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December 2009
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February 2010

The Least Stressful Job

Blogskull11 From Jaimee:

I work part-time in a clothing store in the middle of a mall, but I am also a student at 2 local universities (long story) full time, working towards my Bachelor's degree in social work. 

As part of my Sociology of Crime class, I had the opportunity to tour our lovely city's correctional center. It was pretty decent. My class got a chance to visit just about every unit, from admittance to high security. 

This little anecdote happened while we were in the high security unit. 

It really looked like a jail over there--steel bars, boarded over windows, lots of concrete, and burly-looking guys in orange jumpsuits. 

Our group was in the office, speaking with the correctional officers, asking questions and such. The one officer spoke about how he had to "make sure they didn't wreck the times!" 

Someone in our group asked if he was stressed at work (after all, it's a high-security unit.  And those guys looked scary). 

The officer replied, "Actually, this is the least stressful job I've ever had.  I used to work in retail."

So there you have it!  Working in prison is more relaxing than retail!
Keep standing up for us retail slaves,

Dumbass Theater Custys

Movieskullies From Kat:

I am concerned for the future of humanity.

Our theater has a long ramp that leads from the doors along the front of the lobby and right up to the box office. It keeps long lines inside and makes getting into the theater a lot easier on the seniors (and we have a lot of those.)

There are also stairs that go straight up into the lobby, and spit you out facing concession's blind spot rather than the box office.

We recognize this is a design flaw, and so use red rope 'fences' to make a line, so that the stairs lead to the exit doors and the entrance feeds strait to the ramp. You can not get in the exit doors.

I can't tell you how many times we here *bang thunk* as some numb-nuts yanks the exit door with all their might instead of reading the flipping words on the door and trying the entrance doors instead.

Today, I watched a couple walk in the entrance doors, STEP OVER THE ROPES without apparently even thinking it was somehow wrong, reach the top of the stairs, and then look around in confusion wondering where the box office was.

And then they nearly cut in line because they wanted to stand at the funny angle from which they approached the box instead of head-on like all the people who walked up the right bloody way!

Ropes? They are there for a reason! You don't walk around the ropes in a museum so you can play with the exhibits! You don't step over the ropes in the bank blocking the wide-open vault, or to get into a club! Why would you walk over our ropes???

And I'm pretty sure they still don't know how to read.


(as in why do they add an invisible E to my name and call me kate all the time? wtf?! LEARN TO READ!)

Custys Freaking Out Over Asking For ID

Carolanne2 062a From The Loser:

With my first day back from a forced five day holiday, I came in expecting a nice day doing mark downs or at the jewelry counter.

Well boys and girls, that was a dream unworthy of me. Seems they saw fit to put me into Customer Service for returns, despite being only verbally trained. Thanks for being such Winners.

Now, I've done returns for the Jewelry counter before, but that is a completely different ball park.

Anyhow, this story does not concern management. It concerns a return on a credit card. I am very thorough. I check every signature. I check the card before I even swipe it for a signature. If there is none, I ask for PHOTO ID, and look at the photo and compare. I don`t swipe it if the person doesn`t look a reasonable amount like their photo. If signatures don`t match, I do the same thing.

I have had people compliment me on such a good job I do. When people complain, I lie and say that I've had my identity stolen because people don`t bother to check and that my credit rating is in the shitter. While I sometimes feel bad for the fib, it makes them shut up and think that I`m an angel.

Well, today a man returns something on a credit card. While I don`t really need to check the signature, I do anyhow, just to make sure I stay in the habit, you know? Anyhow, he scribbles, which looks nothing like the signature on his card.

I ask for some ID in the sweetest voice I have.

He starts to yell at me, about how it's discrimination.

This is the first time I've looked at the customer. I then notice that he is black. Now this may sound racist, but he was the darkest man I've ever seen, he was nearly literally black.

I myself am about as white as you can get, practically translucent (insert horrible Twilight vampire jokes here - HarHar).

I don't even start for a moment, turn the receipt and the card so he can see, and look him right in the eye and say, "Do those look the same?"

He looks for a second, "No, but who ever signs the same way twice? You're discriminating because I'm a ******" (I don't feel comfortable even repeating it here in text!).

I took a piece of paper and signed twice, quickly.

It wasn't exact, but it was clearly the same. I pulled out my ID, it was the same. I held out my hand for the ID, looked at the picture, then at him for a moment, giving him a good looking over, and said "Here you go, handsome."

And smiled, thanking him for his time and for being cooperative.

I'm not sure why people think that we're racist the moment we ask for ID. It pisses me off, because when I'm asked for ID, I just pull it out. It makes things smoother, but I will ask why. Often it's because things don't look right, or it's company policy.

Thanks for reading.

The Loser.

Custy's ID Name Missing Some Letters

Blogskull25From Arcade Anarchist:

This is a story My brother told me who is also a Retail Slave.

My brother works as a cashier at one of the big name hardware stores. They also have various appliances which is what I assume was being bought.

Some stores have policies that if possible, you are required to refer to a customer by name. If they give you a credit card take a quick glance and find their name blah blah blah.

Well on this particular day he had a visit from a very ghetto-fab woman. Lots of gold and unable to control the volume of her voice, or just incapable of speaking at a non obnoxious level.

She gabbed on her cell phone so that everyone in the store could hear her side of the conversation (I like to call these people mad-lib custys cause I like to fill in the blanks). Annoying behavior aside, most of her transaction went off without a hitch, and when it came time to pay she was off her phone.

His store doesn't have the pin-pads for customers to do all their credit stuff, so she had to hand him her card. 

He looked at the card and immediately noticed there was no full name on it.

Only a few letters and a dash.

I'd imagine anyone having trouble deciphering this name:


No last name on the card and no signature. So he asked for an ID. She hands it to him and it matches. The name "Le-a" is on the ID.

So out of curiosity and to keep to his stores policy, he asked her how to pronounce her name while he was running the card.

She said: "Ledasha. The 'dash' Aint no silent."

A grand laugh to be had.

Arcade Anarchist