Retail Balls Award: It Goes Up The Chain Of Command, Before Rolling Downhill


TechTygerFrom TechTyger

I had a guy who was routinely abusive to people, thinking he was better than us so he didn't have to be at all polite and put one of the call entry girls in tears. So I had her transfer him to me.

I started typing everything he was saying as he was saying it and he went on for a minute or so before he caught on I was doing it. (I could type 120 wpm at the time, on an IBM Model M clicky keyboard... it'd once been described as 'two skeletons wearing tap shoes having a gunfight during a hailstorm on a tin roof over a rattlesnake farm').

I hadn't said a word other than 'can I have your case number'... He started yelling about how I couldn't do that and he'd have me fired and more abuse, and I took every bit of it down verbatim, with no censoring.

Once he'd finally figured out that I wasn't intimidated, he ran down.

TechTyger: "You done? Now, what's your actual problem?"

He finally told me, and it was something stupid that I could have fixed ten minutes ago if he'd just shut the fuck up and told me.

Balls award5I fixed it, and did the ending spiel, he hung up, and I sent email to my supervisor and my manager with the ticket number and the explanation. At the time, calls were only recorded randomly, due to the lack of sophistication and copper phone lines (Noe, anywhere you call that says 'call may be recorded', the call IS being recorded) but fortunately that was one of them.

So, it went up to my manager's manager, to HIS boss, to the director for the entire account, over to their management, then rolled downhill and landed on this guy.

The next time he called in he was very, very polite. I found out unofficially later that he was required to call his supervisor for permission before he called the helpdesk and had been told (After other complaints, not just mine; the others were brushed off as 'the customer is...', well, you know. I won't write something that offensive here) that if the got one more complaint that he would be out on his ass so fast his pants would catch on fire from the friction.

I knew he knew it was me, when he called, from my voice and my keyboard, so he was extra super polite. It was lovely. :D




Justice Served: It's Who You Know



A buddy of mine shared this story with me. A coworker mixed his entitlement with bad parking in a company parking lot.

Now, parking was a little limited here: you got your parking spot with your name on it, and that was where you parked. Everybody who is an employee has a spot, so anybody parking in your spot will experience some retaliation. Towing was common. Ticketing and towing was a sweet double deal.

But my buddy? He was going to take no shit, and he made it damn clear that not only was he a genius, but he was an EVIL genius.

One of the engineers in his department got a brand new BMW, and proceeded to speshul sneuxflayke his way into trouble. Deciding that he couldn't POSSIBLY suffer for his life choices in any way, he parked across both his AND my buddy's parking space one morning; taking them both up.

Well, the company had several gantry cranes, like the ones you would use to move stacked cargo container boxes. My buddy, for the cost of a six pack of ice cold soda, got one of the crane operators to pick the offending car up. It was then set down in between two chilling units for the environmental systems in the building. There was about three inches of clearance between the car doors and the chillers.

The chillers were inside a chain link fence.

The BMW owner got the message.



Read more Justice Served stories here!


Justice Served: Adding Insult To Injury



I was driving long haul, into the Chicago area, near Marshall Field's rear docks.

That street was narrow, so it had signs about no parking. Trucks could not make the turn if there was a car near the corner.

Well some pea brained idiot decided to plant their ass between the 'no parking' signs.... I guess thinking they could pretend that they weren't parked under the sign, therefore they were exempt.

Well, along comes my truck, and find myself stuck. I can't back up, and to go forward would involve destroying the car.

A traffic cop came along and instructed me to run over the idiot's vehicle if I had to. You guessed it: my truck took the nose off that car.

The officer added insult to injury by putting two citations on the car. One was for parking in the no parking zone. The other? My huge ass truck not only destroyed its front end, but it also shoved the itty bitty little car pretty far up onto the curb!

I would have loved to have seen the look on that pea brained idiot's face when he saw the damage and the citations.

It certainly cured the problem of people parking there, for a little while anyhow!



Justice Served: The Pinto And The Forklift


Jason bored 1From RHUer

Way back in my college days (daze?) I was working at Builders Emporium, a hardware store chain in my area. It was the middle of spring and we were having a big weekend sale on everything.

Our lumber and garden departments had a lot of inventory outside the store, sort of ringing the building, including various types of cement. As the afternoon came on, a rare rain storm starting blowing into the area, and the store manager told me to get the forklift and bring the pallets of cement back into the store.

I hopped to it, but quickly realized that the lumber department main doorway - about the size of three garage doors - was blocked by the car of a customer. Customers often parked there when they needed to load something conveniently, but they were always nearby.

Well, there was nobody near this little Ford Pinto, which was parked with the doors locked. So I did a store-wide page asking whomever was parked there to please move. As I am waiting, the rain starts. Light at first but getting heavy. I covered the cement with a few tarps, but it still needed to get inside so we could then bring in other items we didn't want out in the rain.

I did another page and then said, "Screw it."

So I maneuvered the forklift gently under the Pinto, lifted it out of the way, and set it down in a nearby parking space. Well, wouldn't you know it? At that exact moment the owner of the car emerged and proceeded to the riot act.

I asked him why he had parked in a way that blocked our door? And also if he heard my pages?

He said he parked there because "I was only going to be a minute." And though he heard my pages, he thought it could wait.

Well, he filed a complaint but the company backed me up all the way. The guy took his car to a mechanic to have it checked for damage and the result: NONE.

So he couldn't even have the satisfaction of suing me for "his" troubles. HAHA!



Piggy Shopper Hell: Petty Revenge Over Abandoned Items


Piggy shoppersFrom Katie

As a cashier, piggy customers are a real pet peeve of mine:

I can't count the times that the custy will SEE me looking at them, and instead of handing me an item and saying "I don't want this," they will still cram it in the magazine rack, or toss it on a shelf.

When I do see it, I usually say, "I can take that for you."

Most often times, I am ignored. If I am, I take great pleasure in performing some petty revenge:

I will saunter slowly out to where they put the item, and pick it up ...and just smile at them. "Oh, sorry, I guess you didn't hear me. I guess you have to wait for me to get back to my register now."

Then I saunter slowly back, peruse the item with an expression of deep thoughtfulness, and then bend down and slowly, gently tuck it into the go back bin I have under the register.

Then I smile cheerfully, "Sorry about the wait, but I am required to keep my register area tidy. So when things are out of order, I have to clean it up. I'm sure you can understand why people who just... shove things into random places can be SUCH a pain for those who are in a hurry!"

A lot of people get red faced and quiet after that.

Only once did someone have the balls to tell me that I could have waited until I had a free moment.

I gave them a huge smile and said, "I DID have a free moment, and I could have taken the item and saved time if the item had been handed to me when I asked for it."



Justice Served: "If You Have Time To Lean..."


F2From RHUer

My manager was absolutely anal about that loathed phrase, "If you have time to lean, you have time to clean!"

Stop to take a drink of water? The phrase was bellowed across the store.

Pause to retie that damn shoelace you keep tripping over? Storming over to you to snarl it in your ear as you struggle to balance on one foot.

Slip on something and have to grab a shelf to avoid landing on your ass? Crank it up to Volume 11, people!

Now keep in mind, our place can only be kept so clean during business hours. Even mopping the floor is only ever done before or after hours, because nobody has the time to mop around half a dozen customers who are trying to shop for their product.

So short of randomly tugging a clorox wipe out of its bottle and giving the front counter a cursory wipe, cleaning instead of leaning is utter bullshit. We have other duties, and it's not unreasonable to do the minor aforementioned things.

But my manager won't hear of it. So I finally got fed up and grabbed a disposable camera... or five... and was on my manager like a paparazzi on the tanned buttcheeks of a supermodel wearing a bikini. For five days that week, I filled my camera with instances of him "leaning" against random things. I learned that he was a "Do as I say, not as I do," kind of guy. It filled me with vindictive pleasure to get shots of him leaning but not cleaning.

The following week, I ninja'd my ass into the breakroom and tacked Every. Single. Picture. to the Announcements pegboard. I wallpapered that cork board and the wall around it with pictures of my manager leaning against all sorts of shit. I hung a custom made banner with my manager's FAVORITE line above them all.

Then I left it alone.

The manager came in at noon.


My photos and banner disappeared without fanfare.

The entire day was spent blissfully unbothered by my manager's usual bellowing of the phrase. The day stretched to a week. Then to a month. Six months later, I got a job somewhere else. I never again heard that phrase so much as whispered in that store.

I forget what it cost to get all that stuff made, but the final verdict was: "Worth it."