Movie Theater Hell: Custy's Freakout Becomes Slave's Win

Movieskullies From TechChewToy:

I'm a vet tech student nowadays but I worked for ehhh...almost 12 years in different customer service jobs and boy to I have some stories!!

Theater Writer reminded me a bit of one my stint at a movie theater. I did everything but projectionist at this place- ticket sales, concession, doorperson, and most importantly to this story, customer service person. You know if you have an issue at the theater and you go to the front and say "Hey, some kid won't shut the eff up!" and the person says "Oh, I'll just go right in and take care of that!"

Well, I was that person.

Thing is, I was also 16 years old and 5 foot 4.  *lol* Not exactly an imposing figure! Still, years of drama and show choir stood me in good stead and I got pretty good at holding my own against the various psychos, NATS (and boy, do I have stories of THEM!), and crustys.

My FAVORITE story though, by far, is the story of the diet lady.

It was late afternoon, well into the 'rush' period at a theater, when people are getting off work/school and ready to come in and see a show. I was working customer service desk and studying for a test- a common thing for me to do, because I was set higher than the floor and my desk had one of those overhang things where people couldn't see what was on the desk in front of me.

So, I hear one of the doorguys start raising his voice to someone and, like a good slave, I go over to see what's going on. (Well, tbh, I'm nudged by one of the assistant managers cause none of them want to do it, but that's a different story.) 

As I make my way out, straightening my vest, bow-tie, and tuxedo shirt (oh yeah, I ROCKED that tux shirt too. >.<) I see Diet Lady-mid-40s, well-dressed woman with a bag full of Carl's Jr. and a huge cup of soda. 

Now, Carl's Jr. is a fast-food joint that was right across the street from the theater. We'd sometimes have folks come in with their food, but usually they sat in our little dining area and ate, then went into their movies with no problem.

Well! This lady was having none of that! She was SCREAMING at the top of her voice about how we couldn't discriminate against her, that she HAD to have her food, that we couldn't keep her out of her movie, that she'd paid her money, etc, etc, etc.

When I got over she was trying to dodge her way past the doorguy, who was about 6'2" of big dude. He kept stopping her, being polite about it the whole time. I stepped up, gave the whole, how can I help you schpeel, and she turned to me and snarled:

"I am on a very strict diet. I cannot go without my food. You are discriminating against me by not letting me take my food into the theater."

I explained to her that she could eat it in our dining area, she said no, that she was going to watch her movie. I offered to give her a later showing, she got even angrier and said something again about being on a strict diet and that we were harming her by not letting her eat her food at her show.

Finally, when my manager came up behind me as I said she would have to either eat outside or throw her food away, she SHRIEKED "FINE!! I GUESS I'LL JUST STARVE AND DIE THEN!"

And threw the food and soda at me.

Luckily for me, I have good reflexes. She was escorted out of the theater by our security guards (who were desperately trying not to laugh!) and I caught the bag of food while the soda went flying past my head.

My manager looked at me and asked with the most deadpan voice, "So, what was her diet?"

"Uhh, a cheeseburger and french fries?"

"You had lunch yet?"

"No."

"Guess you got lucky then."

At which point she walked away and I trotted off to my lunch break with my Carl's Jr. cheeseburger and french fries.

All in all, I count it as a win. I got free lunch and a great story out of it. 

I will always wonder if that lady ended up starving and dying out of spite though....

--TechChewToy

 


Piggy Shopper Rejects Muffin

Muffinpiggy
So my sister and I stopped at 7-11 for a drink and while standing in line waiting I noticed a ballsy piggy decided to taste test a muffin.

I'm surprised the slave behind the counter hadn't noticed it, he seemed highly observant and vocal as he had no problem giving the cigarette-buying custy in front of me a lecture about how they are full of chemicals.

--Freddy

 


Coworker Hell: The Tale of Stupid

Storytime21 Hi everyone, long time reader first time you-know-the-rest. I work in a small Australian retail chain that sells kitchen-and-home-stuffof the generally tacky variety, so I’m going to call myself KitschBitch. (Hey look, it rhymes!)

Boy, do I have some stories for you. This is my first job (I’m 18, I couldn’t work earlier because of health complications) and I’ve been working here about a month. My manager is great, most of my co-workers are wonderful, and everyone has generally worked hard to make me comfortable.

Except for one employee.

Let’s call her Stupid. Now Stupid seems utterly convinced that I can’t do my job. Sure, it took me a little time to get used to it – I could rant all day about how she left me alone at the register on my first day when she knew I hadn’t been trained on how to use it, and then made me feel like crap for not magically understanding how the thing worked– but now I’m a lot faster and I very rarely need help at all.

All the same, Stupid blames me automatically for ANYTHING that is wrong in the store, and has gone so far as to take over transactions that I was handling just fine on my own because she thought they would be too hard for me. At first I let her, but I’m slowly learning to fight back.

Today was just one example of her meddling. An elderly woman came in, bought a pillow worth $19.99 with a $20 note (I remember this very clearly, as the note had been extremely crinkled and difficult to put in the tray – for those who aren't aware, Australian currency is made of a plastic-like substance that holds crinkles like nobody’s business) and so I gave her the receipt and she left the store.

Sale done, I went back to unpacking some bathmats that had just arrived. About half an hour later, I hear Stupid screech my name from across the store, so I go to see what the matter is.

“You short changed this lady!” she says. “She gave you a $50 note, and you were supposed to give her $30 change, but you didn’t! God, you’re so fucking hopeless!”

I recognise the lady and the pillow she was holding, and I tell Stupid that no, the woman gave me $20, perhaps she used the $50 note she was missing elsewhere and didn’t realise it.

Apparently this couldn’t possibly have happened, so Stupid calls over the manager, tells her that I short changed the customer, and that the lady needed $30 worth of change.

The manager doesn’t think I could have made a mistake like that, and she says this very bluntly to the pair of them.

Her confidence in my ability to get things right is met with twin expressions of outrage and disbelief (It turns out that Stupid had explained me off as being a hopeless new employee who was constantly causing problems, so Custy couldn’t have expected the manager to back me up – Stupid obviously expected the awesome manager to believe I’d messed up); I suggested that the manager count out the till, which she does, only to find that (Surprise!) everything balances perfectly.

I hadn’t done a thing wrong. Custy leaves in a hurry, shooting us a dirty look as she leaves, and Stupid gives me attitude for the rest of the day.

Now, I can understand thinking I might have made a mistake - I have, after all, worked for less than a month. But you don’t accuse me of making the mistake, you look at the evidence and see if it balances out.

This includes counting out the till, something Stupid didn’t even suggest; she was willing to give the woman $30 with no proof that what she was saying was true.

Oh, and you don’t get pissy at your co-worker because it turns out you were in the wrong! I was willing to put up with a few of her tricks for the sake of my job, but now I’m pissed....

So yeah, that’s my day in summary.

--KitschBitch

 


Drunken Custy Encounter At Stadium

OCTOCAROL 010a I work in crowd control / security / event staff / glorified babysitter for a large venue (among other venues). Just call me CSC_Slave (CSC is the company I work for). I have a million stories of people being flat idiotic (especially the girl telling off the cops, but that's another story for another time), but this one just happened last night and I needed to share.

It's not a long story and honestly, the customer (I'll still call the people I deal with customers even though I don't really sell them anything) was one of the nicer drunken idiots I've dealt with, but I found the whole thing pretty funny, maybe you will too.

Yesterday, we were helping out another CSC branch working the Indianapolis Colts - Tennessee Titans game. My job was to watch an escalator to make sure the poor fools didn't hurt themselves on it.

And trust me, if we didn't watch them, there would be problems. Big ones. Because the concept of an escalator is HARD.

Most of the time, people can grasp the concept of up vs. down and how an escalator and stairs are COMPLETELY DIFFERENT THINGS and will just ask me how they get back up to their seat (after staring at the escalator they JUST came down for a minute, awing over the fact that it's STILL going down.....I digress).

Sure, not a problem, I understand that the up escalator being across the plaza is hard to comprehend and looking over there would tax you.... OCTOCAROL 011

Until the fourth quarter, when none of the escalators go up since that's when we have mass egress (people leaving) and it's just easier if everything goes down and those that want to go up have to use a ramp and walk. Most people are cool about it.

About halfway through the 4th quarter, I stop a gentleman.....no CRUSTY (we get them too.....drunken fucking moron would be more appropriate, but...) from trying to go up.

Here's the exact conversatio:

Me: "Sir, this escalator is going down" as I put my arm in front of him to stop him

Drunken Fucking Moron: "Yeah, and I'm going up."

Me: "But this is going down."

DFM: "So I can't go up?"

Me: "No, because this is going down"

DFM: "But my seat is right up there"

Me: "Okay, but this is an ESCALATOR and it's going DOWN, to go up...."

DFM: "*cutting me up*OKAY FINE!!" and walks away

REALLY?! An escalator IS NOT STAIRS.....you can't go up them when they're going down (assuming they're working) I thought I was done with him, until....

DFM: "HOW DO I GET UPSTAIRS?!"

Me: "There's a walking ramp just on the other side of the concession stand...*points*"

DFM: "But my seat is UP THE STAIRS BEHIND YOU"

Me: "I told you, this is an escalator and it's going DOWN....use the ramp to get to the loge level then cut across the walkway to your seat"

DFM: "WHATEVER!!" and walks away again

Honestly....

Again, I thought I was done with him...UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNTIL

DFM: "BITCH HOW DO I GET UPSTAIRS?!"

at this point he either a) didn't actually look for the ramp or b) did a complete lap around the stadium, meaning he would have had to pass not only the ramp I pointed out, but also the ramp on the other side of the stadium

Me: "THE RAMP!"

DFM: "BULLSHIT!"

Me: "I"m not lying to you sir..."

DFM: *glares and stomps off*

.....................I don't even.......................

And it's my JOB to deal with these people.

--CSC_Slave

 


8 Custy Tips For Craft Store Shopping

Jason 013From Craft Grunt:

Hello RHU, it's been a while since I last submitted something, usually because I deal with custys after they leave, and the ones I deal with face-to-face don't want to give shit to the guy who's carrying their large item or showing them something (and some are even a little sympathetic when I'm doing something like painting bases), and also because I've been mopping the entryway for the nine millionth time, but I'd like to offer some tips for the custy that wants to shop at [name of craft store I work at].

1. Ringing the bell a thousand times is not going to get you help any faster. Nor will letting your hellspawn do it.

2. Our furniture is 30% off this week. It was last week too, it will be next week, and probably until the end of time. There is a reason for this, and my incredibly awesome store manager told us in a meeting: There is no such thing as a perfect piece of furniture in our store, and the company knows you will not pay full price for it. If you saw how any of our delivery trucks are packed, you'll see that it's a miracle that anything arrives here intact.

2a. That being said, don't expect a further discount for little flaws. Big flaws, probably, but little scratches and crap, don't think so. It starts at a low price, and the perpetual sale makes it lower. If you want a perfect piece of furniture, go to Ashley.

2b. If there is a small flaw and you want a further discount, I'll always call a manager. If the piece is black or has a dark finish, don't expect the scratch or scuff to be there when you turn back. I have a black sharpie in my pocket, and I know how to use it.

3. If you're looking for a more unusual item, I need a minute to think. We have an asston of shit here, and I need to search my memory of it.

4. I don't wear a two-tone blue shirt with [name of store] in orange letters on both sleeves, a dark blue vest that says [name of store] on the front with a nametag right above because I'm a really big fan of the store. I work here; ask me your question. Jason 009a

4a. I want to help you. I really do. Even if management didn't care if I did or not, I still would. That's the kind of person I am. Sometimes I don't have the answer, and I have to find or call somebody else. Sometimes, I just can't help you, nor can the people I can ask, but no matter how snippy you get, I try.

5. The store is run by a Christian company. Didn't you see their full-page Christmas and Easter ads in the paper that didn't have the company logo or deals covering it? This means that we don't sell certain kinds of items. Case in point: We do not have wine racks. Never have, never will.

6. Our restrooms are on the front wall, over by floral. Ask me, and that is exactly what I'll say. I've said it a million times, I'll say it a million more.

7. If there is a DO NOT ENTER/NO ENTRE sign in front of the ladies' restroom, I, or one of my co-workers, is cleaning it. In most cases, you want me to finish, if only to ensure there will be toilet paper in the stall.

8. We close at 8 PM sharp. If you got here any later, too damn bad. If you really wnt me to, I can get the manager closing tonight up here, but don't expect to automatically be let in. I don't care if you drove all the way across the state for one item. If you would've called ahead, we could have told you when we close, and we could have perhaps held the item you want until the 8 PM the next day.

If you follow these tips, your next visit to [name of store] will go more smoothly, and so will our day.

--Craft Grunt

 

 


Crustys Flip Out Over Credit Card Technicality and Get Reprimanded In Surprising Way

OCTOCAROL 044 From: Retail slave:

Douche clean up at Check lane 3!

No, I'm not talking about feminine care.

I was busy cleaning my area (custy service) until a man's deep voice made me jump. Storming up he yells right into my face, "HA! It's YOUR store's fault for not accepting my money! I have my credit company on my cell right now!"

"Sir I'm sorry-"

"YOU BETTER BE SORRY!"

Me continuing.."Let me ask my supervisor what's going on since I'm not entirely filled in yet."

While slightly rolling my eyes, I called for her but she told me to meet her in the front.

My boss half smiling & rosy in the cheeks looking guilty..."Yeah, you're just going to check them out at the front. The cashier said she couldn't complete the sale, he's probably right though, it probably will go through..for your sake."

Those words weren't reassuring.

Thanks a lot! I'm guessing there was a credit issue which has nothing to do with me and he's barking & flipping out at me making a scene in front of the whole store, awesome!

I'm ringing them up and due to my short sprung headache I sort of numb out his, "this is bullshit & we're not shopping here anymore."

Typical crap custys say when they get pissed.  

The mother was lecturing me about how my store systems work and that it could not have been an error with her credit, her husband makes more money than I do tenfold & works for our store's communication systems blah-dee, blah-dee, BLAH!

At this point my blood boiled, pumping piss & vinegar through my whole body.

The daughter, a teenager probably around 15, was the normal one, "Oh my gosh mom it's fixed.. you guys are totally freaking out! How embarrassing."

Indeed.

Trying to crack a smile all I could say was "Have a goodnight!

--Retail Slave