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Video Store Retail Hell

RantFrom: DV-Diva

I'm a closing manager for a video store. That means, my work day generally starts at about 5pm, give or take, and is heavily supported by the coffee shop in our shopping complex. I arrive at work while the rest of the world is going home from it.

Then you come in, Mr. High and Mighty omnipotent ruler of customer service workers. You stumble through the door, being dragged by your 6.4 screaming children, and my employee and I know you're coming by the tell-tale "chirp chirp!" of the car alarm on your Suburban. Your children scramble like so many field mice, spreading their numbers evenly acrossour video games, candy, and Family film sections.

You make your way to the New Release Wall. You stare, dumbfounded for a moment at a spot reserved for the movie you were looking for. A spot that has been empty since that particular movie came out on Tuesday. It's Wednesday night. Where is your movie?!

The look on your face as you storm up to the register area speaks volumes to my fellow employee and myself. We already know what you're about to ask.

"WHY IS THIS MOVIE NOT ON THE SHELF!?!!" you bellow needlessly. We can hear you. The store has fantastic acoustics.

"That one has been all checked out since it came out yesterday, sir." I inform you.

"Did you check the drop box for it?" You ask, the smug look on your face suggesting that I have no earthly idea where the drop box even IS.

"My coworker just emptied it," I reply, pointing to the stack of movies he or she is currently scanning in, "Unfortunately, no one has brought that one back yet. I'll let you know if I see one, though!"

I smile at you. Your nostrils flare.

Retail_hell_slaves_007"Check. The. Box. Again!" You demand.

I open the door to the drop box cabinet so that you can see for yourself that it is completely empty. Meanwhile, your kids have completely destroyed my video games section by tossing all of the cover boxes onto the floor, and the rest of them have set up camp in the candy aisle and are using it as their personal buffet.

Your wrath growing ever hotter, you decide that we do indeed have several copies of the movie you're looking for stashed somewhere underneath the counters, and/or on our persons. You stand there staring at me, as if pulling a copy of any movie title thrown my way out of thin air is a part of my performance repertoire. I stare back. Because, well...Your shit aint here, dude.

Finally, your precious little hellspawn decide on a game. They inevitably bring me the wrong box, so I have to send them back out to the shelf to get the right one, You discretely yank the Push Pop that another one has opened and is happily drooling on out of its gaping maw, and you put it back onto the display. My co-worker will find it after we've closed that night and swear off restocking candy forever.

Your kids come back with the right game box, and perhaps you even allow the others to rent a movie they're whining to you for. You pay grudgingly after complaining first about the price, and then mentioning how you should really be getting it all for free since we didn't have the movie you were looking for. I smile genially, and I tell you that I wish I could do that for you. Though really, what I wish I could do for you involves a whole lot more cursing and my foot up your ass.

You wrangle up your gaggle of pre-adolescent demons, and you herd them into the parking lot and back into your car. But not before you stop not one, but TWO other customers on their way into the store to ask them if they're returning the movie you were looking for!

Just as your ginormous gas-guzzling vehicle leaves the parking lot,there's a soft thud against the inside of the drop box. My co-worker opens it to retrieve what was dropped. And there, as though the gods of karma were smiling down upon us, is a solitary copy of the movie you wanted so badly.

And do you know what I do with that movie, good sir?

I recommend it whole-heartedly to the very next customer I see.


Zoo Retail Hell


My name is Maria, and though you have not met me, you know me, just as you know every employee at a store that gives you that look you know so well, that makes you want to lean over and grab their shoulders and scream, "I AM NO CUSTY, I AM LIKE YOU!" 

I work at a zoo for a summer job in an undisclosed location in the USA. 

Not retail? I beg to differ. 

I worked at a ride for kids and their parents, or at a station selling feed for animals.

Screaming children every day, rain or shine, coffee or no coffee.  To add to that, it was the same CD we had to play for background music on the carousel with 16 4-minute songs that played for the entirety of an eight-hour shift. You heard that music when you got home, when you were driving, even while you slept.

I half awoke most nights seeing a line of people on the side of my bed, yelling at them to get the fuck out of my room, it was 3 am and the ride wasn't open yet. 

I can deal with that. I can deal with terrible customers, rude adults, bratty children, the pounding need to get my tubes tied lest I breed one of those hellspawn; it was simple as long as I had wonderful coworkers. 

For the most part I did.

Except one.

This coworker was hell. 

I am an ambitious, devoted worker who loves the bosses I had and truly enjoyed working for a company with the message a zoo has, and I take my job to heart. This coworker was a stoned-out slacker who showed up for shifts two to three hours late consistently, left early, took 1-2 hour breaks at a time (we're allowed 2 15-minute breaks and a half hour for lunch).  Usually there was a stench of pot about this loathsome creature who almost never actually worked even when present and accounted for. 

One day, this coworker didn't show up until a hour from the end of my shift, the opening shift.  They brought moral to an all-time low when present and constantly barraged the helpless managers with shirking and complaints.


When Crappy Coworker finally quit, it was too happy a surprise.  

It just goes to show how important coworkers can be to a working environment.

My dear friend who worked at a similar attraction was a true Retail Whore. She was either stationed in the large shop or at one of the three or four other small satellite stores scattered about her park. 

Her management was a group of sadistic morons who knew nothing about sales, motivation, compassion, or other things you need to house a soul. 

The biggest example of this was that in the dead heat of the summer, the management decided to remove stools from the satellite stores. This meant that all employees had to stand for at least four to five hours straight on their shifts, waiting between breaks.

The rational?

That stools made the employees look "bored" and "unapproachable". 

Management bullshit. 

My friend developed chronic back and leg pains so bad that she had to take pain pills to work.

But instead of keeping it to herself, she took every god-given chance to complain to every manager that came her way and got all her coworkers to do the same.

A memo to HR was drafted telling them that she, and her coworkers would go to the state department of labor unless they did something, but before she had a chance to send it out, what should happen but the management "decides to graciously return the stools" with a list a mile long about "regulations" for the stools. 

Bullshit, the employees led a peaceful but threatening uprising and you caved.

Vive la resistance.

Picky Bitch Encounter

Rhub 021aa

Dear RHU,

I work as a butcher for a local Grocery Chain. One Monday evening, a woman approaches my counter asking if I had more of the sirloin steaks I have on sale for the week. I tell her i have none already cut but I would gladly cut her some. She agrees so I cut her a 1 inch steak showed it to her asking if this was OK, her reply:

"That's not right there's too much fat, it looks like garbage, are you sure that's sirloin?"

I replied: "Ma'am this is the sirloin." (for those who may not know Sirloin is a very lean but as with any meat there will be some fat).

So I told her I'd open a new one. I repeat the process and still she was unsatisfied promptly adding "I come from a family of butchers and that's not sirloin its way too fatty."

She then gestures to the All Natural Sirloin steaks I also carry adding, "Open one and let me see how it looks."

Again I cut a 1 inch steak and showed it to her. Still to no avail I couldn't please this woman.

Trying not to reach across my counter and choke the everliving hell out of her I said, "I'm sorry ma'am but I have no control over if there's fat in the meat or not."

To which she replies:"OK smartass, I want to speak to your manager because you're being very rude to me."

At this point I have other customers who are starting to get upset because this woman is wasting everyone's time. I tell her I'm the evening manager since I'm the only one there at night and have been there for 4 years.


She now has that you're-full-of-shit look on her face, so I call the store manager who is working that evening who happens to like me. He knows how hard I work for how little pay I make.

This woman starts bitching profusely, saying she knows the owner and how appalled she is to have such rude people serve her, to which he replies: "Really so do I, would you like me to call him for you so you can complain about us?"

Did that ever shut her mouth, then she says, "This is bullshit and I'm never shopping here again."

To which my manager replies: "I'm sorry you feel that way ma'am, but please don't get ass marks on my doors on the way out.

I don't think I'll be seeing her ever again

From a fellow Retail Slave,

Jekyll and Hyde


Hungry Piggy Shopper


From ScottyRS:

So I sometimes work in the "demo hut" at the local unique grocery store.

Customers go bonkers for anything in a sample cup, it doesn't matter if is is sunflower seed butter and reduced sugar jam sandwich or Thai chicken strips. Samples are usually quite small, often because the warehouse shorts us on orders for featured items.

One slow evening, around 8:15, a obese middle age woman waddles over to the counter. She is wearing wildly mismatched shorts and blouse. Her stomach extended far out and jiggled as she moved. A real piece of work.

There were several cups of the aforementioned SSBJ sammies on a serving plate. The woman immediately asked me if I could open a jar of peanut butter for her, I politely but firmly said "no."

All the while she was grabbing the little sandwiches out of their cups ans stuffing them in her mouth. Other customers avoiding the samples because this revolting woman was blocking the entire counter.

A co-worker, a spry old man known as the "Dairy Troll," comes over to get his lunch and observes my exchange with this woman.

I finally ask her to not take anymore, then I have to slide the plate away from her.

My co-worker says "Wow she really likes those!" loud enough for her to her.

She finally relents and retreats to the nearby bathroom, presumably to take an enormous shit.

"She's going to be a while," the Dairy Troll says. "There's a lot stuck up there."

Just another day in the grocery game.