A Retail Balls Award goes to Self Scan Girl for how she dealt with a huge bitch Custy during the Christmas Rush:
Hi all, I'm your friendly neighborhood self scan girl.
right. Of the forty people that work in the front end of my store, I'm
one of the lucky ten or so that is trained in managing the self
checkouts. Now, I've been at school for the last four months in another
part of the country, and thus have been on leave till about a week ago.
And all of my shifts since coming back to my store have been snapping
my gum at the self checkout counter, using the palm pilot and touch
screen monitor to fix morons' mistakes and cleaning shit up. Because
apparently my six checkouts look like a trash can. Fuck no. I keep them
clean. So stop leaving your fucking tissues on the machines. Gross.
normally, I'm okay with this. I clean, I hold hands and babysit people
who clearly need a lot of attention or are completely illiterate AND
deaf at the same time, and I assist most times with a smile. (Unless
you snap your fingers at me. Then all bets are off, bitch. I'm not your
servant.) However, my first shift back, I get some bitch demanding some
special attention that I don't have time for.
First, she uses the
machines to check prices. So I have to void out all of these and write
them up. She did this even after I a) specifically told her not to, and
b) checked the prices for her on my palm pilot. Finally she stops. Okay.
wait! She rings in a pot on her actual order that she thought was four
dollars, not twenty-seven. Though I know the pot is twenty-seven
dollars, because I had been down that aisle earlier before my shift, I
offer to call the department and check with someone who works there. I
call, the guy tells me exactly what I already knew, I tell the woman.
Her: But the sign said four.
Me: Well, he just went and checked and it's actually twenty-seven.
Me: The tag for four dollars was for a completely different pot, one that was on clearance. I was down there not two hours ago.
Her: You can't do that. I saw a tag for four where I got this pot. The law says you have to give it to me for free now.
That's only if the UPC code matches the tag. That tag you are talking
about does not match this pot. I'm very sorry for the mixup.
Her: You're a stupid little whore. Don't know your own laws? This is a felony, bitch. I could report you to the police.
Me: Excuse me?
You are committing a felony. That's it. You little whore. I know what
you're doing. This is illegal, and I'm reporting you to your head
office and the police.
I did not take that well.
I've spent two years getting abused there by customers, and I'm not letting some bitch ruin my night.
Look, you may have found the pot in that spot. But it didn't belong
there and it didn't match the tag. I have done nothing wrong here. You
want to know why you're having a little tantrum in the middle of this
store over a fucking pot? Because of customers exactly like you,
putting crap where it doesn't belong and not giving a shit because they
think they're entitled to come here and do whatever they want. You
ignored what I said and I still helped you. And now you want to report
me for doing my job, exactly the way I was trained? Try it. I dare you.
Good luck, and merry fucking Christmas.
walked away then, straight to my supervisor, and told her what had
happened. The woman came in later and tried to pull the same shit with
my supervisor, who told her if she ever came in again, my supervisor
would have her nicely escorted out for harassing an employee.
-Self Scan Queen