Greetings Curious Scroller,
If you've never landed in this part of cyber space before, you have taken a hard, fast plunge into the fiery depths of work hell. RHU is dedicated to giving the service worker a voice. If you are an angry customer, a corporate suite, a homophobic race-hater, and you don't like skull masks or swear words, this blog isn't for you. Click away now, before your ears bleed and your eyes explode.
I'm Freddy, Crypt Keeper of Retail Hell Underground RHU -- a place for service slaves to have a voice, tell their story, support each other, or just have a chuckle about the insanity of working in the 10th Circle of Hell! I'm also the author of "Retail Hell," the funny memoir about life as a handbag sales associate at an upscale department store! The sequel, "Return To The Big Fancy," has just been released in hardcover and e-reader and is available wherever books are sold!
I have been suffering Anticipatory Grief for weeks, knowing the Christmas retail season was around the corner. It's supposed to be a happy time of the year, and several major religions celebrate holidays of deep, inspiring meaning to elevate humanity. But shoppers exhibit their most rotten, petty behavior at this time of the year.
We get beaten up all day. It's hard to take. I remember working Christmas Eve last year, and feeling like a drowning rat with people shooting bb pellets at my face. Three people were kind and said nice things to me, and I actually broke down and cried to be the object of kindness.
We are one of the businesses that stays open latest on Christmas Eve. I can understand people having been unable to finish their shopping in time, but do I deserve to be the object of their wrath?
Ten Minutes to Close: "Christ! I can't imagine how picked over this place is? I don't see ANYTHING I want." "I don't know what to get for Grandma, so I guess I'll try a parakeet. Can I return it (in the frigid weather) if she doesn't like it?"
We see our busiest times and longest lines. Entitled Suburban Mom was making a large purchase of an aquarium and all the fixins, and laid lots of large items - tank, 6 large bags of gravel. etc on our only check out counter, and we were ringing her up. Another Mom she knew walked into the store, and they started chatting, and faced away from the register.
As we had a long line waiting, I suspended the ticket and without saying a word started to move stuff off the main counter so I could ring someone else up. Entitled Suburban Mom saw and shrieked, "EXCUSE ME! EXCUUUUSE ME! I am a CUSTOMER, and I am trying to spend MONEY at your business. I am NOW having a conversation with a friend of mine! Treat me with respect."
I gave my sweetest smile and in my most cheerful voice said, "I meant no disrespect. I'll just have your stuff here whenever you're ready to check out."
I rang up people for about 10 minutes before she was through conversing with her friend, and the other customers had to line up around them, because they wouldn't leave the counter. And I'm the bad guy? Well - at least she didn't call the owner to complain about me.
Yes, I am a punching bag for bitches and bastards on the holiest night of the year, but the managers always take the night off, and the owner wants every penny he can get, and our instructions are to let people talk any way they want to us.
--Polo-Necked Strip Mall Monkey
We are located in a strip mall near a Panera, so we get a lot of "caf-fiend" entitled suburban Moms who like to toy with their cornered prey, the Retail Slave.
We really do try our best to serve people. 6 Footer Loudmouth Well-Off Suburban Mom's cat just had kittens, and she wanted a high quality food that all of her 8 cats could eat, instead of Kitten food for 4, Adult for 2, Hairball for 1, and Senior for 1. The manager talked to her at length, suggested several of our all-life-stages premium brands, and 6 Footer Loudmouth Well-Off Suburban Mom selected one of them. Yes, it's a pricey food, but it is high quality, and we and the manufacturers stand by them.
About a month later, she stormed into the store in a livid fury. Her family of cats would not eat the food. Not only that, but she accidentally left the bag outside, and "not even the f***ing raccoons would touch it." She said she was "tired of being sold shit" and that we didn't know what we were talking about. The cats ate Friskies! Friskies is a better food than anything we sell! The manager adopted an appeasing tone, took the bag back, talked to her a little bit more, and sent her home with a sample of another high quality food to try before she would buy.
She called back in a joyous mood, and said the new food was a big hit, and thanked us profusely for all our help. She came back, but we don't stock it in a bag over 12 lbs. "F***!" She was furious because she has so many cats and obviously needs a big bag! We offered to obtain it ASAP. It fell to me to call her to let her know it was in. I reached her voice mail. It played ambient music as she left instructions about leaving a message, and ended with her saying, "Have a good day. Namaste." Namaste is a Sanskrit word most Moms know from yoga class. It translates as "The divine light in me honors the divine light in you." I was a little taken aback that such a foul-mouthed, aggressive she-wolf used a spiritual greeting, when she is so hostile. I mentioned it to the manager, and she too was stunned, and replied, "She needs to do more yoga to work on her anger."
That was two months ago. As far as we knew, she was okay. She stormed into the store yesterday, and wanted something we do not carry. She was furious! Her temper was so hot it probably made her skim milk chai latte boil. But it is the only thing all of her cats eat!
"This is bulls***!"
The manager said she thought the second food had worked.
"Don't change the subject! You don't have what I want! All you do is sell me s*** not even the f***ing raccoons will eat!"
Then she pointed to a bag on the shelf and said, "S***! I can buy that for $10 less at PETCO/Petland/!" (Not true)
So she stormed out in a fury, outraged. I gave her my usual departing greeting, which is, "Enjoy the rest of your day." To her credit, she did not go nuclear, but thanked me and wished me the same.
It's okay to behave this way in public? She thinks she's a good, highly evolved person but treats well-meaning people this way? Are we such bad people that we deserve to be treated this way? Seriously?
--Polo-Necked Strip Mall Monkey
I was describing my lovebird, who happens to be a blue mutation, masked lovebird.
(Because I know people will want to see him, I've included a picture.) But when describing him, I say he has a "black face, white collar, blue body and purple spot on his tail."
Boy if you ever want to set people off, say "black" and "face" together. Holy shit, you'd think I said the N word in public.
It was something along the lines of:
Custy: "Don't say Black Face! That's racist! How can you be in public when you use that language!"
Me: "Ma'am, I was talking to the cashier who inquired about my birdseed purchase. I have a lovebird. I was describing his colors to her."
Custy: "And you responded with a racist slur?!"
Custy: "You can't say that!"
Me: "...I just did. Get over it."
Then I paid for my birdseed and walked away before the urge to slap her till she smartened up made me spend the next two years assaulting her.
1) While he's my feather-baby, he's also just an animal; not a person of ethnicity.
2) It's used as a descriptive term, not an ethnic slur.
3) "black mask" and "looks like he's wearing a black hood" doesn't seem to piss people off any less (black hood = hoodie = Travon Martin? Which makes me George Zimmerman? IDK...)
Da fuq? He's certainly going to be more offended by his toys than he is about what words I use to describe him... Seriously, when he plays with his toys it sounds like he's getting the crap kicked out of him. The ranting and raving makes it sound like a miniature brawl is happening.
Does anybody get these people when talking about your dogs or cats or bunnies? "Don't call him a "black" Lab! That's racist! Call him a "dark Lab!"
May all your customers have a brain,
Well that's just... fantastic. Ugh~
Well now children, there's someone I'd like you to meet. Meet Hatred of A Thousand Suns. Hatred of A Thousand Suns, meet the children. Hatred, do NOT be gentle.
What is with the people who want to run out to their cars to get 4 cents?? Its been happening to me a lot lately.
I work at a home store that sells things for your bed, your bath, and more.... This morning I had a guy who's total came up to $15.04. He handed me a $50 than said he needed to run out to his car to get the $.04.
Meanwhile, I have a line of 4-5 customers waiting on this idiot. So annoying.
Sir, on one hand I salute you for speaking up about her whiny, entitled bullshit. On the other hand, I kind of wish you hadn't, since all you did was rile her up and make her get even more hissy and bitchy for the entire plane trip. You fired the first volley, and you kept going at it, even though everyone else was trapped in the plane with you and had to deal with the hostilities that you were aggravating. Please don't do that unless other people have venues of escape.
This extremely passive-aggressive airplane feud is one for the ages.
It took place on Thanksgiving Day between a middle-aged woman known as "Diane" and a righteously-indignant TV producer, Elan Gale, who live-tweeted the entire hilarious, maddening encounter as it happened.
The saga began when the US Airways flight to Phoenix was delayed at takeoff:
Had the strangest experience. Out getting fro-yo before work. The frozen yogurt shop is this tiny place with the dispensers in the back, toppings at the register and the counter clerk cashiering. Seating is outside. Other than that there's not much room when it gets crowded. A custy in a wheelchair blocks the area between the counter and the dispensers. I wait patiently by the door so she can finish her transaction. A group of teenage girls are paying for their dessert and one accidentally bumps against the side of the woman's wheelchair.
Custy: WATCH IT! CAN'T YOU SEE PERSON IN A WHEELCHAIR HERE? THAT'S SO RUDE!
Teenage Girl: *blushes and apologizes* I'm sorry. It was an accident.
Girls leaves, and the custy goes to pay for her fro-yo and unblocks the dispensers. I grab my meal and wait behind the disabled woman. After paying for her dessert, she spends the next two minutes counting each coin of change on the counter while I wait until she finishes. She finally does and the clerk rings me up. As I'm sitting outside, another group of patrons enter while this custy lingers by the counter. I watch as one of the patrons accidentally brush against the side of the wheelchair woman. Custy flips out on the patron.
Custy: CAN'T YOU SEE A PERSON IN A WHEELCHAIR HERE? HOW INCONSIDERATE!
Patron apologizes in embarrassment and goes to grab their frozen yogurt.
I'm observing the disabled custy from outside, and she does not leave. She loiters inside annoying the hell out of the clerk and asking stupid questions while blocking the entire entryway of the store and terrorizing other customers.
Is it me or does this person feel the need to use her disability as an excuse?
I WISH I had photographic evidence of the absolute HELL that happens around Christmas, but I'm sure ya'll have seen it once or twice in your retail lives. For those of you who are lucky enough to NOT have been in the Toys/Holidays section of a retail store the DAY BEFORE Christmas, let me explain.
Every aisle starts at 5 am perfectly organized, each toy or card or bow placed directly above (on shelves) or under (on hooks) the price tag. Every item is perfectly aligned, pulled to the front for better viewing, and every trash can (located right by the price scanner) completely empty. Every person that is available is scheduled to work from the earliest time they are available to the latest they are available: it was in fact the only 10-hour-shift I've ever had in my entire life, and by the time it was done, I called my aged 21+ friends to get me illegally drunk.
We opened earlier than usual, and all the employees were in a group 10 minutes before opening to discuss our locations. There was a line (or rather, a mob) at the doors. A few people were yelling through the doors things like "I see you in there!", "Let me in!", and "I know you're open!"
I watched in despair as my more fortunate comrades were assigned electronics, market, clothes, jewelry, registers... and then I heard my name: Assigned to Toys/Holidays. I immediately wished I either had 6 arms or a pound of pot, because the next 10 hours were going to be filled with little hellions and the repeated call of "Can you price check this for me?" Reshop/Go-Backs would be hell the day after Christmas, which, by the way, I also had the pleasure of working. But let me continue to the story.
It starts by the Christmas trees. We have about 15 trees, and about 10 of each left, except the most popular one, in which only the floor model remains, with a sign clearly stating "Sold OUT! =) Sorry!" An older gentleman approaches it, picks up the sign, reads it, puts it back down, then looks around.
He spots me. "Miss?" he asks politely, "Do you have any more of these in the back?"
I reply that I'm sooooo sorry, but unfortunately we do not, but is there anything else I could possibly help you find? "Well... can I have the floor model?"
I respond again that I'm sooooooo sorry, but unfortunately it is not our tree, and it has to be returned, so it is unavailable to sell- but can I help you find anything else?
He replies no, and walks off. I wander over to the Barbie section because the Hannah Montana dolls are a "big hit" and there are always about 12 women and their hellspawn needing help in there.
Forty minutes of I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT and an intense hatred of the Disney Channel later, I am walking over to the trees again, making my rounds. I stop dead when I see the older gentleman walking away, with the floor model I told him he COULD NOT HAVE stuffed into his cart. Rather than get involved (since there were about 12 people within earshot all asking for help), I paged my manager, telling him that a customer had a NOT-for-sale floor model tree and was heading toward registers.
Mental note: bigger signs next year.
Halfway through the day, I legitimately wanted to kill myself. I went on break, had some coffee and chocolate, a cigarette, and did my exercises. I head back in, and am this close to crying. There are piles of clothing on top of the trees; empty CD cases on the floor and in the garbage; a MASSIVE soda spill that apparently happened because a cup tipped over in a shopping cart and leaked through 6 different aisles; Barbie clothes ripped out of packages; magazines torn to shreds; broken ornaments; and Christmas card boxes EVERYWHERE. It looked as though the customers had just shaken the risers until everything fell off, then went swimming/chewing through them. And whose job was it to clean up? MINE.
Now, and for as long as I live, I will never again work the day before Christmas in a retail store. Unless I'm being paid $20 an hour.
So, no great or humorous conclusion to that one, but I just needed to rant about it. Please, please, PLEASE, if you MUST wait until the last minute to do your Christmas shopping, can you just TRY to not destroy things!? We had to damage out about $6,000 worth of inventory in one night. And can you guess who got "let go" the week after? Yeah.--Sub Shop Slut Chris
I have worked in retail (same store) for ten years. Every year the customers seem to get worse, especially (obviously!) at Christmas. So, I've taken to venting with a nice letter. Here is Christmas' offering...
Dear Christmas Shoppers...
So. We meet again. I am vastly amused by the fact that you haven't been to the mall since this time last year. Just like the other 200+ people who have told me exactly the same tale.
You are also easily the 100+ person to say "I can't believe how busy it is!"...WHY precisely can you not believe, in the middle of December, that a 200+ store shopping center is busy? What, did you think you were the only person who woke up this morning and thought "Hey, nearly Christmas, better go shopping?"
A "hello", "excuse me" or even a polite cough is a nice way to announce your presence, should you feel it necessary to do so. Walking in and declaring "Keyboard books! ...." is not. Do you walk into a supermarket and yell "Beans!" and just expect to be led to the correct aisle?! Actually, you probably do. @$$.
Being a lowly shop assistant, I have no responsibility over the plumbing. I realise that the toilets opposite our unit were closed for a whole 2.5 days. You think it's inconvenient for you as you pass through? Try spending 8-12hrs here in one go. However, I read the sign outside. I realise that you were too lazy to walk all that way, and it was quicker to nip into my shop/shout over the cabinet from outside, but had you bothered to walk an extra 20 paces, the sign would have also told you where the nearest working facilities were, ie, up one escalator, about 200ft away.
An important shop assistant calculation should be noted here. I'll even illustrate it for you:
For example, if you politely enquire where the nearest toilets are, I will tell you to head up the escalator and turn right. If you storm in, loudly demand "What's up with them, then?" and then proceed to loudly complain and demand directions as if I personally broke the toilets, I WILL direct you on a 10 minute walk to the furthest toilets in the centre.
If you have a perfectly good copy of a book in your hand, don't ask me for another because "it's a gift, this one's been flicked through." I put the book out minutes before you arrived. The flicker in question was YOU. I also will not discount the book for the same reason. I will order you another copy in, if you feel the one in your hand is not satisfactory. It will be exactly the same, but what the hell. It means that you have to make another trip to shopping hell, so if you really want to do that, even closer to Christmas, who am I to argue?!
Customer: "Do you have another copy of this book?"
Me: "No we haven't, what seems to be the problem with that one?"
Customer: "Well, it's been out. It's for a gift, I want a perfect copy. They have to have a perfect copy if it's for a gift."
Me: "No we don't seem to have another. I can order a new copy in for you?"
Customer: "Can't I just have a discount on this one? I'll take it if you reduce it."
I'm sure your precious relative would be overjoyed to know that you will sacrifice their perfection requirements for a 50p discount.
Whilst we're talking about your relatives...they are precisely that: YOUR relatives. I don't know your sister-in-law/child/father/Aunt/second-cousin's adopted Ugandan orphan, or whoever else you are shopping for. I don't know if they would use a plectrum keyring, or a music-themed notepad. I don't know if they would wear treble clef patterned socks, heck, I don't actually know if they even have both feet.* Asking me these questions is pointless, and wastes both of our time.
Telling me their age is about as useful as telling me their shoe size when it comes to "helping" you to choose a music book. Essentially without knowing what instrument they play and having a vague notion of what musical genres they like, I can't help you. Some 15 year old boys like Metallica, some like Mozart, some like Michael Buble. I don't know which catagory yours falls into. You really should know, or at least ask someone who does.
I also cannot find the book they have asked for without a title or band. Asking me for "...a yellow one" does not help. I cannot search our database by colour of cover. Getting irritated with me will not help to ease your stupidity, nor will repeating "It's yellow!" in louder and louder tones. In fact, repeating anything at me in louder and louder tones will not help. Just because you have a name for something, it does not mean that I use that name, or understand what you are talking about, especially if the name is a word you have made up. Charades do not always help. You can stop miming now.
Bands these days have stupid names. I realise this. You don't need to call me over and tell me each time you find a stupidly named band. When it is mid-November and the shop is heaving I have neither the time nor the inclination to stand at the T-shirt rack and give you a history and back catalogue of every band featured therein, from Cannibal Corpse to Thin Lizzy and all genres in between. If the person you're buying for hasn't expressed a liking for thrashing death metal, buying a random T-shirt with a design that would scare small children is probably not the best idea.
Nor can I "sing a bit of one of their songs" for you to help you make up your mind. It sounds like a drumkit falling downstairs whilst a bear throws up. Does that help? May I also remind you once again that I have never met the person you are shopping for. Thus asking "Would the large fit him, do you think, or would medium be better?" is pointless. Maybe bringing in a recent photo of him standing next to something of regulation size, like a post box for example (as people who are selling things on eBay take a photo next to a coin or a ruler to give some idea of size), would enable me to contribute to the Great Size Debate.
"It's all noise to me!" isn't funny or helpful the first time you hear it. You were not the first.
* Speaking of missing limbs, you cannot phone up and ask me "do you sell anything that will help a person with one arm play the violin?" and not expect follow-up questions, such as "Which arm are they missing?" I am not being funny, nor am I asking out of morbid curiosity. I am attempting to help you. You were the one who phoned me with the stupid question in the first place.
This should be obvious. It appears not to be. If the person you love just HAS to have the most popular book of the year, don't wait until three/two/ONE day before Christmas, and then be outraged/upset/shocked that we don't have it. Ditto the fact that we cannot, at 9pm on December 23rd, order a copy in just for you. Don't tell me Amazon could get you one. If they can, by all means order one when you get home. But they can't. Like our suppliers, Amazon does not whisk books to you via teleporter in the wink of an eye.
And, about the whole online thing. Of course you can buy whatever we have cheaper online elsewhere. Online doesn't have to staff 13hrs per day. It doesn't have to pay extortionate rents. We do. We don't price-match. You don't need to queue up especially to tell me that you've seen the item in your hand cheaper online, and then leave said item on the counter for me to put away.
If you come into the shop and tell me that "I'd like to try that guitar. I'm not going to buy it here, I've seen it cheaper online but I want to try one before I order it."
Then I WILL say no. Go ahead, call me a bitch. E-mail the internet retailer, and ask to try theirs. You can't? They don't do that? Well there's one reason it's cheaper then. They don't have to pay a member of staff to humour assholes like you who ask to try stuff they tell me they're going to buy somewhere else. And, might I add, DUH.
You do not qualify for a discount for:
Babies...Don't expect me to watch your children. You spawn it, you watch it. We are not a creche. Unattended children will be sold to the circus. You will not be recompensed. If I peek into your push chair I assure you it's only out of mild curiosity, not an offer to babysit, nor do I need to know their sleeping regime, when/what they last ate, or if they need changing. To be honest, I'm probably just looking in case you have something freaky-looking in there so that I can alert the rest of the staff to go and have a look. At such times of high stress we're grateful for a giggle. Also, the freaky-looking ones fetch the best prices at the circus.
Don't tell me that your little darling who is wrecking my shop "...has ADHD, he can't help it..." What he has is a massive bag of sweets in one hand, and a bottle of fizzy orange pop in the other. That many E-numbers would make a sloth hyperactive. If you're not going to tell them off for swinging off £300+ instruments, rest assured that I will. Would you rather I discipline your child, or charge you £300+ for the damage they do? Because it's one or the other.
Before asking the question, "Are you busy?" please take a moment to actually LOOK AT ME and make an informed decision as to whether your question is necessary. Chances are if I am up a ladder, have a 20W amplifier under each arm, am mid-conversation with a customer, on the telephone, processing a credit card transaction, or with a sales rep, then yes, I AM busy. Heaven help you, you might just have to queue with everyone else.
We open 9am-10pm. SELECTED stores are open until 12am. We are not a selected store. We close at 10pm. You can find this information out online, over the phone, or by asking. Don't find out by wandering into the shop for a browse at 9:57pm and getting pissed when we politely ask you if we can help you find anything, as we close in three minutes. We are not going to change our policy because you would like to wait in our shop for your wife who's in the baby clothes shop opposite. Also, if you have been in our shop repeatedly during my 12hr shift and haven't bought the three plectrums you desperately need, don't come in at 9:57pm and expect me to be overjoyed to see you. If 13hrs are not enough for you to do your shopping, perhaps you should consider the wonderful world of 24hr online shopping, and leave me the hell alone.
You want an item. We have ordered aforementioned item for you, promised to phone you when it arrives, and given you an approximate date for delivery, which is still a week away. There is no need to phone up on an hourly basis to see if your item has arrived, and attempt to keep us on the phone for at least ten minutes each time. You ordered it yesterday. We said a week. Hence, it is not here today. No, I will not "phone around them all and see who has it" because I don't know which Courier service the supplier uses. I will not phone the supplier to find out who they shipped it with, because it is literally one of a million items they have shipped. I realise that "It's his main present!" I also realise that "he" is your 50 year old father, and that I am not toying with the seasonal happiness of a small child by refusing to waste my day chasing your item which WILL (and did) arrive before Christmas. I am, however, more and more tempted with each phone call to donate your item to charity the second it arrives, just to teach you a lesson in patience.
Don't ask me if I think you are/your question is stupid. It's the 2Xth of December. Honesty may outweigh politeness at this stage. Politeness is actually very important. Hence I politely request that you remove your iPod headphones (*gasp* BOTH of them) before attempting to have a conversation with me. Don't leave both headphones in and repeatedly yell "PARDON?!" at me.
On the subject of manners: phones. Quick rule of thumb:
If it would be inappropriate to take out a newspaper and begin to do the crossword, it is inappropriate to get out and begin using your phone.
I.e., if I am mid-sentence, do not answer your phone without saying "excuse me" and have a 10min conversation about so-and-so's drunken antics the night before whilst expecting me to wait for you to finish instead of serving other people. Don't come to the counter to purchase something mid-pointless-conversation. Don't talk about me to the person on the other end of the phone during pointless conversation. Yes, "the shop girl" is glaring at you.
There is a reason for that. Hang up your phone, and I might tell you what it is. I shouldn't need to tell you the reason why you shouldn't be wandering around a shopping center holding your iPhone in your hand, but talking on a hands-free earpiece. The reason is that you look like a) a total douchebag, and b) a crazy person who is talking to themselves. I also shouldn't need to tell you why attempting to serve someone whilst they are talking to someone else on a hands-free earpiece is never going to be a pleasant experience for anyone, but here goes...I CAN'T TELL WHICH ONE OF US YOU ARE TALKING TO. You are looking at me all the time. You are talking to both me, and the person in your ear. There are many and varied reasons why one, both or indeed all three of us are going to end up pissed off in this scenario.
Bear in mind, when you storm into my shop in the couple of days before Christmas, brandishing your attitude problem like an offensive weapon, that I have the items that your children are demanding. In effect, I stand between you and a peaceful Merry Christmas. I have what you need. Even Amazon cannot help you now. Therefore it is in your best interests to BE NICE. Then I am nice, and you have half a chance that your children will be placated and in turn, nice.
Merry Freakin' Christmas.
--UK Music Store Slave
Finally got to experience one of *those* crustys today at the grocery store checkout. Ugh!
I have 4 items, get in the 15-items-or-less line, one person ahead of me and Jerk Guy checking out. Realize that he has three jammed-full large cloth bags of groceries.
But .... he had a way around the 15-or-less rule. He had the clerk ring up each bag individually and repack it, paying for each as he went along. He gets to the end of the second bag, THEN started paging through the newspaper ad to find the coupons he needed to use. THEN he found he had gotten the wrong brand of canned goods, so had to have those taken off. Finally, he started to pay, but had to go through 3 outside pockets, then take off his coat to get to his pant pocket to get the exact change! And there was still a full bag to go....
By this time I had moved to another line with 4 people in front of me. I was done checking out before he ever got to the third bag! Poor clerk. So glad I work in a hotel and not retail!
From NBC Chicago:
"If you don't belong here don't park here," Bogdan said.
That message was heard loud and clear Friday as police made sure holiday shoppers weren't taking advantage of parking spots designated for the disabled.
One parking violator was seen leaving his wife's car with her disabled placard in the window, but she wasn't with him, as required by law.
When police ticketed the vehicle, they discovered the placard in the window actually expired three years ago.
"I got bad knees too," the driver said. "[My wife] was supposed to be with me, but she's in pain so I had to do the shopping for her. So its not that I'm trying to take advantage of the spot."
As for why the man was using an expired placard, he said the updated sign was recently lost.
Police were on the lookout for parking violators as part of a weekend long crackdown on people abusing disabled parking laws this holiday shopping season. The enforcement blitz had local and Secretary of State police patrolling several malls and parking areas near the Water Tower.
"As a person with a disability and father of three small children it's very frustrating when I need to use these accessible parking spaces and they've been taken by someone who doesn't belong parking in those spots," said Disability Liaison to Governor Pat Quinn Bill Bogdan.
Violating the Illinois law could lead to fines of up to $500 and suspended driving privileges for up to 6 months.
"I'm sorry," said one ticketed driver.
I don't even know where to start about today. I apologize for the rambling.
Had a local restaurant place a HUGE order with deli, bakery and meat depts. She called on Mon to place the orders. Fast forward to today.
This woman was your worst nightmare. She went through each department picking up her orders. Mind you as the perishable manager I was overseeing everything. Everything is loaded on to a 6 wheeler for us to follow her to the check stand and have a carryout help her load it in to her truck.
This woman cuts in front of 5 people in lines at the check stand hands the cashier her tickets and says, "Hurry up I am ready to pay."
She then belittles and insults the carryout (found this out later), and I am thankful she is gone. About a 1/2 hour later I get a call-it's her! This woman is screeching and yelling at me that nothing is right. The rolls are too big, not enough cheese, the deli trays are too small, and the list goes on!
Finally after 15 minutes of listening to her yelling and me and the store manager over the phone we asked her what she would like us to do to "make it right". Her answer remake EVERYTHING, Do it in a 2 hour time frame, refund all $250 and then hand deliver to her business 18 miles away from the store.
If we weren't going to do that then she would report us to BBB. My store manager caved. So the busiest day in the grocery business I literally RAN my ass off helping these departments redo ALL these orders. One of the kids in the deli lives near the restaurant and offered to deliver it.
My store manager was SO thankful that we all stayed late to cater to this psycho that he paid all of us double pay. I hope we NEVER have to deal with this business again. $500 down the drain!
Dear Black Friday (and Thanksgiving) Shoppers... ‘Tis that time of year again. You know, the time where retail workers feel like they are in the middle of the end of the world...and the looting has started. Because we have numerous stores in Brimfield offering Black Friday door busters and neatly wrapped surprise unveilings of "oh so good" deals...we thought we would offer some sage advice and observations, to assist you in having the best shopping experience possible.
• Sgt. Knarr and I once witnessed a melee over a $5.00 pair of Hello Kitty pajamas. It was the same year that "oh so good" price on crockpots nearly caused me to call in an air strike. I would wear footy pajamas, but I would not beat someone up to get them.
• If you are somewhere camping out right now waiting on doors to open... And you are reading this message, please do the following math: Money saved versus money lost from not working/ vacation used. If there is a zero in the money lost/work ratio, I just don't get it.
• If you do not think zombies are real, please meet me at Wal-Mart. You have obviously never stood between a crowd of people who really want a $20.00 Blu-Ray player and a skid full of those very same Blu-Ray players. It brings to mind Shark Week. I'm the diver, holding a side of raw beef...and I have no cage.
• Ladies...I'm sorry, but you all are the worst. There is some kind of super shopper effect that takes over...it's like Rambo with a debit card. You are the true hunters and gatherers. The ladies come in dressed in camouflage, wearing a flash dance headband and carrying a survival knife, complete with a compass. They use the compass and store map to find the cordless drills...which are door busters. If they somehow get wounded, they will give themselves stitches and keep shopping.
• If we say settle down, please do so. We would like to have one year of no ejections from the stores. Think of it this way...If Wal-Mart asks you to leave the store...land sakes.
• I'm not sure Black Friday was named such because retail stores get "in the black" from all of the sales. Based on personal experience, I believe it should be renamed "Black Eye Friday."... "Just Sayin"
• Do not bring young children to Black Friday sales. We need to break the cycle. If you bring them, you lose all credibility when you later tell them to "stop fighting over that toy."
We hope you all have a fun and safe expedition...Chief Oliver.
I love it. :)