YoAuntie's Shaken Customer Syndrome

 

YoauntieFrom YoAuntie

I have a dear friend who visits me every Friday afternoon at the market. She has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, an autoimmune disease which causes her joints to dislocate easily. She has splints and braces to fit every joint in her body, and on an average day she is wearing at least three of them.

She was doing fairly well today; she wore a back brace, a wrist splint, and a knee brace. She left her scooter in the car, and was using a shopping cart as a walker. She went into the lavatory, and used the handicap stall as always (she has trouble standing up from a sitting position). A moment later, she came
into my store in tears.

“There’s a woman in there who grabbed my arm and yelled at me that I am not handicapped, and don’t need that bathroom stall. Then she shook me on the arm that had a splint on it! She didn’t even need the stall, because she was just putting on her lipstick and combing her hair.”

I offered to take the security team in there and have a few words with her, but my friend didn’t want to make a fuss. Luckily, the shaking hadn’t dislocated any joints (on a bad day, her joints can pop out while she’s lying on the couch). As someone with an autoimmune disease (lupus) who often gets snide remarks
when I use my scooter, I am very sensitive to “you don’t look handicapped” accusations. But my friend is a more patient soul than I am, because I will get up in someone’s face and scream the gory medical details of my condition until they apologize and slink away with their tail between their legs.

My friend decided to go home, and we escorted her back to her car (with its handicap license plate) to prevent any additional encounters. A few minutes later, I was coming back from the diner with a large diet soda and two dinner rolls when someone said quite loudly, “That’s why you’re fat.”

Me: I beg your pardon?

Regan Fuck youB----: You’re fat because you eat bread and drink sodas all day.

Me: And who gave you the right to comment on my body? Are you the woman who shook a girl wearing a back and wrist brace in the bathroom just now? I mean seriously bitch, she was wearing 3 appliances and probably leaning against the wall to get out the door and back to her cart. You’re banned from this market for assaulting a disabled person.

B----: Everybody thinks they’re soooo disabled, [and they say] poor me.

Me: Okay, I’ll call her and get her to meet you at the police station, which is where you’re going now.

I signaled to a police officer sitting in the donut shop.

The customer fled the scene, but not without saying, “You’re so fat that you make me want to throw up!”

Me: Go ahead. Just do it outside; we don’t feel like cleaning up after you.

--YoAuntie

 


YoAuntie's Valentine's Creepiness At The Market

 

YoauntieFrom YoAuntie

Our regular market days are Thursday through Saturday. But since Valentine’s Day was on a Tuesday this year, I teamed up with the florist and candy store to open a “grab and go” gift shop in the vestibule on the big day.

I was busy tucking pink tissue into red gift bags when the absolute caricature of a pervert slipped nervously into the market. He was 50-ish with a comb-over and watery eyes that wouldn’t meet our gaze, and he was wearing a trenchcoat on a day when most people were in shirtsleeves. Literally wearing a trenchcoat!

He chose the largest floral arrangement on the shelves (it wouldn’t have looked out of place at a Mafia funeral or around the neck of a Kentucky Derby winner), and threw cash and a handwritten note at the cashier.

“I need to go,” he muttered as he fled the scene, “Be sure to deliver it before 3 p.m.”

Moments later, I overheard Anita the florist complaining that she couldn’t read the note. “These aren’t even words!”

I came over and looked at the note, and eventually discerned that it was written in bad Spanish by someone with atrocious handwriting. So I grabbed the note, a gift card, and a calligraphy pen, and went back to my table to work on it.

The card started out with heavy-duty baby talk, the Spanish equivalent of googoo-gaga. Sickening really. But everyone has their kink. Rolling my eyes, I faithfully transcribed it. Halfway through, I had to take another card, because this was an 80-word demonstration of how to talk to infants.

Then my jaw dropped. The message suddenly turned profane without any warning, with a jarring combination of graphic sex and infantile language. It creeped me out. I finished the task, wrote a quick English translation on the original note, and gave it to Anita.

Because she didn’t speak Spanish, it was hard to explain the way in which this went beyond romantic baby talk and into something really disgusting, but she believed me. Her standard policy was to deliver all pornographic gift cards (which is apparently a very common thing in her profession) with a warning on the
front. So I wrote on the envelope “abre en la intimidad,” and Anita instructed her delivery driver that if the recipient gave any indication that she was underage, he should retrieve the note and bring it back so that we could call 911.

We waited impatiently for the driver to return and report.

He told us that the recipient was a middle-aged, very prim-looking woman, who said with a heavy accent, “Oh, how thoughtful of Derek to send these!”

Proving once again that “de gustibus non est disputandum” ...there’s no accounting for taste. And who knows what is happening in the "intimidad" of your neighbor's suburban home.

--YoAuntie

 


Makeup Is More Important! We Need You Now!

 

YoauntieFrom: YoAuntie

Because I'm the only person in my shop most of the time, I try to avoid long visits to the bathroom.  When I need to go, I close my gate and put up a sign which says, "It's time to powder my nose...I'll be back in 5 minutes."

I had been in the back stall in the ladies' room for less than 3 minutes when the door opened and I heard a male voice ask, "Is the [Doorbell Cosmetics] lady in here?"

This was accompanied by exclamations in English and Pennsylvania German from the women who were waiting to use the facilities.

Me: "I'm here, and I'll be out in a moment!"

Man: "But my wife needs you right now!"

I recognized the voice as the tiny and soft-spoken husband of my most formidable customer.  She is a massively obese woman with vividly red dyed hair, fingernails like Wolverine, and enough makeup to drown Tammy Faye Bakker.  She rides a scooter decorated with Hello Kitty decals and rhinestones.  She is loud, foul-mouthed, and simply nasty.  The customers featured on the "People of Walmart" website would probably tell her to tone it down a little bit.

On the other hand, she spends over $200 in my shop every month...lots of makeup, body care, and fragrances, but she also special-orders lingerie from our catalog in a ridiculously small size.  (I wear one size larger than this, and I weigh about 200 pounds LESS than she does.)  The visual images associated with these purchases have scarred me for life.

CosmeticcowMe: Tell her that I'll be out in a moment.

Henpecked Husband: But she said that she needs you right now!

Me:  Is she looking for makeup, or does she need CPR?  

H.H.:  Uh, makeup.

ME: Then tell her that I'll be out in a moment.

When I came out of the bathroom less than a minute later, I got a severe tongue-lashing from my customer...followed by a $100 lingerie order.

--YoAuntie

 


Useless Coworker Makes Sexist Remark

 

CosmeticcowBeautyQueen here again, and would you look at that, I've got a story from the cosmetics side of hell!

It's definitely few and far between, because aside from a few crustys not knowing how to properly form a line or wait while I'm on the phone with a customer asking about products or calling back to talk about the products they sampled, it's pretty decent. My hand to God, I have never run into a hellaciously bad customer working in cosmetics.

The co-workers, however, are a whole 'nother story.

With my store being as small as it is, 'promotions' are so common you can hardly call them that. It's more job duties for the same amount of money, and in our store, we have a whole bunch of Cash Supervisors to cash people out at the end of the night.

We have one guy in particular I absolutely loathe. The only person in the entire store, in fact, that I cannot stand to be around. Dude just makes me want to take a nail file and hope that if I stab myself far enough in the eye it'll hit my brain and kill me, and trust me, I'm not the only one.

Coworker hellManagement hates him so much (I'm going to call him Dipshit, for short) that they schedule him once a week, if that, and when they do, it's always for 6-hour closing shifts, hoping that he'll quit and they wont have to deal with the awkward business of firing him, because the Store Manager just straight up hates firing people. It's weird, I know, but I'd rather have a manager who hates firing people, rather than one that goes trigger-happy over it.

Anyway, I happened to be closing in cosmetics one of the nights that Dipshit is working. Around 11:30pm, it comes time for me to write in the cosmetics communications binder everything I did that night (which displays were cleaned, what got faced, tagged, etc.), and while I'm doing this, Dipshit is wandering around the stores, not even bothering to stay near the registers, essentially making the exit one screaming neon sign for shoplifters, but I digress.

He wanders over to my department, makes a few dramatic sighs and looks at the time, makes a half-assed attempt at conversation (I think) by saying there's only half an hour left, and it's so boring working midnights, followed by more heavy, almost pity-seeking sighing.

Carolanne axeI am having none of that. I used to work 35 hours a week at my old job, and every single one of my shifts were until midnight, and then had to take the bus home after that. I have no sympathy for a kid who gets one midnight shift a week, lives a block from the store but still gets picked up by his parents. I'm sorry, but I don't. Even when I'm rolling my eyes on the inside, I decide that I don't care enough to start some stupid workplace feud, and agree, but say something along the lines of "Yeah, you get used to it, though. It's not as bad as it could be."

I thought my reply was pretty tame. Nice, even.

What does Dipshit respond back with?

"Yeah, must be nice to get paid to sit around and look pretty," and then wandered away.

Excuse me? Yeah, I think I look pretty fucking flawless too, but that's because I'm getting paid to show customers what they can achieve with makeup, and let's not forget all the knowledge that comes with the job. Does this punk know what Retinol is? What Hyaluronic Acid is, and what they both do? Does he know what products are organic, which ones are vegan, which ones are cruelty free? Does this fucking Dipshit know what foundation works best for what skin types?

I was so furious I couldn't even talk, and was still fuming about it the next day when I mentioned it to one of the other cosmeticians. She was so angry I thought she might break the display case from slamming her hands on it so hard.

I don't think I should be so mean to him, though. After all, it must be so hard getting paid to sit around and put coins on a scale that counts them for you.

--BeautyQueen

 

 


Classic Random Acts Of Retail Kindness: When It Goes Both Ways

 

This story was originally posted on: October 24, 2010

-------------------------

Retail kindnessFrom: Cosmetics Hellhound

Just wanted to share a nice story for once with you guys!

A while ago a customer was walking around in my store looking for a moisturizer. I spoke to her for about 20minutes and ended up recommending her a certain 4-step routine which cost her about $450.

She thanked me profusely and left.

About a week later I got a phone call while I was at work from her asking to book in a makeover with me as the skincare routine was working amazingly and had turned her skin around in only a week (She had never used skincare before so of course the results was amazing).

I booked her in and she came in about 4/5 days later.

Her skin was GLOWING.

She thanked me again for the skincare and told me how random people on the streets had been commenting on it's glow. I sat her down and spent a whole hour and a half with her (Usually it takes about 30min for a makeover but I went into heavy detail as she had never used makeup before)

I applied makeup, talked to her, and wrote down step by step how to achieve the look that I was applying on her.

After the makeover she literally just stared at herself in the mirror and started tearing up. She told me she had never felt so beautiful in her life and thanked me again and again for the attention I had paid to her.

She told me she wanted EVERYTHING I had just put on her face (Totaling $750) and gave me a HUGE hug before she left.

Awesome custysI felt so good about myself knowing that I had made her feel that good about herself, but that's not all that happened!

About two hours later she arrived back in the store with a white quilted gift bag with soft pink tissue paper spilling out the top and a card.

I opened the card and here is what it read:

The front said "You're so nice, you should start charging people for all the nice things you do."

Inside read "Um, not right now-- but in the future... (Thanks so much)"

Then she wrote ".... Thank you so much -- You took the time to help me and I really appreciate it - I'm Colourblind and shied away from cosmetics! I feel and look great!! :) You gave me the confidence!! So I will continue to apply what you taught me... So this little gesture of thanks (I hope) gives you continual pleasure."

When I opened the present it was an iPod Nano.

I started tearing up and thanked her again and again hugging her.

I just can't believe that someone would be that nice over something what I considered to be such a small thing.

Jason thumbs upIt does show that even what may seem as a small gesture can really help and impact someone's life, though.

She then told me that "If I didn't want it" I could bring it back to the store and gave me a gift receipt for it... $220!!

So remember that even though there are some AWFUL crusties out there, some can really be thankful for something that seems so trivial to us.

Chins up retail slaves!

--Cosmetics Hellhound

 

 


Nasty Ass Attempted Thieves Caught In The Act

 

CosmeticcowCosmeticCanuck here again with excellent news and some sweet payback!

So I have been job shopping around at our other sister stores because my manager has been doing some pretty shitty things with scheduling. Last year I worked all of the Thanksgiving weekend and didn't really get a chance to spend time with my family (by the way, Thanksgiving is in October in Canada). So my boss is making the schedule for October already because she likes to have everything in place, which hey, its pretty sweet having everything set out ahead of time.

Recently she hired a new girl that will remain nameless. But she gave her that weekend off, because she 'requested' it. SERIOUSLY. So me and the same girl who always work, got stuck with the Thanksgiving weekend... like last year... AGAIN. I'm pissed.

So fast forward, they are building a new sister store closer to my house and that is larger, has better hours and flexibility because of the layout of the store and the demand of the store. So I applied. SWEET HOLY HELL. I got an interview, she called and I flipped my shit, so excited. I am so sick of my crappy fucking manager and am I ever thrilled I even got an interview. I will let you know how it goes.

My other little bit of news is more of a payback treat to all the shitty parents who drop their children regardless of their age. If your kid breaks the fucking law, or damage product, I will make them pay for it. Most of the people we have issues with are either ignorant parents or kids too young, but I also have repeat issues with girls on the cusp of puberty. You know the ones with that self entitled 13 year old twit look on their face, that carry tiny purses and come in in hoards. So lets call these lovely young ladies StupidTwit 1, 2 and 3. Because they came into my store in a pack of 3.

VampireCue StupidTwits walking in, gaggling and laughing like a bunch of loons. Grabbing everything and being really loud. I'm standing there with another cosmetician and we are watching these girls pretty closely. We find thefts happen really easily with big groups of these girls. We have all these little tables that have new products, limited time products and speciality ones on display. StupidTwit#1 walks up and grabs a limited time blue mascara and walks off down the isle to a mirror as far away as possible from us. StupidTwit#2 points and notices we are watching them. My other cosmetician we will call Popsicles, because all I've ever seen her eat is popsicles.

Popsicles: "Did that girl just open that and use it?"

I look and sure enough, StupidTwit#1 has opened the container and applied it to her eyes, I watch her for a moment as she then hands it to StupidTwit#2 and she proceeds to put it on and handed it back to Twit#1. Let me point out that any 'testers' we have are already open and CLEARLY marked that they are testers. They keep looking over at us and I am sick of it and walk up to them.

Me: "Hello ladies, just to let you know that is not a tester, so you will have to pay for that." They look like I have slapped them in the face as I say they have to pay for it.

StupidTwit#1: "My friend said this was a tester so I tried it". She closes it and tries to hand it back to me holding it out.

Me: "NO, I don't think you heard me. You used it, therefore I cannot sell it to someone else, and you have to pay for it."

WolfshoppersStupidTwit#2 gets her panties all in a knot and tries to get high and mighty.

StupidTwit#2: "You can't make us pay for it."

Me: "Would you like me to call mall security and you can discuss it with them?"

Both girls turn white and proceed to go to my cash register and count out all of their change to pay for a 13$ mascara, that gee, they couldn't afford without combining their money. They left the store mouthing off calling me a bitch and mumbling to themselves, but I felt very accomplished. We have young pre-teens come in every day and damage a lot of products because they 'just want to try it' and I am sick of it because they feel like they have no responsibility.

Please, if you want to try something, ask me, or if you aren't sure whether its a tester, ask me! That's what I am here for.

May all your custies be observant.

--CosmeticCanuck