Someone call a priest! The crustys were chock full of Demon yesterday.
I
don't know what it was, but I have never had nastier customers
consistently all damn day.
This one lady
started out seemingly nice. She asked me for a portable camera printer.
We don't sell those anymore.
Woo, shit hit the fan then. She got all
huffy with me and whined and moaned and had a little fit. Sorry, bitch,
I'm not Harry Potter, I conjure one out of nowhere.
She walks
away from me *important* and about twenty minutes later she came up
with an ink cartridge for a regular HP printer and lights into me about
"I don't wanna be mean or rude, but you told me the wrong thing! It's
RIGHT HERE!" as she's waving it around like a psycho.
I'm
sorry, what the hell does an ink cartridge have to do
with a portable printer? I happen to know that the particular cartridge
she had fits my desktop printer, which is a far cry from portable.
At
this point I'm not entirely sure WTF she's on about, so I just say
"Okay." and continue my job.
Well, actually,
she's pissed me off at this point, so I go to receiving and help with
the truck. The boyfriend is back there, and he's able to calm me down
and let me throw things around (by the way, boxes of infant clothing
make great frisbees) until I'm calm enough to deal with the rest of the
psychos.
They, in their infinite wisdom, never
have enough cashiers on Sunday. It's only the second busiest day in the
week, no biggie. So they call for help from the floor. They called one
guy 4 times in less than a minute.
I just wanted to scream out "Give the
poor guy time to actually walk up there!" Ugh, managers of COURSE can't
get on a
register, so they spend time incessantly paging. For Pete's sake, stop
being lazy assholes, and stop harassing us all..
Well,
lucky me, I sold 1300 bucks of stuff and got to do a carry out (my
sales were highest, Woo!) and when I got back there was a lady in Paint
banging the hell out of the service bell.
I walk over and tell her that
I'll find someone and she just glares at me.
Oh..kay?
The closest person
around who can mix is my boyfriend, and he agrees to show me how to mix
so I can do it.
The impatient crusty asks for
recommendations, and barely gives my boyfriend time to answer before
screaming out "DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING?!" to him.
He let's it
go (guess all that time in Basic helps one ignore people yelling) but I
just look at this lady til she backs down.
Ugh. Jerk.
To help that
situation, this newbie worker comes up and starts arguing about what
paint and how to mix it with my
boyfriend, which sends Impatient Crusty into a tizzy.
Thanks, Newbie!
THEN another coworker decides that she's too lazy to go look for
something in the back, so I get to go, still for the Paint Department. I
have never done paint, and wasn't sure what I was looking for, so
again, the boyfriend had to come and rescue me.
We found what these
people wanted - er, more like he found it - and then, blessedly, it was
break time! For break we normally leave the
building, but this time we went a different way than normal, only to
discover that someone had actually shit on the floor.
Are
you kidding me?
Someone actually took a shit
on the floor. In full view of the doors and all the registers.
One
of the CSMs gave the cashier closest to the poop some paper towels and
told her to go for it.
What?
Paper
towels
to clean up poop?
She figured out to call
maintenance for haz-mat clean up.
Really,
though, who poops on a floor?
Anyway, when I
got back, I had to find 74 copies of a new release game that had
mysteriously not found a way to the floor. I'm trying to find out if
they're somewhere in particular when I see Psycho Bitch from before.
My
coworker is telling me to GTFO, but I can't figure out why, so I keep
going about, finally tracking down the NR.
My
coworker comes up to me after the lady leaves and tells me that Psycho
Bitch was complaining about me.
According to her, PB got the wrong thing
(YA DON'T SAY) and so it's MY fault that she had to drive all the way
back to pick up the right thing (doubtful) and waste "precious gas"
because she's poor and got laid off, and HOW DARE that bitchy teenager
have a job
when she doesn't, and she better tell management what she said, and
bitchbitchbitchbitchbitchbitch.
And she said that I asked her if
she needed help, then walked away, and then gave her the wrong
information.
I. Am. Talented.
Really,
how did I manage to walk away AND give her the wrong info?
But
if PB wasn't too fucking dumb to fucking ask for the right thing to
begin with, maybe I wouldn't be ready to throw her off a mountain top.
Naturally
no one's talking to management, because Ms Raving Lunatic is, well, a
raving lunatic.
And of all the coworkers she could have gone to, she
picked the one guy that absolutely couldn't give a damn about customer
service. We're always getting complained to about him.
But
this pissed me off enough to go have a fit in back. Boyfriend couldn't
calm me down, and I went to management and said if
that lady comes back, to please escort her out, because it's now
harassment.
Actually, I may have said something closer to this, "If any
manager actually has a backbone and can stand up for their associate,
I'd really appreciate it if when this lady comes back because she's too
freakin' stupid to know what the crap she's talking about, you would
escort her out. She's come in twice, once specifically to complain about
me, and this is turning into harassment. Do something."
I
was honestly surprised I censored myself that much.

Another
coworker got physically assaulted by a customer. Their little kid took
all the tags out of the shelf strip, so she asked if she could have the
tags back.
That's all she said, and this lady is a real sweetheart, so I
know she wasn't mean. Apparently the mother grabbed D's arm and spun
her around, throwing her into the shelf while screaming out "DON'T YOU
EVER TALK TO HER THAT
WAY, YOU BITCH!"
She then dumped the contents of several shelves into
her cart, ran with it up to the registers, and screamed out that she
would have bought all that if D wouldn't have screamed at her.
What.
The. Fuck???
I don't know what the hell is
wrong with these fucktards. I'm guessing their scheduled shipment of
drugs is late.
I wish I was kidding.