* * *
So why do all my stories involve children and pee?!?!
Today I was stuck in the fitting room and I saw a little girl following her mom around, trying desperately to keep up, and going "Mom, where's the bathroom? Mommy, I need the bathroom."
I was backing away, especially after last week, thinking OHFUCKOHFUCK, CRITICAL LIMIT, CHILD IS GOING TO EXPLODE, but she just kept tugging at her mom and asking for the bathroom.
And freaking Mother of the Year, didn't say "Just a minute", not even a "Fuck off, kid", just STARED STRAIGHT FORWARD AND COMPLETELY DENIED THE CHILD'S EXISTENCE.
Then, I had a really stressed out looking bitch bring 4 kids and all the clothes she could carry into a fitting room and stay there for a good 45 minutes. Hand to God, her youngest screamed bloody murder, nonstop, that ENTIRE. FUCKING. TIME. I was afraid he was going to explode too.
Then she walked around the store with him for a good while longer, and he just scrreaaammmeeed. I can tolerate most stuff, but babies screaming is the WORST for me.
I felt bad for her, cuz she looked like she wanted to rip her hair out, but I felt more bad for me, cuz I had to fucking listen to that craziness at a close proximity and I have a strong aversion to children.
If such a time comes when I decide I want children, please smack me upside the head and remind me what a fucking dumbfuck I am being. Thank you. Of course, she left the fitting room a disaster.
Oh! On a sidenote! I find this fun. Seeing as you're here, I'm assuming most of you have no problem with swearing. And you can see that I lurvs me some cuss words. Honestly, that is really how I talk, I don't mean anything bad by it, it is just literally how I speak on a daily basis, its natural for me, part of my personality. I have one o' those crazy religious co-workers (doesn't everyone?) who gets reallllyyy offended when I swear, just slightly, things like 'hell' or 'damn'. And I'm not talking about in the workplace, just in general.
Now as much as I love to accomadate all folks (haha, right), I think honestly we're big kids, and we can be mature about a few words, yeah? Or must I censor myself to please everyone?
Happy trails :)
It's been crazy.
I must admit I've been a little stressed, what with starting my new interpreting class, taking a motorcycle course, watching a girl have a random seizure in said course and almost die (before you say it - no epilepsy or seizure history. Just a random 22 year old having a seizure. Scared the fucking bejeesus out of me), and then because I was quite shaken, crashing a motorcycle....into my mother. Heh.
BUT I have missed you all, so I'm back to astound you with tales of awful people.
In one recent shift, I was greeting, a slow and hellish ball-breaking task. I'm a fairly good (fake) people person though, so I just smile and wave. This man comes strolling in with an Old Navy bag in one hand and I immediately realize I'm in trouble. His bag has our Christmas design on it. Fuckity fuck fuck.
SirFuckface: Yeah I need to exchange these, they don't fit.
Me: Ok, no problem, do you have a receipt?
SF: Yeah, I got them for Christmas and they're too small. *hands me receipt. Date? Dec. 23*
Me: Ok sir, well unfortunately our return policy only covers 90 days, so we won't be able to exchange this for you *ITS BEEN FOUR MONTHS ASSWIPE*
SF: But....I just want to exchange them, not return them!
Me: Yes, well that falls under the return policy.
SF: WHAT?! So what am I supposed to do, just throw them away?!?
Me: No, no don't do that! If you really can't wear them or don't know anyone you can give them to, you could always donate them.
SF: Yeah right, like I'm gonna do that.
That sound you hear at this point is me punching him in the dick in my mind. What a douchenozzle.
He then starts screaming about how he's a regular customer and he's spent tons of money at our store and he'll never come back and FUCK THIS PLACE! Que storming out.
A couple days later I was working my ass off in the fitting rooms, running back and forth cleaning up people's messes (you ever feel like your doing other people's laundry? Ugh, I do.), and just generally busting my ass. A woman comes in with her two children, about age 6 (fraternal twins), we set up a fitting room for each child, and the nightmare begins.
These kids are literally THROWING CLOTHING over the tops of the doors, to the point where shorts were getting caught and I had to use that little hook thing that I think is my Gandalf staff to get them down. There was screaming and children slamming and locking doors, and Mom yelling......my head just reeled.
I thought I was watching the Twilight Zone. Kind of like a train wreck, you can't stop staring.....to which the mom just kept saying "I'm sorry, I have really bad kids".
REALLY LADY? REALLY? WHOSE FAULT IS THAT!? My mother would have beat me like a redheaded stepchild right there in the middle of the store if I acted like such a little beast. It was like a horror film that wouldn't end....
This weekend is the famous $1 flip flop sale. If I survive, and I may not, I'll let you know how it goes.
What the fuck, I dont even....
It's a doosey, ladies and gents.
Old Slavery has these mega sales called One Day Wonders. No doubt you've heard of them. They're always on Saturdays and they feature one item for one day at a ridiculous price, usually with a limit per customer.
Today's was $6 Polo shirts. We also had $2 flip flops, and all bottoms in clearance were $6.
I did not understand the word madhouse until today.
I was working the fitting room and I couldn't keep up with the mess. People were bringing in fucktons of clothes (most fitting rooms have limits! Ours is ten!!!), taking forever, and then not buying ANY OF IT, leaving it all over the floor, in my bins, freaking EVERYWHERE. SO MUCH.
The picture is from around 4pm? Yeah. Fucking holy balls.
Also, I'm sick. Again. Goddamn dustmite allergy.
So yeah, tiring day. To top it all off, even after the customers left, my processing bin kept mysteriously filling. Dumbfuck Mcgee keeps coming up and putting huge lods of mens pants into my bin.
Me: "Whatcha doin?"
DFM: "Oh just cleaning mens clearance. I'll be back for it."
*she comes back with more armfuls*
Me: "You know you have to process that right?"
DFM: "Yep" *she proceeds to meander around the store*
AND NOW, PARENT OF THE YEAR AWARDS!!
First prize goes to the woman who let her infant crawl around on our dirty clearance floor and play with sharp plastic hangers. I had to take them away from him so he wouldn't put them in his mouth.
Honorable mention goes to the woman too lazy to find an employee to climb a ladder for her and too lazy to do it herself, so she sent her 7 year old up the ladder. "Go get mommy some flip flops." NONONONO, FUCKING STOP.
Yep. Sleep needed. Sleep forever.
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!