that, she got out of the Mercedes and started slipping and scurrying over the slushy mess back into the Big Boxmart.

“...I didn't know you were Catholic,” Fezziwig observed. “I saw you in church yesterday.”

“I'm not. She is,” I pointed to the rosary on the rearview mirror. “And I've known enough of them to 'speak it.'”

“So there's no Father Patrick?”

“Well, I'm sure there must be at least one priest somewhere called that. None that I know of.”

“And will St. Jerome really protect her car?” Big Mac asked.

“If she promises to take the cat litter she's filled her trunk with to the pet shelter, then possibly.”

“Hooooly shit,” Fezziwig remarked. “So you just...”

“Translated y'all's good advice into 'religious rich-bitch' language? Yeah, pretty much. Us Yankees speak 'stupid' a lot clearer than folks down here. Oh, and I got you this, cause it was such a madhouse in there,” and I gave Big Mac his Coke.

“Welp, I'd better go help her load up all the cat litter. Just sell her the heaviest?”

“Whatever's heavy and cheap. The shelter doesn't like clumping so much as regular, but whatever she wants to buy. And maybe persuade her that the saint will be impressed by senior and kitten chow, they cost more and shelters always need 'em.”

“I know I'm not allowed to ask, but I really have to wonder now...what ARE you, religiously?” Fezziwig asked.

“Isn't it obvious, Boss?” I grinned. “I'm a crazy cat lady.”

And, I thought but did not say out loud, a partly-reformed grifter who's trying her damnedest to be worthy of her second chance. Even around crustys.

 

--Kuroneko4276

 

 

It's Raining Crazy Custys! Hallelujah!

Okay RHU, we survived the Apocalypse of 2012 but now we have another year of retail enslavement to deal with!  For me, it’s this dang gone rain!  What is it with rain that brings out the worst in people?  Here’s another crazy time at the gift store.

We sell cheap ass $9 umbrellas.  I mean bottom of the barrel, break it first time, janky cover-ups that would make Mary Poppins curse up her Supercalifragilisticexpialiodocius chimney sweep ridden mouth.  Anyway, I hate ringing up these things but desperate custys that want coverage from the downpour end up grabbing them up like a bargain basement Black Friday sale.  Then when it craps out, all hell breaks loose!

Custy: I bought this umbrella five minutes ago and it’s defective!  I want my money back!”

Me: Sorry all Sales Final according your receipt and the sign. *points to sign*  I can exchange it for you or give you store credit.

Custy: *RAWR* YOU’RE CHEATING THE CUSTOMER!  YOU SHOULD STAND BY YOUR PRODUCTS!  I WANT A MANAGER!”

Manager tells custy same thing and this goes on repeatedly for each custy that purchased that cheap ass umbrella.  Basically people, you have to spend some extra dough for a good industrial sized umbrella but you get what you pay for!  It’s not my fault you forgot your umbrella at home!  Use that newspaper or a trash bag as a covering!

Then there’s Crazy Lady.  Crazy Lady has a chip on her shoulder and goes to my coworker who is folding shirts and starts a tirade on him.

Crazy Lady: You there!  You should stop doing that!

Coworker: Excuse me?

Crazy Lady: You should stop folding shirts and help me!  You should always help your customers!  Are you new?

Coworker: No.

Crazy Lady: You must be new.  Otherwise, you would know I needed help.

Coworker: (Did she even bother to ask for any or look for someone with a nametag?) Can I help you?

Crazy Lady: You need to help your customers!  I’m looking for something of good quality.  Price doesn’t matter.

Coworker: Are you looking for a shirt, a hoodie, or jacket?

Crazy Lady: YOU’RE NOT LISTENING!  I SAID I NEEDED SOMETHING OF GOOD QUALITY!  PRICE DOESN’T MATTER!

Coworker: Well we have these sweatshirts up here.

CRAZY LADY: THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANT!  I SAID I NEEDED SOMETHING OF GOOD QUALITY!  PRICE DOSEN’T MATTER!  WHERE’S YOUR MANAGER?

Crazy Lady goes to manager who shows her a jacket.  Crazy Lady gets all excited.

Crazy Lady: That’s what I want!  I was looking for a jacket.  *turns to manager* You need to train your employees better.

WTF?  You’re the one who needs a brain replacement!  My coworker asked you what you wanted but you wouldn’t tell us!  We can’t read your mind bitch!  Argh!

Now for something high-larious.  It’s pouring outside and next to our tourist section of town is a city park where local artisans sell their homemade wares.  It also includes so-called psychics offering to do tarot cards and palm readings.  Well one of the psychics who I refer to as Miss Cleo (remember her from the 90’s Psychic Hotline) walks in drenched like a drowned rat.  She goes and buys one of our cheap ass umbrellas.

Miss Cleo: Oh Lord!  It’s raining cats and dogs out there!  I didn’t see it coming.

Uh, you’re a psychic.  You didn’t foresee the weather being rainy?  Did your psychic powers fail you, Sylvia Brown?

She leaves for a minute and comes back with our defective umbrellas.

Miss Cleo: This umbrella doesn’t work!  I need my money back and some extra plastic bags.  My stuff is getting wet outside.

Manager makes an exception and refunds the lady’s $9 but in my head I’m thinking: Obviously the dead people you see hate you.  You would’ve seen the future and known that umbrella you bought was crappy!  Then again I’m psychic too.  I’m predicting that you’re a fake and my palms are telling me to give you the finger!

I wonder if John Edward or Whoopi Goldberg has this problem?

--Queer Geek

McD's Counterfeit Beatdown

It seems that the fast food crazies are at it again. This time over an employee doing their job at checking a $50 for authenticity. 
What is frustrating is that the employee, who did nothing until the customers threatened and attacked him first, was held on $40,000 bail (though not indited), while the customers got off with community service...when none of this would have happened in the first place if the customers had kept their cool and let the guy do his job.


 

 

I know the guy went overboard on his attempt of defending himself. But I find it a bit insulting that the first article focuses on his past criminal record and his actions after the customers hit him first then LEPT OVER THE TABLE AND CHASED HIM.
Then the second article, it seems that they chose not to take the customers to trial was because the video shown above was too strong against them and any evidence in their favor was too circumstantial or unable to be found. (Wouldn't one think those would be *good* reasons to take defendant to trail?)
Then the employee even shows his remorse and better nature by saying he doesn't wish jail time on the customers despite their wish to see him imprisoned.

So, yet again, min-wage employees are verboten from defending themselves, are held under stricter scrutiny when they do, and the offending persons get a pity party for any repercussions they may receive.

Yes Ma'am! May I have another Ma'am? 

Black Friday Custys From Hell: Bloodsucking Mother and Daughter Torment Walgreens Store

From Hellgreens_Slave: 

So all has been well at the Hellgreens.. I was promoted to Assistant Store Manager in June 2010 so I've been super busy! I hope you had a great turkey day - with my seniority I get to have xmas eve, xmas day off, new years eve & new years day off so I had to work thanksgiving which worked out cos I got to wear my turkey hat which kept all the crustys in good spirit because when they're mad & want to yell at a manager & then see my turkey hat they just started laughing LOL!

But I do have some unfortunate news:

Being with Hellgreens for eight years - the last 2 1/2ish of being a manager I've seen some crazies in my day (and I'm only 25! LOL) Some crustys never come back (yay!), others are regulars that are just a bit crazy and then there's this: 

Now, after bouncing around different stores for a few months I was placed in my current store in July 2010. As the manager somehow I manage my staff, Cosmetics & Cafe W SWIS departments, the rest of the store and take care of accounts payable as well as having to deal with the insane people of this town I'm stuck in.. it's not so bad being only a 30 min commute and I try to tell myself it could always get worse until it did. This area is mostly normal, middle-class working people but is about 10 minutes from a super-rich area so we get a random mix of customers and most of my regulars are super awesome.. some even found out my bday and chipped in to get me a card and a small gift each year! It's really awesome having nice customers - nicer than any town I've worked in - for the most part. 

But today I want to share my newest horror crustys.. a mother & daughter duo. 

Now these 2 put my usual crazies to shame!!! So they first came in (to my knowledge since according to some employees that were in the store before I got transfered in these women used to come in all the time & then disappeared until about a week ago!)

And so it begins... I got paged to the photo area for a refund.

The mother greets me with a "Hello sweetie how are you?"

And I processed her refund like any other - during which a girl about my age came up for help on the kiosk. The mother turned to her & asked if we were sisters or mother & daughter (wtf? I'm 25 and have no kids!!! and this girl & I didn't look anything alike!) lol.

So anyways the two women spent about 4 hours harassing my staff with every last insane request. (oh get more from the back - this package looks weird.... where is this? that?) She took three of my employees and made them wait on her hand & foot throughout the store until I quickly broke that up.

So then she started randomly singing songs to some random lady.. grabbed another customer & put her arms around the woman & got nose-to-nose with her while asking her really personal questions until the woman shook her off. She even dropped a bottle of nail polish all over our newly waxed floors and over her daughter's pants.

My photo tech filled me in that the day before (when I was off) they had come in & spent hours harassing everyone, had called him a jerk, had told our Hallmark lady she needed anger management and flipped on people for not saying, "Yes ma'am, No ma'am" to her, SMFH.

Finally she was ready to be rung up. OH LORD. She made my cashier ring her $600 worth of crap up in separate transactions.. and then inquired about a movie that's official release date was in 2 days. Now when a movie is set to release on a Tuesday we put it on display starting Sunday with a sign up saying "this may not be sold until XXXXXX date" and no one ever argues except this crusty.

She wanted that damn movie and wouldn't accept that when it's scanned the register tells us "ITEM MAY NOT BE SOLD UNTIL XX DATE" so of course I get paged up front - now I had four registers going and about 40 people in lines/shopping around up front.

I get to the register they're at & she's screaming at my cashier over the stupid movie. I tell her that the official release date isn't until the date on the sign right by them on the shelf behind the register & that there's no override function for it & that she'd have to come back & that we'd gladly hold a copy for her if she'd like.

Of course she didn't accept this & then her face got all red, her breathing all heavy, cheeks puffed out and then she started to cry like a baby who has a wet diaper - through tears & sobs this 70something y/o lady started to cry hysterically while gasping out a "but Hellgreens_Slave, baby, doll, sweetheart I need this movie for a little girl... wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Ok. People that know me know that I DO NOT tolerate "bullshit crying" from anyone over the age of 10. If you're crying over a death in the family, a tragedy, a super sad movie.. ok I can relate & understand but crying because the movie can't be legally sold for another few days is just ridiculous & if the powers were vested in me I'd give her something to actually cry about. SMH so I turned to her & said, "Ma'am the movie cannot be sold until XX date, there's no override for this & crying is NOT going to change that," and calmly walked away to the office to laugh my ass off.

So, a few days went by & I thought we were in the clear - until about 0900 today. All I know is I was working in an aisle one minute & the next hearing "Hellgreens_Slave where are youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu?!?!?!?!" in that all too familiar voice.

I attempted to hide in the pharmacy for a bit but that plan got foiled when I got paged up front for some codes - and then got stuck with her for ten minutes.. all the while she had a disposable camera & was trying to get me to let her take my picture until I literally had to pawn her off on one of the employees so I could duck out & take refuge in the office.

Luckily, they left after only an hour. The weird part is the daughter seems so normal & polite.. said hello, asked how my turkey day was, and thanked me for helping her find something.... except my co-manager told me the daughter told him his pants are too low in the back - which is odd since he wears a belt so obviously she just checks him out (kinda gross cos she's like 40 and he's 19.)

The mother wanted a train set which one of the guys had to get a ladder out to get off a deck - they're stacked up with one faced forwards - well she didn't want the one on the top of the pile nor the one in the front - he had to pull 36 of the them down for one in the middle that she wanted & then she ended up not even buying it.

Then, she walked around wearing a holiday hat she never ended up buying, either. She made my beauty advisor wait on her hand & foot and kept trying to shove that damn camera in my employee's faced.

AHHH! What's worse is I can deal with the occasional angry customer but this monster of a crusty will never stop coming in & thinks it's perfectly fine to harass my staff because she spends like $1,000+ a week in our store, HAHAHA.

I can't wait to find a reason to ban her! Which, sadly, corporate will probably find out about & will punish me for.

ARGG. Can it get worse?

I hope not. 

--Hellgreens_Slave