Retail Hell Underground

Will This Make You Ship Your Pants?

 http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/04/12/ship-my-pants-kmart-ad_n_3069515.html

A Movie Theater Hell Traumatizes KittyKatzchen

Hello, all. Kitty Katzchen here after a long hiatus. I've posted a little on the Facebook page, but mostly I've been sort of AWOL. Bad Monster Blogger (If I'm still considered one, anyway.) -Bops own head-

Anyway, I have a real shitty story for you all today, but first I wanted to tell you all why I was gone for so long. In short, I had a devastating, and personal, medical emergency. It was about a month ago and I'm just starting to crawl out of my shell and back into the world. I'll have my own rant about the military ER at another time, but for now I want to go back in time to a place in my life that I have rarely mentioned: working at Marcike theater.

WARNING! THIS STORY IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART OR STOMACH!

Marcike theater was my first, and second, job. I made a lot of good friends there and even found my first love. I was a doorperson (Which basically meant I cleaned the theaters, bathrooms, hallways, lobby, etc.) and was on one of my routine checks. Now, we had 4 bathrooms in our tiny theater: A three stall women's, a three stall men's, an 8 stall women's, and a one room men's. The first, third and fourth bathrooms were accessed directly from the lobby. The second, however, was sort of tucked away between theaters three and four. Even though it was small, it was still the men's main bathroom, since the other was only a one room/mostly handicapped one. Anyway, I was entering the men's room, now known as Hell, when I discovered a foul odor. This, actually, was not uncommon. No amount of bleach could get rid of the smell.

As I opened the first stall door in Hell, I was greeted by a sight that I, to this day, can not clear from my mind. Some nasty-ass Tun Tavern Tubesteak had shit on ALL THE SURFACES (Meme intentional)! It. Was. Everywhere. It was on the seat, bowl, AND back of the toilet. It was on the floor. It was on the stall walls and tile wall. It was splattered onto the floor of the next fucking stall. And then, as I was processing this literal shitstorm before me, I noticed something strange in the full, gag-inducing bowl. There was something white in there, and it sure as hell couldn't be the now destroyed porcelain.

Refusing to even imagine what it could be, I rushed from Hell like a dog was on my tail and practically slammed my way through the hallways and into the backroom of the concession stand. There, feeling safe around the cleaning supplies, I called my manager who was sitting upstairs.

Now, she was a generally good person, but had a hard time believing things she didn't see with her own eyes. So, I waited in my hidey-hole, ear to the door, and couldn't help a giggle when I heard her exclamation of "OH MY GOD!" followed by the clatter of heels as she tore the hell out of there.

To cut an already lengthy story short, she printed up a sign for us to hang on the door of Hell and had me recruit a coworker to help clean it. We held our breaths, periodically dashing out the door to get new air before rushing back to cleaning, and finally finished the job after half an hour of scrubbing and flushing. Afterwords, we were permitted our breaks, whereupon we chain smoked in wide-eyed horror while rocking back and forth in fetal position.

Oh, and the lovely surprise that was found in the toilet? A pair of XL tighty whities. Yes. They shat themselves, the entire bathroom, and caused irreparable damage to two of my five senses and then left their ruined undies hiding the in depths of the toilet instead of tossing them in the trash or, better yet, taking them fucking with them.

I understand accidents and all, but could this person really not have informed us of the issue? If they were embarrassed, could they not have pretended that they stumbled upon it? I swear, some people's kids.

--KittyKatzchen

Cashier Hell: Custy's Diarrhea Trail

Undead in Indiana:

So the day started out decently enough...mostly...found out that something made the milk go sour in the fridge.  Okay...well, worse things have happened.  

And indeed they would.

Then at work somebody (probably somebody's child) made a huge fecal mess all along the carpeting between my register and the door, and I only found out about it when a customer pointed it out to me as he was leaving...proving that not only am I horrifically ignorant of what my customers are doing *right in front of me*, but that I don't get out from behind my register nearly as often as I should.

And proving once and for all that people are jerks.  

Somebody or somebody's kid did this, and nobody said anything to me, not, "Sorry, my kid has diarrhea" or, "Sorry, I have diarrhea" or "Hey, that lady's kid pooped all over your floor!"  Unless they just didn't see it happen, in which case I only feel like HALF the fool.

And then came the cleanup.  But not before another poor customer rushed up, ignored my warning and stepped in it!  So, profuse apologies on my part, and paper towels.

And more frantic calls for cleanup help.

So before any other unfortunate wetness could occur, I whisked the remaining customers across the aisle to the other register, which unfortunately faces the western windows, at a time when the sun is inching, slowly and painstakingly, toward the horizon.  

And it got right in my face.  

My fellow employees know my pain, for they've invariably been through it too.  I couldn't even look at the customers or read the register totals without shading my eyes, face screwed up in agony and feeling like a vampire.

Thankfully my dauntless fellow employees were on the job, cleanup finally occurred, and no more customers had to suffer the wet.  (Although today must have been Public Humiliation Day, because my fellow employee informed me that she'd just minutes before had to clean up a full-blown adult-sized defecation on the floor just OUTSIDE the bathrooms!  Oh, the humanity.)

But finally all was well, sufficiently mopped, bleached, swept and smelling sweet again, and eventually I was able to make my way back across the aisle and back into the darkness of the shadows to await the coming of night.

The rest of the night was uneventful, and I slunk back home, wounded but alive.

So now I'm relaxing at home, and celebrating my survival of this day with "Tin Man" on DVD and some Oreos.  I have no milk. but it will have to do.
Cheers,

--Undead in Indiana

 

Tales of Woe and Win At The Golden Arches

McScrewYou Slave here again, with a couple of mini-tales of woe and one tale of win.

At our drive-thru (not McScrewYou's, haven't worked there for a while but think I'll hang on to the name ;) ), we have a screen that shows your order as I'm punching it in. 90% of the people who come through don't bother to look at the screen, but it tends to be the ones who DO that are annoying, because they don't understand HOW things are rung up so they tell me I'm entering their order wrong.

Case in point.....

"No, I didn't order a water, take that off!"

"Sir, you ordered a Puppy Patty (plain unsalted slice of meat so they don't have to buy a whole burger for their dog). I can't enter a piece of meat without adding it to something. This is how we enter a Puppy Patty."

"....oh. Okay then."

Minor annoyance, not so bad.

"Okay, so that'll be 8---"

"I didn't order two burgers!"

"Yes, sir, that's the combo---"

"I know I ordered the combo! I only want one burger!"

"I realize that, sir, but----"

"TAKE IT OFF!!" "..........." (I remove the combo discount, which if you don't read the last three letters 'CMB' would appear to be a second burger, so he will leave)

"Okay, please drive thr--"

"WHY IS IT $10?!?!?" *headdesk* ".................. I'll have your total for you at the window, sir........" (wait for him to drive off, re-add the combo discount, resist urge to hork one up in his root beer).

And then there's just the typical drive-thru morons. Take the dude's order, tell him to drive through, wait. And wait. Aaaaand..... wait. Look outside the window, he's still just sitting at the speaker.

So I turn the headset back on to tell him again to drive through.

As soon as it's turned on I hear him screaming at the speaker "-----LOOOO? HEELLLOOOOO!?!?! HELLO!!!!!!!"

"....... Hi?"

"WHY IS IT $9?!? THAT BURGER'S ON SALE FOR $2.50 AND THE OTHER ONE'S $3! IT SHOULD BE $5.50!" (are you fucking kidding me?)

"......... because you ordered large fries and there's tax?" (seriously people, it's FUCKING TAX. Taxes have only existed for the last, what, hundred and fifty years? Yeah, I can totally see how you missed being informed about that one)

"WELL THEN I DON'T WANT THE FRIES!" "..... sure, that'll be $6.25. Please drive through (and actually fucking DO IT this time, cockhole).

" This is one of the situations where if the guy actually DID bother to read the damn screen, he would've known that. But that would require, you know, EFFORT. Or brains. I can't decide which one this guy would have more trouble using.

*    *    *

Now for a tale of win. It may not seem that way at the start but you'll see why at the end. This is back at McScrewYou's.

So, I'm working booth. That means I'm the first window at drive-thru; I take the order, take the money, and then second window takes care of handing them the order. Since that takes very little time, I'm also the person in charge of tidying the lobby and cleaning bathrooms.

So I'm in booth, just finishing up an order, when someone tells me over the headset that there is a 'bathroom emergency' in Men's. To which I just think WTF? I cleaned that thing like 5 minutes ago.

So I head up front to get the cleaning supplies, and on my way to the supply closet mention to two of my co-workers that I'd just been alerted to an 'emergency' in the bathroom (I can't remember if they asked or what, this was over a year ago).

I get the cleaning supplies, and on my way to the bathroom the head manager (a cool guy, really friendly, let's call him AM) has just come in asks me how the morning's been going.

I hesitate for a moment, then say I'll tell him after I find out what exactly a 'bathroom emergency' is. Then my drive-thru headset beeps, and I have to head to booth to take care of that order. Meanwhile, my two co-workers have gone to check out the men's bathroom, and as I'm closing the door behind me I can hear them *SCREAMING* in absolute horror. From the other side of the building. At this point, I'm starting to get REALLY scared about what exactly a 'bathroom emergency' entails.

I finish the order and head back up front to grab the cleaning supplies, at which point I see AM walking from the supply closet carrying a roll of paper towels, a big garbage bag, and the box of rubber gloves. Looks at me and tells me to go back to booth.

"But shouldn't I--"

"NO go back to booth!"

So I tidy up dining room and serve a couple customers. Later, I see AM walking out of the men's room with the garbage bag COMPLETELY full of paper towels. Like stuffed to the top. It was completely empty when he went in there. My two co-workers who actually saw the bathroom told me that, to put things delicately, a man suffered from some indigestion and couldn't bridge the gap between pants and toilet quite in time. Which is to say, the entire floor in front of the toilet was a massive puddle of liquid shit.

I can not put into words just how appreciative I was to have a boss that was willing to do the dirty work himself rather than shovel it off to the newbie after he saw just what I would have had to deal with. I know a lot of bosses out there would have had me wrist-deep in feces at that point.

Until next time!

--McScrewYou Slave

 

 

 

Target Cart Attendant Has Day From Bathroom Hell

From Target Slave: As a cart attendant, this is the kind of shit I have to deal with daily working at Target. Literally.

I covered up the mess for those of you who have queasy tummies or may be snacking or drinking while reading. If you'd like to see just how shitty this little Target piggy was click the pick or

CLICK HERE

 

 

 

 

Camera Catches Custy Pooping In Grocery Store Aisle

The nasty bitch forgot forgot to scratch her paws on the store floor. Seriously it reminds me of one of the dogs I walk! Though they have all been trained to have better manners and would never shit in a grocery store aisle!

Hellmart Custys: Things You Can Apparently Wipe Your Ass With

Ashy-Boy here! I'm at the Hellmart with Daddy-Boy, and this is everything that was in the toilet paper aisle.

So, without further hesitation, we present 'Things You Can Apparently Wipe Your Ass With' by Hellmart Piggy Shoppers.

The above hot dog buns are a Hellmart piggy crowd favorite because they can easily accomodate super-sized turds the size of Lincoln Logs!

 

Create your own personalized shit sheets with multi-purpose photo paper! Use pictures of your enemies, hateful coworkers, and famous douchebags like Kim Kardashian!

 

 If you're a Hellmart-brand popcorn chicken eater, the produce keeper is perfect for depositing diarrhea into two hours later!

 

 Not sure what this reject is, but it looks to be plenty comfy for asswiping!

 

 Flatbread and fuzzy fingers? Not so comfy. A combo for those who like their wiping on the sadistic side.

 

The Edge of Grocery Hell: Holiday Shit Show

From Then Let Them Eat Crack:

First off let me say that one of the advantages of having sold my soul to the retail gods many years ago (slightly over a decade this past summer) is that I have come to know A LOT of my custys personally and it allows me to get away with saying some things that I should probably be fired for, that and having a manager who has his own column on RHU doesn't hurt either.  

Just a few short weeks after I smarted off to one of my regulars and explained to Riferous that I actually knew her, he told me "I just assume you know everyone or I couldn't sleep at night knowing you still have a job."  

I had an asshat customer.  We have a sale that says when you buy 10 participating items, you get $5 off your order.  The items are clearly marked but as this sale always goes hand in hand with our 10 for $10 sale its apparently confusing.  I'm in my late 20's and a man probably in his 60's comes up to the service desk and throws his receipt at me (strike one) and starts swearing:

"This fu**ing stuff didn't ring up right, she charged me too much" (strike two, you only get one swear word with me)

*Smile*

"Well sir she didn't charge you anything, she scanned a barcode and the computer brought up the price but let me see what's going on."

"NO! this is Fu**ing bullsh**"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stop swearing, there's no need for that kind of language."

"NO! this is..."

"Is non negotiable, you either stop swearing or you leave.  Period."

"Well I bought 7 of those buy 10 items and I didn't get the right price, its because of people like you that I lost my farm." (did he just pull a "you people" on me?)

I go on to explain that this is a common problem that there is a simple solution and I will be happy to fix it.

You should let me get three more things and just give me the difference

I would be happy to sir, and that's how we fix this and I would have explained that 5 minutes ago if you hadn't started cussing at me.

He leaves to get his things and comes back more calm and politely asks:

Do you see why I'm upset?

I do see why you're upset and you have a right to be, but you don't have a right to swear at me, I didn't make up the sale and I had no control over it.

Well, he says, WE'RE obviously from two different generations

Praying to all that is holy that I don't lose my job, I said,

That's obvious sir, I was raised with manners and I don't speak to people like that.

He left in a huff, I immediately called my store manager and when I started my story with "you're gonna get a call about what just happened" he sighed and when I told him the story he just said he'd handle it, apparently the man never called.

*    *    *    *

I know the Holidays are tough on us slaves, This time of year is like Retail Armageddon and to do my best to help I make candy every year and bring in for my fellow slaves.  

There is a small shelf next our customer service cell and I usually just put the bags of glass candy there for them to enjoy as they have time.  Tonight after all was closed up this entitled couple comes walking into the store and starts pointing to the bags (plain unlabled zip-type bags of candy) and discussing what flavors they must be.  The husband tells his wench in a condescending tone that "No dear, that one is cinnamon." I correct them because they were wrong and I wouldn't miss the opportunity to tell them they're wrong, and next thing I know the wife opens a bag and sticks her grubby little paw in and GRABS A HANDFUL!  It wasn't a dish, it was a freaking bag, do you think I spent my money and time to make candy for you God-only-knows-where-they've-been hands to go digging through?

*    *    *    *

So working in grocery I work with a lot of minors and a lot of Custys who apparently were literally raised in a barn.  I have no idea what these people's home looks like but I think the producers of Hoarders would have a field day in my town.

One day there was a "problem in the public bathroom and we called two of our male baggers up to the office to be as fair as possible with the doling out of the task.  Mr. Tommy Toughnuts who is dying to anything but real work volunteers for the job without hearing what it is so we let him have it: someone had backed up and shit in the urinal.  After he cleaned up the mess the poo jokes started:

You tired? You look Pooped.

Having a Shitty day?

Tired of coming to work and getting Shit on?

I know you have a crappy job.

Feel like no one gives a SHIT?

I swear not two hours later another one of my kids is laughing hysterically and they tell me there's another mess in the same bathroom, so I go to investigate and someone has shit their pants and taken their soiled undergarments and carried them across the bathroom and thrown them not in the trash can but on the floor literaly abutting the can.  I had to call Riferous and tell him about it and when he asked if I was kidding I said "I shit you not!"

I felt bad for my fellow slaves but it made for an entertaining day for me.

Finally.

The day after Thanksgiving is usually the best day of the year to work in food service, most of the people in the world are off terrorizing all the other retail slaves and dragging their spawn out at O'dark Thirty because their welfare checks just came in.  This year some asshat custy called the store and demanded a manager.

She proceeds to tell our new manager that she got charged for her daughters turkey and demands a refund.

"Was your daughter in line behind you?

Yes.

"Did your daughter also get charged for the turkey?"

No.

"...And you want me to refund your money?"

Well duh.

"Ma'am, I guess your daughter owes you some money, have a nice day."

Click

--Then Let Them Eat Crack

Ladies Lounge Signage

Shit By The Seaside: One Service Slave's Shocking Tales of Cleaning Public Toilets

Hi, my names Nick.

This isn't retail, but public service. I used to have a job cleaning public toilets on a seaside town in Yorkshire, England from 5am-3pm on holidays, weekdays rain or shine. Indirectly it's retail as people spend a lot of money on the tourism on the front.

On the morning, from 6-10 you got the weekend warrior shitters; these guys are the die hard paper readers who bring their own papers. They will shit whether you are there or not and will insist on talking to you wether you like it or not, priding themselves on how loud they can sploosh as they crimp off a sloppy log of morning goodness.

Next you have the lunch time junkies who shoot up and shit everywhere straight afterwards, needles and shit included.

Then you have the after lunch families all busting for a gagging shit after 3 kilos of fish and chips. They will all cluster into one cubicle and take turns in shitting with the kids then grandad and mum last. This usally involves ALL of the paper gone and things like news paper or socks / pants left covered in sweet smelling brown gold. Because they have been on the beach all day, they walk around in their bare feet or sandals, paddling shit and piss with them mixed with dirty sand. Lastly there are the toilet paper bandits who have a fetish for dismantling the dispensers and taking the industrial sized rolls for their own. Usally, the women's.

I have seen shit smeered on the roof, in sinks, diarrhea  sprayed across a cubicle with piss in the bowl.

I have been on my knees cleaning a urinal while someone stood above me started using it, the small droplets of stray piss hitting the back of my neck.

Standard issue clothing was a pair of green polyester non waterproof trousers, a polyester fleece and a pair of doc martin boots. On most occasions I would wear a pair of disposable gloves as the chemicals we use to disinfect usually rot rubber gloves fairly quick. No face masks, goggles or bunny suits.

I have to be a bit sexist here and say that the women's toilets in my experience were by far the worst, or perhaps just British girls. They're a bunch of animals.

I have seen what can't be unseen, my girlfriend would probably not believe half the stuff if I told her. It's a shock to the system for the first few days, but after a couple of weeks, nothing surprised me.

My most memorable experience would have to be aftermath from a shit war.

This is where the local dickhead delinquent kids will gather after a few drinks and defecate into their hands and throw shit at each other in the public toilets. Sometimes this will be with the aid of wetted tissue, or tissue with shit. 50 / 50 ratio. The tissue hardens leaving crusty particles of shit embedded into the pebble dashed walls that requires a blunt knife and fingers to pick out, or re-wetting and scraping off. I had filled 3 whole bin bags, 50 litre bags of the stuff in one sitting. Most days, you will get 8-10 50 litre bags of used paper, nappies and medical waste from 6 toilet blocks, each block containing around 10 cubicles and trough urinals. Each bag filled by hand.

When I used to come home I could smell piss on my own breath and would shower for half an hour trying to get clean. I would repeat this 6 times a week 4am start. Granted the scenery of the coast was nice. After reading some of the stories on this site, I would consider them very tame experiences for the inexperienced. Until you have been there and got the t-shit it's impossible to comprehend the things a council worker will see in a day.

I'm now a music teacher in Australia, but no-one knows what jobs I've done before for a dollar.

Regards,

--Nick

The Tale of a Very Crappy Day

Hello RHU. 

Allow me to tell you the tale of my crappy day.  Literally crappy.

I strolled into the bathroom to drain the lizard, and saw little chunks of something in the urinal.  I thought to myself, "Is that chewing tobacco?  It's an awful lot if itAHFUCK somebody shit in the pisser!" 

I called the office and said "This is one of those once in a lifetime moments when I get to use a truly accurate pun - some asshole took a shit in the urinal." 

Needless to say, we were pissed.  *rimshot*

Later on in the day at home the phone rang.  It was the store.  It's been hot as fuck around here, as I'm sure I don't need to tell most of you, and I thought either Satan was calling because he wanted his weather back or the cold cases were exploding from the heat.  But no, it's fellow RHUer Thenletthemeatcrack (TLTEC), with another shitty story. 

Someone had gotten to the men's room in time, but not to the facilities (not even the urinal this time).  This generous soul donated to us not only their fertilizer but also the briefs off his back.  Well, backside.  And had he made any attempt to clean up the mess?  No, in fact, and left even the now creatively colored garment in the middle of the floor amongst the droppings.  Why break up the set, huh?

TLTEC really wanted me to say "You're kidding" so he could say "NO SHIT!" 

Now that I think about it, maybe I should have gone to the casino that night.  Might have been my lucky day at craps.

Stay classy, RHU!

--Riferous

 

Monday From Hell At The Golden Arches

Hello again RHU!

Arch Guy here ready to tell you about what I consider the Monday from Hell, but first a little background info.

I've worked at 2 different Golden Arches, one in Arizona and one in Virginia. The Monday from Hell happened while I was in Arizona. It's a story that involves 3 different custys. I had to deal with 1 custy while the Assistant Store Manager (ASM) had to deal with the other 2. Also, sorry for the length of the post.

My store was set up so that the drive-thru was on big hallway, so we could easily run up and grab something if we needed to hand it out the back window. We also had 2 speakers to order from. However, one was right in front of the other, and not side by side like I've seen other places that have double order points.

I was in the back drive-thru that day. It was my job to take the first order up front, then run back to my register and take the cash. One custy stopped at the 2nd order point. Now, normally I would press the button to switch over to the 2nd speaker to tell them to move up to the first, but the button wasn't working. 10 minutes went by and the custy still hadn't moved, and the line was getting longer and longer.

Finally another customer honked their horn and the custy moved up. I take the custy's order, and what does he do when he gets to my window?

He yells at me for making people wait in line. Literally yells at me because I made people wait because he didn't have enough common sense to move to the first speaker.

Now for the other 2 custys.

About 2 hours after this incident, my ASM told me about a lady who yelled at our maintenance man. What did he do to the woman? Absolutely nothing! So you ask yourself, why did she yell at him?

Her "perfect little angel" decided to wet their pants. Inside the play place. And not in any easily accessible place either. Up at the top in those very narrow tubes. The lady yelled at the maintenance man like it was his fault her child did that.

I should also mention that he was not a very small person, so it was difficult for him to clean it up.

Another hour later the ASM tells me another story that happened in the play place. A lady was beating her child. Not just a spanking, but literally beating her child. There were other parents in there with children. Did any of them call the police? No. They wanted the ASM to do it. I understand that since it's on our property that we need to handle situations like that, but they could have at least called 911 to get the police there.

Whew that was a long one. I seriously hated that day because of all the stupid that happened. Until next time RHU!

--Arch Guy

 

Hospital Hell: Crazy Patient's New Toilet

From Chicken Flinger:

Hello again all you RHUers. I've got a story for you that, while not really retail related, is still so fuckin' hilarious that it must be told.

So I currently work in a hospital as does my mom. This one comes from her unit. So there are 2 patients in one room. Both are little confused old men, so both of them have bed alarms on them. These work by being wrapped around the bed rail and it alarms when the cord (attached to the patient's clothes) is disconnected from the magnetic part strapped to the bed rails. Usually when they're confused, patients don't have their minds about them enough to undo the strap holding it to the bed. Not this guy. He detached the bed alarm and climbed over the rails. He aims directly for his roommate's bed.

The roommate also managed to detach his bed alarm and proceeds to cower in the corner as patient #1 climbs into his bed... and takes a giant shit. Then proceeds to wipe his ass with the blankets and sheets. He then climbs back into his own bed and reattaches the bed alarm.

Patient #2 is still cowering in the corner when a PCT walks in and finds the mess. PCT asks patient #2 if the mess was his doing. He says nothing but points, trembling and apparently scared shitless (haha, I am so punny), at his roommate who is in his own bed looking as if nothing happened. They knew it was patient #1 though because the bed alarm was covered in shit among other things.

Only in a hospital.

--Chicken Flinger

Piggy Custys Stink Up Store With Shitty Diaper and Get Febreeze Treatment

RSQ_me gets a Retail Balls Award for surviving an encounter with negligent custys and their baby's stinky diaper:

Hello again fellow RHU slaves! RSQ_me here again with a story from my own personal vault. This one happened about a year ago and I still randomly giggle about it! Sorry it's so long.

So we were having our BIG sale at our clothing store. This is the time when EVERYONE shows up and we are at our absolute busiest. It's about halfway through my shift and this family walks in. Negligent Mom (NM), Negligent Grandma (NG) and their Little Angel (LA). Immediately when they enter the store I smell shit. Little Angele left a surprise in his diaper! No big deal. They probably just want to look around for a minute, go change his diaper, and then come back for some high quality shopping!

So they're looking around and the smell is getting worse. They're going to leave any minute now. Twenty minutes later... they're still here, loading up the fitting rooms while Little Angel is walking around with a load in his pants. Well, this is a FANTASTIC time to take my lunch! It's starting to smell like someone had a sewage leak.

So I go on my lunch. I walk through the biohazard area, sans HAZMAT suit, and make my way to the stockroom to enjoy some high-quality time with just me and my sandwich. Ten minutes into my lunch, one of my girls runs into the stockroom, slams the door, and starts taking some much needed breaths of fresh air. I'll call her Cool Girl or CG.

CG: OMG the entire fucking store smells like shit!

Me: They STILL haven't left yet!

CG: NO!!!

So then she puts on her fake smile and calmly exits the break room.

Ten minutes after that ANOTHER one of my girls, we'll call her Sweet Girl or SG, escapes into the breakroom gasping for air and I can smell the fumes seeping under the door.

Me: They're STILL here!

SG: YES and I almost threw up in my mouth a little bit so I had to get out!

Me: Someone needs to change that baby's fucking diaper! This is ridiculous!

SG: No kidding!

Then she bravely goes back onto the sales floor.

By this time my lunch is over... DAMN! I plaster on that fake ass smile that all of us retail slaves have mastered and walk back onto the floor. As soon as I open the door all I can smell is shit. The entire store has completely emptied except for the Negligent Family and one brave customer who is trying to make her way to the sales rack but just can't leave the center of the store due to the smell. I walk out and the smell has filled my nostrils and started to wrap itself around my tongue. OMG I can actually TASTE shit! There goes my sandwich. I look at the family and see LA walking around looking in the mirror and he then drops to the ground, on his ass and starts to giggle. He stands up and repeats the process. All I can see are diaper streaks on my fucking floor!!!! Oh God... I'm going to have to clean that up. I look around and apparently he's been at this little game for a while. There is a trail of diaper prints all around the store!

I calmly walk up to the front where the smell isn't quite so rank and breathe through my mouth. I start talking to SG and look around the empty store, hoping and praying for this whole family to get the shit they came for and fucking LEAVE! CHANGE YOUR BABIES DIAPER!

Finally I just can't hang anymore. My associates refuse to go anywhere near the back of the store where the smell is the worst, and my one other brave customer keeps looking at me like she's drowning and I'm the only person with a rope. They've been in here for well over an hour. I grab the Febreeze.

I start at the front of the store and just start spraying. I'm covering every damn inch of this store in Febreeze. I go over to my brave customer and apologize for the smell and just start squirting. You'd think she was a kid and I just handed her a fucking lollypop. Finally I make my way to the back. I excuse myself to the NG and NM, ask if they're still finding everything ok and spray, like a half a bottle.

Finally the store smells like shit and Febreeze but you can mostly concentrate on the Febreeze and attempt to ignore the shit smell. I make my way back up to the front of the store and begin talking to SG again. Then I hear snapping and a HEY YOU! from the back of the store. I don't know about you guys but I do NOT answer to some bitch snapping at me, like I'm her fucking dog, and yelling HEY YOU from across the store. I refuse to do it. I DON'T get paid enough.

SG asks: Is she talking to me? and begins to walk towards the back.

I stop her. If I don't answer to HEY YOU then she SURE as hell isn't going to do it. I make more than she does so she DEFINITELY doesn't get paid enough. I tell her to stay where she is and ignore the idiot.

Finally NG walks up to me pissed off.

NG: I can't believe that you just sprayed over me and my daughter! He's a baby and babies SHIT themselves! She was really embarrassed and offended that you did that! You singled us out and sprayed Febreeze! I can't believe you just did that! My daughter is SO embarrassed! He's just a baby and BABIES SHIT!

Me: I do apologize for spraying by you guys but I didn't single you out. I began at the front of the store and made my way to the back because the whole store smells like shit... not just the back part. I also apologize if your daughter was offended or embarrassed, but the smell was offensive to the rest of the customers in the store and the other associates refuse to go to the back, where you guys are, and perform their job duties. Again I apologize if anyone was offended or embarrassed, but it is my job to ensure that this is a pleasant shopping environment for all of my customers and a pleasant working environment for my associates. (In my head: CHANGE THE BABIES FUCKING DIAPER! Would you want to walk around with shit on your ass for an hour and a half! He's just a baby! I hope eventually you have to wear diapers again and someone refuses to change your shitty ass while they try on clothes!!! ASSHOLE!)

NG storms off to the back, grabs NM and LA and they FINALLY leave the store. The store smelled like shit for about an hour after they left too. I think it seeped into the clothes.

Until next time!

--RSQ_Me

Needed Tanning Salon Signage

Humor Me found this on the net and it appears to be for a tanning salon. And believe it or not people pee in tanning room waste baskets ALL THE TIME! I have a friend that works at one where this happens a lot and mainly with women according to her. In fact, there is a well know older pop singer who has done it not just once, but TWICE!!! And no, it's not Britney or Christina! --Freddy