For the past two and a half years, I've been asking my managers if I can be moved from the front end (cashier) to another department. Layaway, sporting goods, electronics, shoes, grocery, domestics - whatever. And for two and a half years, I've been completely and totally ignored.
Finally I left a note for my boss a month ago that I wanted to be moved before my 21st birthday because there is no fucking way in hell I'm ringing up alcohol. (The note I left had a slightly lesser amount of intense description.) After discussing with her my moral objections to doing so, she finally, finally, FINAL- FUCKING- LY moved me.
So now I'm in fashions - fashion accessories, to be more specific.
Except we're doing inventory and I can't do anything without an LRT which means I can pretty much not learn that department for three weeks. The person who is teaching me the department is retiring in four weeks. Awesome.
Anyway, onto the story... on Tuesday, my second day working in ladieswear, I was wearing the walkie talkie and carrying the fitting room keys for someone who went on break. I got a page to the fitting room and the lady said to me, "I need this shirt in a size Medium."
"We do have them in medium, yes."
"Well can you get it for me? I have other clothes to try on."
Now I'm thinking, what the heck? Well, okay, at least she's considering buying it.. even if she is kind of a jerk.
I returned with the shirt, and when I returned, she was picking out a couple outfits for her two-year-old who I didn't notice before. I handed her the shirt and she grabbed it from me and said, "Oh, by the way there are clothes in my dressing room."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought I cleaned out the dressing rooms ten minutes ago... maybe it was longer than that."
"No, I tried them on, I just need them out of the dressing room before I try on anything else. I don't like stepping on messes."
Lo and behold, I walked into the dressing room and there were shirts, pants, and bathing suits on the floor, rumpled, and not one thing was on a hanger.
I removed the clothes without a thanks and disabled the fitting room button until my co-worker got back from her break.
With retail hell love,