Bowling Alley Slave's Pet Peeves

BowlinghellAFrom Riva:

I would love to discuss the issue of KIDS at our places of work.

What I would love even more is if I never saw another demon child at my work. Don't get me wrong, I love kids.. but keep them the hell out of my job - which sadly won't happen, since I work at a bowling alley. This alley is known for it's lounge area and bar, but that's all I'm gonna say about it without giving too much away.

Now I work at the front desk of my establishment.. doing transactions to put people on the lanes, calling in broken lanes to the mechanic, handling phone calls and reservations, and of course the business of cleaning shoes that are returned to me extremely warm and moist with an occasional chicken wing left in it (true story). I'm sure I'll write another post soon about handling the phone calls, which makes me want to purposely go home to my cat and allow her to rip the shit out of my head because that would be more tolerable.. but today I'd gonna bitch about my customer pet peeves.

Part 1: HELLSPAWN

- When I ask you for your shoe size, I completely understand that you don't know how to take off your shoe and look for the size on it.

What I don't understand is when the parent will lean down and whisper in the brat's ear what size to say to me, and renders the child completely unhelpful and useless, as now they will just spin around to hide in the parent's legs.

As the line behind these slowasses gets larger and larger, the parent keeps pushing the child forward trying to get them to tell me the shoe size because "it's so cute when she does it!"

No, after 3 years it's definitely not cute anymore, and all you're doing is helping the guests behind you get more and more impatient, giving them time to think of what insults they can sling at me claiming I'm too slow.

Just tell me the goddamn shoe size and get the fuck out of the line!

- When I go to hand the rental shoes to a child, whether it's 5 years old, or 20 years old (apologies, but this has happened).. DON"T JUST STARE AT ME!!!!

Take the goddamn shoes! You have no idea how irritating it is for me to reach over the desk to give you your ugly bowling shoes, and instead of taking them from my hand, you just stare at my hand, utterly confused as to why I'm doing something so odd. Hellspawnbowl

Taaaake theeeeee shoooooooooessssalkhdkajsdbj

- Quit fuckin' screaming. Pre-teens, I'm looking at you. These ones are worse than the 4 year olds that are pissed they have to leave cause mommy wants to go have a drink at home.

The lanes we have are directly behind my desk, so I get to hear all the loud hyena laughs and murderous screams. Really, there is NO need to see if you can break the sound barrier with your lungs while you're bowling. I know I don't feel the need to screech every time I successfully cook dinner.

- Do NOT run up and down the lanes. Do NOT throw balls into other people's lanes than your own. And If I catch you trying to "skate" on the freshly waxed lanes, I swear I will laugh when your mother comes to yell at me for her precious son falling on the lane. Biatch please.

Part 2 : ADULTS

- Watch after your own hellspawn. I do not get paid enough to babysit while you go sit at the bar.

- If your coupon is expired, accept it and move on. Do not demand to see a manager to try to invalidate what I have just discussed with you. Guaranteed the manager will take my side, especially if you're giving me attitude that a dragon would run from.

- You left your iphone here last night, you say? Since it's not anywhere in the store the day after, it's my fault, you say? Fuck you. That's what you get for leaving your expensive shit lying around. Electronics are GONE baby gone if you are unlucky enough to lose it here.

- I never get tired of hearing "You better spray my husband/wife's shoes extra good! Someone's got smelly feet!" Seriously. Never. Just like I never want to win a million dollars.

It was almost funny the first time I heard it.. but hearing it on a weekly basis.. Christ, I think I hear that little joke in my sleep now.

And for the record, you're right.. the shoes are always fuckin' rank and warm and moist..

Eeeewwwwasdiwqihdh

- The price list is posted on my desk right in front of you. If you come to my desk, look at the price list for 20 seconds, then proceed to look up and ask me "so how much is it to bowl?".

...all you're gonna get it my finger pointing to the sign and an incredulous expression from me.

Or a bout of laughter.

- Also regarding prices, yes I know we are expensive.

No, I did not create the prices myself. And I LOVE how you just stare at me with your mouth agape catching flies, because I won't give you a discount.

If you just stare at me, thinking I'M the idiot.. all you're gonna get in return is an eyebrow raise and equally blank stare.

Hey, you came to me buddy. I just work here.

That's it for right now. I'll post some actual confrontations next time, 'cause there are a LOT.. any other bowling slaves here?

I'd love to hear some shared pains!

Stay strong darlings, until next time..

--Riva

 

 

 


Discount Rat TV Show: Extreme Couponing

Discountrat
How many more people do you think will start making our lives miserable once they watch these crazies on tv?

--Care Plan Pimp

*Note I didn't embed player because the coding sucks, so to watch video click on pic and it will take you to E.T. website.

I don't get how she had her kid sitting in the dumpster with her like they were playing in plastic balls! I think the show should be retitled "Food Hoarders" her garage looks like a supermarket!

--Freddy


Bad Parent Encounter

OCTOCAROL 056 I am currently the head customer service cat-herder at a store that sells housewares and had two other sister stores that sell clothing as well as house stuff, let's call my store "HouseCrap". Call me Jadiepie. Long time stalker, first time submitter.

Been in retail off and on for past 12 years, but this story is from years back when I worked at in college, women's clothing, let's call it "Big City and Company".

A woman comes in with a little boy, maybe 3 years old, in a stroller and proceeds to start picking up clothes and collecting a batch to try on. Normal.

The kid is quiet, sniffling and a little glassy-eyed, but he's quiet and not grabbing stuff, so I'm not concerned.

I go back to check on them 20 minutes later and I notice a smell. The dirty diaper smell. And the kid looks uncomfortable.

I'm waiting for mom to decide to drop the shopping and take the kid home, but no. Ten minutes later, I look over and the smell is stronger.

I think at first that the toddler got some chocolate and smeared it.... but no. Yeah. The kid had diarrhea, it leaked from the diaper and was smeared all over the stroller and the kid.

Kid now looks completely out of it, glazed eyes, just a sick kiddo. Needs mommy to give him a bath, some pedialite and immodium and let him rest.

So I look at mom.

She's contemplating a series of outfits and has moved to the register. So maybe she hasn't seen the kid.

I speak up: "Ma'am, I think your son is sick".

She glaces at him: "He's okay, he can wait."

By now, the employee is taking over the future parent in me, and I'm waiting for stuff to start dripping on the floor, for it to get on merch, just the general foulness of the situation.

So I say "I'd be happy to place those items on hold for you, I'll even hold them until tomorrow (against policy) so you can come back after you take him home..."

Bad idea.

Mom's head snaps up and I get the slitty-eyed look of death.

"He's okay".

No, he's shitting all over my store. You are an unfit parent.

So I ring her up, with veiled looks of disdain, and she leaves.

Our store is across from the food court. After mom leaves our store, I see her across the way walking into the food court. Good, there's a bathroom there. She can clean him up and take him home.

No, She doesn't go to the hall with the bathroom, she stops at the Cookie place and gets a soda and then walks off. With the kid.

Off to the next store We all shook our heads. Should have called DFACS. Horrible.

Oh, and guess who got to put on rubber gloves and clean the floor?

I decided I couldn't deal with this anymore without speaking my piece, so I walk away and leave her to another.

--Jadiepie

 


Retail Slaves Custys: Service Hell At The Mall

Jason 020 From T-Shirt Sponge:

Holyfuckballs, RHUers, I AM PISSED. Had to get it out.

I hope you all had a wonderful, very PC, non-denominational winter holiday :3 Heheh. I did.

But I got some giftcards that needed spending so my brother and I hit the mall today. MAN, DID IT SUCK MY LEFT NUT. Which is impressive, me being female and all.

Let me begin by saying that as fun as it is to complain lightheartedly about retail hell, I do take pride in my job because I believe that hey, if you're gonna work somewhere, might as well not be a fucking douchenozzle about it. On that note, I feel that it's fairly easy to provide good customer service, just a simple acknowledgment to the customers, make a suggestion or two, and most are appreciative.

I think we can mostly agree that this is the easiest part of our job. Because lots of customers are normal people and not McFuckNuggets.

So when I get shit-tastic customer service, it makes me sad.

First I went to Gracie's (anyone who's ever played Animal Crossing will get that reference XD) and since I don't shop there, was looking for an associate to ask some questions.
<.<
>.>

Ok, no one works here. Picked out some nice expensive ass gloves and went to pay, but the cashier was crabby. But that's ok, everyone has bad days I guess. Then I went to Vicky's Secret.

Brother: There's no secret right? Shouldn't it be like 'Vicky's General Information?'"

No, apparently there is a secret because you can't find a single employee that works there and you're walking around trying to get a fitting and they have 50 different style of bras with these cryptic fucking names like 'INCREDIBLE' and you're walking through the store squishing bras like an idiot trying to figure out what the fuck is the difference and why they're 50 bucks a pop. THAT's the secret. I was LOST, folks. And begging the employees for help.

But SHIT, I must have been invisible today. So I was sad. But I did get some wacky clearance bras apparently designed to make my tits look like an M.C Escher painting.

FINALLY, we went to my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE pretzel store in the food court, you guys know the blue and white one, that my brother asked me to call Preztel Spooge Palace (Me: Why the fuck would I call it that? Him: Because I about spooged my pants when I ate that pretzel) and it was a freaking nightmare.

We stood in line once and the guy said they were out of regular pretzels, had to make more, about a 10 minute wait. OCTOCAROL 084

No problem, we sat for 10 minutes, then got back in line. We could see the pretzels in the oven, and we figured by the time we got to the front of the line again (since it was taking forever) they'd be done.

This guy sees us get in line and starts YELLING: "DO YOU SEE ANY PREZTELS IN THE WARMER?!? THEY'RE NOT DONE YET!! LOOK AT THE WARMER, FOLKS!"

I guess he was probably getting a little tired of telling people they were out of pretzels, but whoa. But as we predicted, they were done when we got to the front and I asked for a COMBO.

After we paid and got to the table, I noticed that instead of ringing me up for the combo price, he rang everything up seperately.
 
*sigh* Ok, long day. No problem. I'll go tell him.

Me: *walks up to counter next to the line of people cuz I'm not waiting in line for a third time.....I know, bad, but FUCK* Hey man, you overcharged me a little. See? *shows receipt price and points to combo price*

He immediately starts LOSING HIS FUCKING SHIT. Like SCREAMING, ladies and gents. About how the price on the board doesn't include TAX.

Me: "Right, I see that, but then my subtotal - before tax - should be the combo price and its not. It's more."

MORE SCREAMING.

Now, we're talking a difference of about a DOLLAR here. And I wouldn't have even bothered with it except that a) I had spent more than enough that day and don't have change to be throwing around and b) he had already been kind of an asshole.

So yeah, I was kind of being the squeaky wheel a little. But not in a horrible throw-the-cheese-sauce-at-you kind of way. Just asked if I could have my change back.
Didn't really expect the verbal assault >.>
 
I eventually gave up. I felt bad because this guy was ignoring his line of customers and was going to continue to ignore them in order to be right.

So I just left it. I wish I could just boycott the place like my dad does our local ice cream shop for their shitty service, but alas, my will is not that strong. I love their pretzels too much. I am weak.

*   *    *

SOME FUCKING FUCKWAFFLE HIT MY FUCKING PERFECT, BEAUTIFUL, NEW CAR IN THE OLD SLAVERY PARKING LOT!!!

I usually park in the back to avoid this because I love my car and it is beautiful and I am paying a loott of money for it, but I parked near the front today, and when I left work there was a dent in it the size of my fist!!!!

The insurance company may or may not fix it, because it might be too small to take a claim out for.

The best part? It had to be one of our customers and we were so slow today that I talked to pretty much everyone.

So the chances are high that it was someone I helped in the store today.

Fuck me sideways. >.>

Much love,

--T-Shirt Sponge

 


Macy's Pain In My Ass Holiday Sales Event

Hello RHU!

I dig the site. In fact, I recently made a parody Macy's ad for the holidays that was partly inspired by some of your submitted stories. I wanted to share it with you - and maybe you'd like to share it with your readers? Hope you enjoy!

Best, Alex

piscesvirgorising.com

* Note the actress is playing the Macy's Slave is Nicole Byer and she gets an RHU Oscar! She's an actor-improviser in NY. Her group website is http://doppelgangercomedy.com/