This story of a rampaging Rhinoceros ends with the grandest retail balls award ever given, and we are honored to share this glorious telling of a rude, Entitled Crusty getting told.
I was working in a toy store at the local mall a few years back. In and of itself the job was a nightmare-- tyrannical manager, half-senile mall walkers, teenage mall rat thieves, and the always thrilling experience of dealing with a high volume of small children-- but my coworkers were great, and since I worked evenings, I rarely had too much to deal with.
I show up for my evening shift one day, and the woman who worked mornings let me know about how sales had been, etc, just small talk. Then she points to a bag behind the register that contains EXACTLY ONE ITEM and says, "A customer forgot her crayons when she left the store, Herr Manager says to hold on to them until the morning."
"Righty-o," I say.
"Also, Other Coworker called in sick, I'm afraid you're alone here tonight."
"Righty-o again," I say, less pleased but oh well, it's a weeknight and mall traffic will be low. I'll manage.
She leaves, I start tidying up, putting out new product, etc.
Then the phone rings.
"Welcome to Toy Store, may I help you?"
From the other end of the line reverberates a heavy breathing, like that of a rhinoceros moments before the charge. Mildly annoyed, assuming it's just a creepy prank call, I repeat my greeting.
"Y'ALL HAVE MY CRAYONS," snarls the rhinoceros.
Crayons? Crayons? Ah yes. I check the bag behind the register. "I see that we do, ma'am. Would you like us to--"
Rhinoceros: "I'M TRYIN' TO GET OUT OF TOWN."
Me: "I am sorry for the inconvenience, ma'am. If you like I can hold them--"
Rhinoceros: "I'M TRYIN' TO GET OUT OF TOWN."
Me: "We can hold them for you until you return--"
Rhinoceros: "Y'ALL NEED TO GIVE ME MY PROPERTY."
I check the price on the crayons, just to make sure what the fuss is about. Yes, under five dollars, just as I suspected. I attempt to repeat our policy to her again, so she knows that we'll hold the crayons indefinitely until she can pick them up. (Yes, it was a stupid policy.)
At this point the rhino-bitch begins SCREAMING at me about how "Y'ALL HAVE MY PROPERTY," and "Y'ALL ARE A BUNCH OF THIEVES," and "I NEED TO HAVE THEM CRAYONS TONIGHT."
I'm ready to hang up on her-- instead I ask, sugar dripping from my voice, what exactly she would like me to do.
Rhinoceros: "Y'ALL NEED TO DROP THEM OFF AT MY HOUSE BECAUSE I NEED TO HAVE THEM TONIGHT."
Me: "Ma'am, that is impossible. I am the only employee here, and I am not allowed to leave."
She hung up. I breathed a sigh of relief, but all too soon.
Yes, this woman who was so desperate to get out of town turned her damn car around and drove however many miles BACK TO THE MALL to lambast me. I knew her as soon as she walked in-- the aura of entitlement that radiated off her, the granny perm, the sour look-- and without a word handed her the crayons.
Her property was in her hand. Nothing prevented her from leaving. Instead she proceeded to stand in front of my register and tell me off, so loudly that I could see people in the mall hallway turn to stare, about what a lazy slut I was and how I didn't understand the value of work and how she would never be shopping here again (oh, SUCH a loss, lady.)
She finishes her tirade with, "A REAL EMPLOYEE WOULD HAVE TAKEN IT OUT TO MY HOUSE, I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER."
I hand her Herr Manager's card and motion to the phone. "You can call him right now, ma'am."
Rhinoceros: "I WILL CALL HIM WHEN I DAMN WELL WANT TO, YOU ARE LAZY, I WILL HAVE YOUR JOB, etc, etc," finishing with, "YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO DELIVER TO ME AND YOU KNOW IT!"
I have had enough. I snap.
Me: "Madam, if you wish something delivered, order a PIZZA. This is a toy store. Have a good day."
She gaped at me like a landed fish before storming off. Herr Manager chewed me out for it, but it was entirely worth it.
Never again did I deal with such persistent idiocy.
We have had a pair of scammers come in and claim "missing items" or "stuff not fresh enough."
These two would come in at least once a week and clog the drive up for at least fifteen minutes. One time, they ate three quarters of the fries and tried to claim that the boxes were not filled enough.
The manager had watched them scarf the fries and called them out on it.
The last time I saw them, we made everything fresh and triple checked the order.
The driver turned to the passenger, "They got everything right. What do we do?"
They called corporate claiming a drink had caused damage to the interior of the vehicle and were treated to free food.
My three biggest problems from when I worked in a grocery store deli:
1) Order one item, then take off/talk on the phone. Since you are not around, I help another custy. Then they demand that I stop since they were there first. You left the line. I learned in elementary school to go to the back if I did that. How did you fail that one?
2) Everybody who ordered this stuff made a point to comment that, "Me/spouse/kids are allergic to yellow cheese, give me the White American cheese with the holes."
Me: "You mean swiss?"
Custy: "No! White American cheese with the holes! Not the cheese from the Swiss!"
3) Custys that wouldn't reach up to the counter and wanted me to walk around to give them their food.
But it was amazing that as soon as my back was turned, they would stand up to reach the free samples.
Don't you realize all that stainless steel makes it easy for me to know what you are doing?