My People Rants

A Tentative Update

2011-12-23T22:01:00.002-06:00

Oh, how it has been ages since I have updated this blog.

Much has happened.
Things have changed.

Not-so-unfortunately, I no longer work for the same business anymore. I've since left retail and hopped back into another not-so-favorite profession; Fast Food.
There are numerous reasons for the change in venue, not of all which being favorable. Regardless, I've worked fast food in the past, I needed a job, and it wasn't difficult to get back into. I've been at this particular restaurant for a little over a year now and, even though it's not the most prestigious job out there, it helps pay the bills. Hell, I'd be lying if I said that I don't tell myself, "I need a new job," at least once a day.

For those who may not have worked in fast food before, here is an over-all run down:
Customers suck.
Store upkeep sucks.
Co-worker drama sucks.
The pay sucks.
Customers suck a lot.
My husband quite nicely describes the work as being an underpaid, over-glorified janitor who happens to make food, as well.

But I digress.

What things have boiled down to, is the fact that I (once again) am in need of an outlet for daily annoyances. Blogging seemed to do me pretty well in the past, so I figured that I may as well give it another go. There are quite a few changes and/or updates that I plan on making to the over-all blog page, of course, so I'll probably be focusing on that before I actually get any rant-type posts rolling again. And I assure you, there will be rants to come. Our crew doesn't have assigned positions that we are cemented to on any given day or shift but, roughly 97% of the time, I get placed in the drive-thru to take orders. I'll go into more detail on that later. Until then, believe me when I say that it stretches my copious amounts of patience to the limit on a daily basis.

For now though, my bed is beckoning me into its sweet, loving embrace.
Come hither:
My lovely mattress.
My lovely pillow.
My lovely blankets.
For I wish to dream upon you,
Until the glaring sun rips me from your soft comfort,
To toil away once more.

2010-05-13T10:09:00.003-05:00

I know that I haven't been very on top of making updates, but things have been pretty hectic lately. I've got a move coming up, soon, and odds are very good that I won't have an internet connection for a while. So, My People Rants is going to have to be put on an indefinite hiatus. My job should be transferring with me, so I'll be sure to continue writing down any interesting customer interactions to catch up on later. Hope to be back here soon.

~Sally

Cake Catastrophe

2010-04-28T23:54:00.004-05:00

The superstore that I work in happens to have a deli/bakery area where customers can order food platters and specially decorated cakes from. Instances where I have to handle a return or exchange from that area are few and far between, but it does happen. Today's story happens to be about one of those experiences.

~~~

~ An older couple (roughly in their 50's) approached me with a large cake and it didn't take a rocket scientist to decipher that the woman wasn't happy about something. She slid the cake onto my counter and filled me in on what was going on:
A few days ago, she had come and placed an order for the cake. The majority of the icing was supposed to be white, with the rest of the trimming and designs being solid lavender. The message on the cake, also in lavender, was to say, "Stepping Into Spring."
On the cake she picked up, the trimmings, designs and writing were a mixture of light blue and lavender. The message on the cake said, "Stepping In Spring."

She had the receipt with her, and I was more than happy to refund her for the cake. While I was going through the transaction, she continued on about how unhappy she was of how the cake turned out. She had ordered it for a get together her church was having to celebrate the arrival of spring and the blue in the coloring didn't match the color scheme for their party at all, apparently. I also agreed with her that the wording error was pretty terrible, too. As I finished the transaction, she continued on about how she didn't have time to wait for another cake. She was already late for the party as it was. I offered up my apologies on behalf of the store for the mishap and was ready to send them on their way when something annoying happened.

I was in the process of picking up the cake to move it off the counter, but the woman stopped me. She reiterated that she didn't have time to wait for another cake, and motioned for her husband to place it back in her basket. Having just given her the money back for it, I can't say that I wasn't caught off guard. Quickly regaining my wits, I informed the woman that I couldn't possibly let them walk out of the store with something they didn't pay for, regardless of the situation. Up until that point, she'd only been agitated with the bakery employees, but it became fairly obvious that my reaction trampled on one of her few remaining nerves. I ended up having to contact a member of management about the situation. With his permission, I was reluctantly able to allow them to take the cake as a courtesy.

I can understand her reasoning for not wanting to have to pay for the cake. If she'd mentioned her intentions prior to me going through the refund, I would have had no problem calling management about it. What it boils down to is that it really just gets under my skin that she just brazenly assumed that she was going to walk off with the flipping thing with out giving me the least bit of heads up. In retrospect, I should have accidentally dropped it on the floor...

Marker Menace

2010-04-28T12:20:00.003-05:00

Well, here I am again. I apologize for my extended, unannounced leave of absence, but I do have good reason for it. The past month was and is in a rough patch relationship-wise and I just haven't been up for making these posts. Its all really complicated and not content meant for this blog, but I think I've already thought of a remedy for that. Anyhoo, I might as well get back on track. With this site having been on the back burner in my mind for so long, I don't have as many stories to share as one might think for me not having made a post for over a month, but I do have a few. Enjoy.

~~~

~ Having been scheduled to open the service deck on this one particular morning, I was cleaning up the previous night's mess when a woman approached the counter. She informed me that she was on an errand to purchase some money markers* for a place a business that she worked for. She had already checked in our stationary section, but was not able to find a single one. She queried an associate who had been working nearby, and he had apparently told her that, if she couldn't find any with the rest of the stationary, that there are usually boxes of them kept up front for the cashiers.

Now, I'm going to stop right here, specifically, to point out that I have no idea where this associate would have gotten that idea about "boxes" of money markers. Yes, we do have money markers up front at the registers for the cashiers' use, but about a third of the time I open up a register, I have to commandeer a marker for myself from a closed register nearby. Not to mention that about a quarter of all of the ones up front are dried up and useless. That being said, allow me continue with the story.

After the woman had stated her mission and current target (i.e. the store's markers,) I immediately spoke up and stated the fact that the markers provided to, and used by, the store are not for sale. Following that, I also made mention of an office supply store about ten minutes away where she would have better luck finding her quarry. To my surprise, this was unsatisfactory and she asked to speak with a supervisor. I made sure to point out that I was absolutely, 100% positive that my supervisor would give her the same information, but she stood fast in her request and waited patiently for me to find one.

So, I tracked down the opening supervisor and informed her of the situation. I imagine the look that she gave me was the same expression I displayed to the customer when presented with the predicament. We walked back to the waiting would-be customer and, as I'd warned her, my super provided her with the same, exact answer I did - No. Again, to my surprise, this woman would not be swayed. She stood firm and asked for a manager next. At this point, it was very obvious that she was prepared to climb the chain of command until she got what she wanted; i.e. A nonexistent box of money markers that are not, nor will ever be, for sale.

At any rate, upon her request for a manager, that is there my super and I drew the line. In any other case, we'd get right on finding one for her, but we knew this situation would get nowhere fast going that route. She tried to play the "Inconvenient Card" in saying that she didn't want to have to drive to a whole other store to get something we already had in our's, but we really didn't care. No matter how high she wanted to climb, there was no way she was going to get what she wanted, (be it a couple markers or a whole box) and we knew it. We stood our ground and continued to drive home the fact that there was no way she was going to be able to purchase something that isn't for sale.

After about five, long minutes, we were finally able to convince her to leave empty-handed. She might as well have walked in wanting to purchase one of our cash registers. It was a [sarcasm] wonderful [/sarcasm] way to start the day.

*A money marker is marker with a special ink designed to write clear only on non-counterfeit, paper currency.

Failed Distraction

2010-03-23T22:05:00.004-05:00

A few days ago, there was some fuss over someone trying to walk out of the store with some stuff. Things like this do (unfortunately) happen on occasion, so I didn't pay too much attention until I saw the basket of items.

~~~

~ I was checking most of the day, so I missed the majority of what happened with the shoplifter. It was only once they pushed the basket full of what they tried to walk out with up to the service desk that it struck me as to how ballsy people are. From there, I found out that it was a joint effort between a man and a woman and that the two, main items that they were trying to steal were $400 vacuum cleaners. Everything else amounted to over $2,000 of housewares items. Pretty awesome, right? And they would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for one pesky store employee.

From what I was told, one of our employees (I'll call her Tabitha) was standing near the exit to the store when the thieves wanted to leave. Because of this, the woman hurried up to Tabitha and told her that she was having an emergency. The woman thief then proceeded to coax her away from the door for assistance in finding a phone to use. She really must not have been very convincing and the man thief must have been too impatient, because as he tried to slide by a not-completely-distracted Tabitha, he did not go unnoticed. They bolted out the door when they saw her lay eyes on the basket and asked to see a receipt. Because none of it was in bags, there's no way they could even try to pretend that they had bought it. Its a bummer that they got away, but the store still has security cameras. They'll be recognized next time.

Tabitha is also preggers, and because of that awesome catch, some of the women from the front-end of the store plan on throwing a mini baby shower for her. Its not every day someone catches something that outrageous and they understandably want to show their appreciation. Unfortunately I have no idea what to get her...

Zero to Angry in 30sec

2010-03-18T12:06:00.007-05:00

Today's blog is another incident that happened a few days back. I'm pretty sure it was on the 15th.

~~~

~ A woman had four items to return without the receipt. What she had were two identical water filters (the kind that attach to your sink faucet) and two identical fishing reels. Because I already had an idea of what the cost of the filters were, I scanned one to find out exactly how much. None-to-my-surprise, it was $48 before tax. Because of this, I informed her that I wouldn't be able to return either of the filters without a receipt. That single item was above the amount that our registers will allow me to return without the proof of purchase. When I said this, she immediately dropped the smile on her face, propped her hand on her hip, entered Super Cocky Mode and quickly started rattling off questions and comments along the lines of:

>You only scanned one item! How can you tell me you can't return my stuff!?
>I've returned stuff more expensive than this without a receipt before, why can't you do it now?
>I've never heard of a "limit" on a the amount of return like that! Is that something new?
>You haven't even scanned all my stuff, how can you tell me you can't return it!?
>I know your other store would have already put it on a gift card by now. Why is this such a problem?

To which I responded (respectively) with:
>Without the receipt, that one, single, item is already above the maximum amount that our computers will allow me to return without an override.
>If someone else has returned more expensive items, that's their decision, but I know that returning these are not within my ability to do without the receipt.
>No, the limit is not something new, its been there since I've worked here and longer.
>I don't need to scan all four items, just the one is already over what I'm allowed to work with.
>You may want to bring the items to that store, then, because I know our policy won't allow the return here without a receipt.

Of course, none of my answers were good enough, so she demanded to speak with a manager. As I was leaving the counter to find one, she was speaking to no one in particular while she continued to carry on and complain. Its very obvious that she was doing this specifically to make a scene because she even chose to play the Race card. I was still within earshot when she said, "This is racist. She's being racist! There's no reason she can't return my stuff. She's just doing this because I'm black and thinks I stole it!"

Now, I will make a point right here that I did not, nor will I ever base my judgment on a return on someone's skin color. She could have been purple, green, or even leopard print and I still would have given her the same answer. Because of her comment, though, I altered my course. I knew for a fact that there was a manager on duty with her same skin tone, and I found her. The manager listened patiently as I explained the situation and even scoffed when I mentioned the woman's comments about me denying the return over color. She came with me back up to the service desk and had almost the exact same conversation with the customer that I did. The only difference is that she also had me check the price on the two fishing reels. They turned out to be $63... even more over the amount that I'm allowed to return. Much to the customer's displeasure, my manager also declined the return.

The moral of this story:
No means no. If you're going to throw a fit, I'm going to do my best to find a way to fight it. This is especially true if your turn to slander as your primary means of attack.

Coffee Catastrophe

2010-03-17T20:14:00.003-05:00

Well, its been a while since I've been able to make a post, which I apologize for. There's just been lots of stuff going on, leaving little computer time. Customers haven't been too horrible, either, but I've definitely still got stories for you. Today's post is about an incident that happened yesterday.

~~~

~ A couple approached the counter with a coffee maker that they were dissatisfied with. Apparently it took a ridiculously long time to brew and it also leaked in the back. Further inspection revealed that they had been filling it with too much water. They had already thrown the box away and also didn't have the receipt because it had been given to them as a gift. The maker still looked brand new, but because of the absent receipt and box, I informed them that all I would be able to do is exchange it for another of the exact-same model. The reason for this is in case there is something defective with their maker to cause it to take so long to brew. To my dismay, the couple was very disappointed with my response.

After hearing the only available option in my power, the woman immediately spoke up. She went on this rant about how dissatisfied they were with the coffee maker, that they were willing to pay extra for a more expensive one, how just exchanging for the same one was unacceptable, and so on. While she spoke, all I could do was repeat, "I understand," over and over until she finally gave me room to speak again. When she finally shut up, I repeated to her that all I can do is follow policy, which limits me to only exchanging out for the exact same model in this situation. Of course, that still was not good enough, so they wanted a supervisor. I found one nearby and soon had permission to exchange out the maker for a different model. Shortly after, the couple were on their way into the store to find a replacement.

I was on lunch when the couple returned to exchange the coffee maker, but to provide us with the UPC number needed to process the exchange, they brought back the display model for their original coffee pot. That, of course, needed to go back out on the floor since it was no longer needed at the service desk. When I went to move the display maker into a shopping basket, tragedy struck. I accidentally tilted the device a little too much causing the coffee pot slid off it's base and onto the floor. So not only did I get angrily ranted at, I also got to clean up a pile of busted glass, all because of one couple's troublesome coffee maker. I wasn't very happy, to say the least.

Four in One

2010-03-09T13:26:00.003-06:00

Maybe I'm just lowering my standards, or possibly I was just really irritable yesterday, but I've got four, separate mini-occasions to share from yesterday. None of them are really long enough to blog about by themselves, but together, I find them worth mentioning.

~~~

~ To start, I got to "play" with glass a lot. And by "play," I mean "clean up and prevent others from hurting themselves with it." One of the bulbs in a two-pack of long, florescent lights had busted and was pushed out of the way. Why no one else had the initiative to clean it up, I have no idea. After I'd done so and attacked the remaining pack (which still contained half the broken bulb and lots of glass) with lots and lots of tape, I placed the item in our designated basket of things that won't be put back on the shelves. When doing this, I moved a box of glass cups out of the way only to find that the box sounded as if someone had drop-kicked it across a football field. The folded cardboard had plenty of small exit points and nothing done to seal the container, either. It got attacked with tape, too. In the end, I succeed in avoiding any glass injuries on my part. Yay.

~ Next, I had another customer with a whole bunch of little things to return without the receipt. All of the items she had were things specifically known to get stolen... a lot. She must have lifted some of it from a different store, though, because half of the items wouldn't scan. Over-all, I declined the return with a big, fat "Nuh-Uh." We keep similar products of the ones that weren't in our computer, and I'd guesstimate them costing over $100 for the small handful. That's not even including the ones that I could check the price on. She had a total of around $160 in items we are just not allowed to take back without a receipt. The reason this attempted return is so mentionable is because she walked off without the bunch that wouldn't scan. Anyone who would have actually spent that much on those items wouldn't just leave them in the store. Ebay, friends, family, something would have been better than just leaving a legitimate purchase behind. She had to have stolen them and the fact that they weren't in our computer made them useless to her. Its as simple as that.

~ Also, in my list of Do's and Don'ts When Interacting With Cashiers and Customer Service, I specifically mention, in my list of Customer Service Don'ts, that it is disliked when customers, "Act as if [they've] been giving a blessing from God if there are no other customers in line when [they] arrive." Well, that's exactly what happened yesterday... multiple times. In fact, it bothered me enough that I started keeping count. Yes, I'm that awesome. The grand total is five. In one day, five separate people felt the need to mention that it was so great the service desk area was empty. It was raining ALL DAY!! It is a very consistent thing that much fewer people want to return something while its raining, or even shop for that matter. Think, people, think!

~ And, last but not least, I discovered a gentleman who could operate without his brain. I was walking back up to the front of the store when a pleasant sir approached me. He wanted to know where he could find plastic, outdoor, lawn tables. Assuming he's already checked, the only answer I felt I could give him was to, "look in the garden center area since that's where most of the outdoor stuff, short of sporting items, are kept. If they're not there, we probably hadn't gotten any in yet." When I mentioned this, his eyes lit up as if I'd just told him where to find the lost city of Atlantis. He had not, in fact, checked the garden center area. He didn't even know we had one. WHAT SUPERSTORE DOESN'T HAVE A GARDENING AREA!?!?

Present and Past

2010-03-07T23:38:00.007-06:00

Ok, I've got two things to share today. The first event happened today, the 7th. Yes, I know that you're probably reading this on the 8th, but I got off work way late tonight, so its still the 7th right now, dangit.The other happened a while ago... more than once. I'll get to that. I'm also apologizing in advance for how long today's post is. I don't usually post two stories in one, but I didn't want to wait to write either of them.

~~~

~ Today I have the wonderful opportunity to inform you that someone tried to mug one of our patrons in the parking lot. He had a box cutter as his weapon-o-choice and demanded her purse and whatnot. This genius didn't really think too hard about what he was doing, though because it was broad daylight at the time in the middle of a rather busy parking lot. A truck drove up soon after he approached her, which she ran in front of to grab attention, while he took off in another direction.

The reason I know all of this is because the would-be mugged came into the store and told me about it. She was understandably shaken up, but I still got a description of what the guy was wearing from her and called the cops. An officer showed up about five minutes later, but the woman had already left and I assume the would-be mugger was long gone, as well. I think I may start carrying a knife with me again. Or some bear spray. I like the bear spray idea.

~~~

~ This second happening is something I've meant to mention for a while now, but I just keep forgetting. While cashiering, I've come across some people who really drive me bonkers, but this one really drives me up the wall. The particular patrons in this situation are regular customers and I've checked them out at least three times now. The group consists of one caretaker and three, disabled women. Of the three, one has smaller arm that she doesn't use and holds to her side and one is getting rather elderly. I don't know how to put this any more gently, but all three aren't quite all there in the noggin. Now, before you get your panties in a bunch, it is not the three disabled women who bother me. Those three are actually very kind and sweet. Its Mrs. Caretaker who (I feel) needs to be beaten with a very large, pointy stick.

To begin with, I want to give you an idea of what goes on here. Mrs. Caretaker brings these women to the store, usually at the beginning of the month, to purchase groceries. When they do, the purchase is always very large and paid for with food stamps. They usually have two, full baskets and more food is always brought up to the register than what they end up having money for. None of this bothers me, though. I prefer them bringing more than they'll need instead of holding up the line to grab more. With all that being said, allow me to move on to what does bother me about this set up.

Mrs. Caretaker does not:
1. Push a basket... ever.
2. Help take items out of the baskets to place on the moving belt.
3. Pick up full bags to place back in a basket.

Mrs. Caretaker does:
1. Stand in front of the register while the other three woman do everything.
2. Stand in front of the register and bark orders at the other three women.
3. Nothing to help the other three women.

I HATE IT!

In one instance, she even made the sweetheart with the bad arm carry something heavy which clearly required two, good hands. The poor dear had to hold on to it with her good arm and press it up to her body to even carry it. Mrs. Caretaker never lifts a finger for them, only raises her voice. She'll even send them back into the store to pick up things she forgot. In another instance, there were a lot of items left over on my belt that they didn't have enough money for. Mrs. Caretaker asked me if I wanted help putting the stuff back into a basket to move out of the way, but I declined. I knew that if I said yes, that she'd just bark an order for the others to help me. There's no way that she would have actually helped me, herself.

While they're at my register, I do every, possible thing that I can to help those women while trying to keep the purchase moving smoothly. I wish I could do more, but I can't do everything with Mrs. Caretaker throwing orders around while she watches the purchase total climb. She always tells me what amount to stop at, so there really is no reason for her to just stand there and stare at it. There's just no excuse, at all. People, disabled or not, do not deserve to be treated like that. Even if she were under some direct order to specifically have the three do everything by themselves, I still don't see that as an excuse not to help them. I don't care if she does everything at where they live from cleaning the toilet to washing their fannies. She. Should. Help. Them.

I've thought about trying to find someone to speak to about all this, but I wouldn't even know where to begin. I don't know any of their names, where they're from, or what company Mrs. Caretaker works for. Our state's food stamp cards don't even have names on them, either, so finagling a peek at it would be useless. Because I've been working later shifts, I haven't seen them in the store for a while, too. If I do see them again, I plan on getting names, though. I plan on doing something.

Impolite Inquiry

2010-03-05T12:06:00.003-06:00

First off, I was going to name this one "Inconsiderate Information Inquiry," but I figured that would be a smidgen too long. *Sad face.* Anyhoo, today's troublesome tale features yet another jerk with the innate ability to get under my skin. Working as a customer service rep, I've come to accept the fact that my counter for exchanges and returns also doubles as an information booth for our store's patrons. Having worked up there for quite a while now, a majority of the time, if I don't know the answer to a customer's question, I know who does. It just so happened that, on this particular day, my answers to a specific customer's questions were really just not good enough.

~~~

~ As I was working with a customer on their return, a grumpy gentleman approached the counted wanting to speak with a supervisor. Because I'd needed one's assistance not but a few moments prior, it just-so happened that she was still standing right next to me. So, I eagerly directed his attention to her, and turned my attention back to the customer I was with.

Whew.
Crisis averted

...or so I thought.

Mr. Grumpy had a prepaid Visa card that was apparently giving him some trouble. He'd tried to make a purchase with the card, but it was declined. This bothered him because he stated that there should have been more than enough money on the card to have completed the transaction. Because of this, he wanted to just withdraw all of the rest of his money off the card. Unfortunately, that's now how these convenient, yet sometimes very inconvenient, pieces of plastic work.

My super was doing her best to try to answer his agitated inquiries, but it was pretty obvious that she wasn't well-versed enough with the type of card that Mr. Grumpy had to provide the information he was looking for. By that time, I'd finished with the customer I was working on and, against my better judgment, decided to step back into the line of fire. I still recall our conversation pretty clearly, but I don't carry a tape recorder in my pocket, so I can't provide you with exact quotes. The following is (in as best an order and detail as I can remember) the customer's questions followed by the answers I provided him with:

Q. I don't want to just withdraw my money $20 at a time from this thing with cash back. I want every last cent back off of it. That cashier doesn't know, so who and where am I supposed to do that with?
A. I'm sorry, but those types of cards don't work that way. Cash back is the only means of withdrawal off the card once the money is put onto it.

Q. Its my money, and I want it off the card. Why can't you just do it?
A. Our registers don't even have a command to do that for you. All I can suggest is to withdraw as much as you can or want in cash-back amounts.

Q. I don't want to do that! I want to withdraw all of it. Your store sells this card. Shouldn't you be able to give the money back?!
A. I understand what you mean, but really the only affiliation our store has with those cards is the fact that you can purchase them here. All of the rest of it is handled through the company shown on the back of the card. Their Customer Service number is on the back, as well, in the upper right, if you want to speak with them about it.

Q. I don't want to call them. I want someone here to give me the information. Can you at least tell me why your registers declined my card?
A. I'm sorry, but the only people who would be able to look into that for you is through the 1-800 number on the back of the card.

Q. I just told you I don't want to speak with them! How can your store honestly sell a card and not know a thing about it!?
A. I know quite a bit about those cards, but I can't possibly know everything because they're not run by our store. In this case, I do know where you can get the information, though. If you just call that Customer Service line on the back of the card, they'll be able to tell you what you're looking for.

Q. Look, I'm not trying to be an ass, but stores should be run better than this. Are you telling me that there isn't a single person in this store who can tell my why this card was declined?
A. I understand its frustrating, but yes. That 1-800 number is the only place where they'll be able to provide you with that kind of information. I'm sorry.

Mr. Grumpy was done with me at this point, moved off to the side, pulled out his cell phone, and finally dialed the accursed Service line. He still seemed skeptical that he wasn't going to find out what he wanted to know and hung around a bit in our customer service area while he spoke with them. I can only assume that he did get the answers to the questions he had regarding the prepaid card because he eventually wandered away without throwing anymore 'who', 'what', 'when', 'where,' 'why' or 'how's at me. In the end, my super didn't mind my cutting in on the conversation at all. She didn't come right out and say it, but I'm pretty sure she appreciated it, too. I couldn't help but be kinda proud at how easily and calmly I responded to each increasingly agitated demand for information.

~And by the by, if you ever feel the need to use the line, "I don't mean to be an ass, but..." you're already being an ass. Thank you for confirming anyone's suspicion on the matter.

Shady Dealings

2010-03-04T22:16:00.004-06:00

Unfortunately, when I made myself a note to remember to blog about today's story, I didn't mark what day it happened on. I am about 90% positive that it happened on Saturday, the 28th, though. When I arrived at the store, everything was pretty hectic. The cashiers' lanes were backed up and the service desk had a line. Making my way up to the counter, I also found that the two employees up there were only reserves who don't usually work returns unless no one else in the store knows how. So, of course, the moment they saw me, they finished the transactions they were working on and scattered like cockroaches under a bright light. It was going to be a great day.

~~~

~ Not long after I'd cleared the line that had built up and started straightening up my work area, a Spanish gentleman in a green shirt approached the counter with a question. He had a return to make, but without the receipt, he wanted to know if any of the forms of ID that he had with him were acceptable. As it turned out, he didn't have a driver's license or any other accepted, state-issued ID with him, so he asked if a friend could return his stuff for him. Mr. Green Shirt didn't have the items with him, so I agreed to have a look at them if his friend brought it in. Now, the reason why I specifically mentioned that he is Spanish is not because I'm racist or anything. Its just that his bi-lingual abilities will come into play later in this post, and I didn't want the information sneaking up on you. I also want to make a mention now that this gentlman seemed to be a bit of a fast, smooth-talker. He was definitely easy to understand, but the way he carried himself threw up a little warning signal in my head to keep on my toes.

When Mr. Green Shirt returned with two of his friends, a bag was placed on the counter for my inspection. None-to-my-surprise, the items inside of it were things that we are specifically not allowed to return without the receipt. They were little, expensive things out of the hardware section which are easy to pocket and walk out of the store with. Altogether, the 6 small items they were wanting to return amounted to roughly $60, after tax. Immediately, I informed them that I wouldn't be able to process the return without a receipt. Mr. Green Shirt frowned at this and told me that the women he'd spoken to earlier said that they would return the stuff if he got someone with an ID. I then quickly responded that their shift had already ended and that it was up to me to make the decision now, and not them. On top of that, I made sure to throw in that the only way I'd be able to refund the hardware is with a supervisor's permission.

Mr. Green Shirt slightly brightened at the thought of a supervisor and stated that one had already given the previous service reps the OK to process the return. As mean as it sounds, I would never take a customer's word on this. I'm not even allowed to take their word, and I didn't. He saw the skepticism in my eyes and, after a couple of seconds of thought, even told me the super's name. The priceless look on his face shone as if something had backfired when I then informed him of my intention to personally confirm with the supervisor of her decision and promptly exited the Service Desk area to find her.

The super he was referring to also happens to be of Spanish descent and, luckily, wasn't too far away. When I began explaining what was going on, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised that she actually was aware of the situation. She had, in fact, been asked about their return. That surprise soon evaporated into a sly realization when I mentioned her approval of the return. She immediately showed signs of anger and walked off in the direction of the service desk. She had not approved the return, after all.

As soon as my super had Mr. Green Shirt and his two friends in her sights, she immediately started going off on them in Spanish. It was so awesome! I have no idea what she was saying, but it was pretty obvious that she was denying the return for a second time. While she spoke, I slid back behind the counter and neatly collected their items back into the bag they'd been brought in with. After my super finished chastising the men and left, Mr. Green Shirt turned his attention back to me. He picked up the bag, leaned over the counter on one elbow and said in a lower, slightly frustrated, yet still smooth manner, "What'd you have to go and do that for?" All I could do was give him a shrug and a I-did-what-I-had-to-do smirk.

In the end, I don't know how much more obvious he could have made it that they stole the stuff short of coming out and saying it. He must have tried out his little smooth-talking act with the other two employees and got shot down. He may have even thought he was in luck to see the shift change. Too bad for him that no matter who is working at the counter, we still follow policy. So, he had the pleasure of getting shot down not once, but twice...in one day...by the same supervisor...the second time being in angry Spanish...so awesome...

A Flourish of Frozen Food

2010-03-01T09:06:00.006-06:00

I'm still getting caught up on my posts since we got back from our vacation, so you'll have to bear with me. Today's story actually happened three days ago, on the 26th of February. I was, yet again, on a regular register to help keep lines down at the time that this happened.

~~~

~ A woman, her husband, and their two children came to my line to check out. The woman began putting their stuff on my belt, while I started scanning and bagging. At first, it seemed as if she was going out of her way to make sure all of her frozen food was bagged together. As the frozen items kept coming and coming, I became increasingly aware of something that I found very odd. The very final item that she placed on my belt was a large pack of toilet paper. After having scanned that, I realized that every single thing that I had scanned, excluding the toilet paper, had been a frozen food item.

Bags of easy-to prepare meals, pre-fried onion rings, TV dinners, and boxes of breakfast items are just some of the items that I remember scanning. They didn't just buy a few of these items, either. There was quite a bit. "How much," you ask? Oh, I'll tell you. These four purchased $135.00 worth of frozen, heart-clogging filth. They didn't use any regular means of paying for this junk, either. They used food stamps for crying out loud!

Now, I will admit that I do eat frozen dinners and whatnot every now and then, but having an entire diet consisting of icy, easily microwavable, pre-package food-stuff is just horrible. That's just not a food regimen that I would wish on anyone. I really don't know how they can stomach not having something fresh to eat. The fact that they used food stamps was just insult to injury, too. Yes, they can choose what they want to eat, but once they start using my tax money to pay for their lazy, obese asses is where I draw the line. There are only three excuses that I'm able to think of for these people to not have bought something that actually required effort to cook:
1. Either none of them actually knew how to prepare food.
2. Their stove is broken.
3. A combination of option 1 and 2.
Whatever the case, there is absolutely no reason they still couldn't have at least purchased some fresh produce. Someone needs to introduce them to an apple or a freakin' carrot for crying out loud. I really do hate people, in general, so much...

~~~
~Edit~
After having had a quick memory jog, I'll go ahead an add this for those who may not read the comments for this post.

~ Since all this happened three days ago, I mainly only recalled that I severely disliked this family's purchase, leaving the details a bit hazy. Now, I remember the 'why' part. The first of the items that I even scanned were at least three gallons of ice cream and other frozen confections. They also had at least two, large boxes of Hot Pockets, which have never been known to be cheap. None of these frozen items that they bought even insinuated that they were on a budget or fixed income. There wasn't a single bag of bulk veggies that they could portion out and steam in saran wrap. Everything looked as if it were chosen solely by taste which is why I was floored when she pulled out the food stamp card.

I understand that frozen food lasts longer, but I still can't see that as being an excuse, in this case. They still had more than enough opportunity to buy a few apples, or some salad mix, and eat it before it goes bad. Purely assuming that this family only has a microwave, I still feel that they could have gotten way more out of their allotted money.

2/22/2010

2010-02-27T10:34:00.001-06:00

What I've got in store today isn't really a rant, but I definitely found it amusing enough to mention. On this past Monday, a co-worker, "Katy," had the service desk covered, so I was on a regular register for most of the day.

~~~

~ An older woman came up to my register with just two, large items in her basket. All she had was a bag of plant fertilizer and a roughly 2ft x 2ft, sturdy, glass-topped lawn table. After scanning I'd scanned both items, the woman looked at her total with shocked surprise. Upon inquiry, we found that the table had rung up for far more than she expected. The price it rang up for was $20.00 while she stated that a sign by the stack of tables, from where she got her's, displayed that it should have only cost about $6. The supervisor Monica was nearby, so I went out on a limb and asked if she'd check into the discrepancy for me. To my relief, she accepted the mission and headed off to the gardening area to find out what was going on. In the meantime, the woman paid for the fertilizer and moved off to the side so that I could check out other customers while waiting for my supervisor to return.

When she got back, Monica had with her the sign that the older woman had been referring to. It had, in fact, been propped up near the $20.00 tables and also displayed the price $6.98. Because of this, my super decided to go ahead and give the woman the table for the amount on the incorrectly placed price sign. During this time, I was still in the middle of checking out a different customer's items, so Monica led the woman to the customer service desk to quickly pay for the table there. Apparently, along the way, my super took a second glance at the sign she was holding and realized that it didn't have a decimal on it. The price it was displaying wasn't $6.98, but actually $698.00. The older woman was not dissuaded by this information and insisted that she still be given the table for $6.98. Since it was an honest enough mistake made by both of them at first glance, Monica relented and still agreed to still discount the table for her.

The epiphany over the price on the display happened during their walk up to the service desk, so my co-worker there still had no idea of what the situation was. Monica placed the sign on the counter as they arrived and reached for the table to make it easier to scan. Before anyone could explain what was going on, Katy looked down at the display price and said, "$698.00 for a table?!" That was apparently the final straw. The customer threw her arms up in the air, exclaimed, "Forget it! I just don't want the table anymore!" and left with only the fertilizer.

I found out the rest of the story because I noticed the table was still at the service desk when I returned later to send Katy on her lunch break. The sign that was the cause of all the fuss was most likely from one of the larger lawn sets that the store has available. All in all, the woman really should have known the price she thought she was getting the table for was too good to be true. Even my honey agrees that you'd be hard-pressed to find a glass-topped anything for under $10.00.

2/21/2010... As Well

2010-02-26T08:14:00.001-06:00

This experience also happened on the day after we got back from our trip, but yesterday's blog was long enough that I decided to make each their own separate post. I also created a visual aid for this one via my leet skills with Paint.

Enjoy!

~~~

~ A woman approached me with three items to return: a $7 pair of boy's jean pants and two, large $50 area rugs. Lo and behold, she didn't have a receipt for any of them. Because of the cost of the two rugs, I didn't have the authority to approve their return, so I scampered off to find a supervisor. By a stroke of luck, there was one nearby, and I quickly ran the situation by her. The super really didn't seem to like the idea, but she said that I could go ahead and do the return as long as I processed each item in a separate transaction. Returning to the counter, I informed the customer of my supervisor's decision and in my explanation, I made sure to make note that our computers only allow a certain number of returns for a specified period of time per any given ID number. Slightly to my surprise, the woman calmly understood this and seemed a little too proud of the fact that she "always kept her receipts" and that this would "be the first time she'd had to return something without one."

The pants, I would be able to process by myself, but the rugs would require a supervisor to physically come to the counter and type in their numbers to approve the return of them. Just in case there were any hiccups, I went ahead and started with the easiest item. As you'll soon find out, this was a very good idea. After quickly working through the return transaction for the jeans, I politely asked for the woman's ID. Upon receiving it, I immediately took note of the fact that the whole card had a large bend diagonally through it. Almost too conveniently, the bent plastic obscured one of the numbers that I needed to type in to finish the return. This is where my awesome skills in Paint come into play.

Yes, I know it doesn't look exactly like a Texas driver's license because I didn't intend it to. The dark gray line across it is, of course, to represent the obscuring bend in the plastic. The woman spoke up quite readily at my inspection of the card and stated that the last two digits of the ID number were 60.

Now, having had the "privilege" of looking at these IDs day in and day out, I will swear to you as I am breathing right now that those last two digits were 50. The "6" she was referring to had a definite straight top on it instead of a loop curving back down. She stuck to her digits when I mentioned that it looked like a 5, but I could tell that she wasn't going to back down. So, instead of arguing, I pulled out my ace-in-the-hole: I informed her that I could not accept the ID because the obscured numbers rendered the card invalid. Defeated, she gathered her things and left.

In the end, I truly believe that she was attempting to be fraudulent. For all I know, she may have been able to walk out of the store with those rugs without paying for them only to later try and return them for store credit. With a maxed out ID, she may have purposefully bent her card in an attempt to trick me. Whether one or both of those ideas apply to this particular woman is purely speculation, but both are still very probable.

2/21/2010

2010-02-25T10:31:00.002-06:00

The day after we got back from our trip could have gone better. Unfortunately, it didn't. I had another encounter the supervisor "Monica" that makes me believe even more that she doesn't like me for some reason.

~~~

~ Upon arriving at the service desk, I found that I would actually have a co-worker, "Lissa," at the counter with me for some of my shift. This isn't as common as most of us would prefer, but it is still a welcome sight. Just before it was time for me to take my first break, Monica approached the counter. She asked that I replace one of our cashiers, "Alicia," after I took my break so that she can be trained to work at the Customer Service Desk. I didn't see this as a bad idea since we can always use more people trained to do returns. So, I took my 15min, walked back up to the front, skipped the service desk, and went right to Alicia, as I'd been told to do.

About five minutes later, one of the other front supervisors appeared, told me to shut down the lane I was on, and return to the service desk. Apparently Lissa had been sent to replace someone for a lunch while I was taking my break. Of course, neither I nor Alicia had known anything about that, so she was at the counter by herself without any knowledge of what to do up there. My super understood the mix-up and wasn't too concerned. I finished checking the remaining customers I had left in line and returned to the front counter. To my surprise, one of our other service desk employees, "Emily," was at the counter with Alicia and was training her. Up until this point, I wasn't aware Emily was even in the store. She must have been working somewhere else since I hadn't seen her all day. Just in case Emily was only helping until I was able to get away from the register, I logged into my computer and waited patiently for her and Alicia to finish the transaction they were working on. Afterward I was going to ask what Emily's plans were, but I didn't get the chance.

Monica approached the counter before they finished and said that I needed to get back on a register to help check. She seemed agitated, as if I hadn't followed what she'd asked me to do. I tried explaining what had happened with Lissa, but Monica cut me off. She wouldn't even listen the fact that the other floor supervisor had asked me to return to the counter. As if my words had no meaning, she walked off to attend to something else.

Once more, Monica has succeed in making me feel like I'm less than dirt. Why? I have no idea. I don't care how stressful her job may be, I have never given her a reason to treat me the way she has been lately. None of the other supervisors do. I really need to either get a new position in the store or find an entirely new job. Either way, I assure you that I'll still have people to rant about.

2/17/2010

2010-02-24T10:34:00.007-06:00

Well, our road trip was short, but it was definitely sweet. I love traveling to begin with and it was wonderful seeing my honey's family again. I really wish we could go visit them more often. As I mentioned in my "Heads up" post, I've got some rants stored up and now finally have the time to sit down and type them up. So, without further ado...

~~~

~ On this particular Wednesday, most of the day went absolutely fine. I wouldn't have had anything to rant about if it hadn't been for this one woman and her small son. They were off to the side of the line that I was serving and apparently waiting for someone to return/exchange something. They didn't catch my attention until the boy started wailing, though. The mother was yelling at the boy for something he'd done (which couldn't have been all that bad) while standing over him with his little belt in her hand. I can only assume that she'd popped him with the belt to cause him to cry like that. Her striking him with his own belt isn't even the worst of it. While he was standing there bawling, she started yelling at him to shut up. This little boy, who was sobbing uncontrollably at this point, stood there trying his hardest to force himself to quiet down. Since he wasn't doing a satisfactory job, his mother made sure to throw a few more "Shut up!"'s at him before leaving the service desk area along with whoever they had been waiting for.

Now, I didn't see how hard she hit the boy, but it really must have hurt. I've seen plenty of disgruntled children crying just because they can, but he is not one of them. He was crying for real, and a lot. It got to the point where I almost yelled at her to "Shut up," but I didn't. I really don't have the authority to do anything in situations like this unless the physical beating gets way out of hand. The emotional part, which (to me) is the worst, I have no control over at, for the most part. She wasn't making a big enough scene to report to anyone, but it sure did bother me to no end.

I know that, even though it is becoming more and more frowned upon, parents still hit their children. The fact that she popped him on the tuchus really didn't bother me that bad. It was the scene that followed which made me want to snatch that little belt out of her hand, beat her to the point of tears and then tell her to stop crying. I really do feel sorry for the boy, too. If she's that poor of a parent in the middle of a crowded superstore, I can only imagine what its like for him at home.

Just a Heads-Up

2010-02-18T01:26:00.002-06:00

Just letting you all know that I won't have a new post up for at least the next three days. I've got a rant or two saved up, but I just don't have the time to type them up at the moment. My honey's birthday is right around the corner and, for the next three days, we'll be roughly 6 hours away from home visiting his parents and two younger sisters. We haven't seen them in about a year now, so we're both pretty excited about the trip. At any rate, I have to get back to packing and getting ready. I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend.

Peace!
~Sally

GPS Gone Wild

2010-02-16T20:25:00.008-06:00

I'm going to be very straight-forward with my feelings about today's post before I even begin to describe what happened. I confided to very few people about what happened on this day, roughly a week ago, simply because it hit me so hard. I am being very serious when I say that what happened almost made me walk out of the store and never go back. I still don't even know what kept me from leaving. I also apologize for this post being so long, but I just couldn't trim it down while still preserving the full story. For privacy reasons, I won't ever reveal any of my customers' or co-workers' real names, but to make today's read smoother, I'll be referring to my main front-end supervisor as "Monica" and a fellow service representative as "Alissa."

~~~

~ I knew that it was going to be a bad day not even five minutes after I clocked in. Once I had made my way up to the customer service counter, having passed backed-up lines at the cash registers on the way, I made my usual preparations to open a register and get to work. I knew from the previous day that my arrival was scheduled specifically so that I would be replacing Alissa so she could take her last break for the day. Just as she was was walking off towards the back of the store, Monica noticed my arrival and instantly approached the counter. She asked where Alissa was going and immediately frowned at my response. She replied with, "The next time you see it busy like this, you find me and you get on a register."

I know that the store managers ride Monica pretty hard when register lines are long, and I can understand that her frustration was mainly toward masses of customers complaining about long waits to check out, but I did not expect that sort of anger seemingly directed at me. Alissa had already left, so Monica had no choice but to leave me at the counter until she came back. I personally didn't feel bad about relieving her when I did. If I'd have jumped on a register instead, Alissa may not have gotten that break for another hour or so. Might I remind you, not any more than five minutes had passed since I'd arrived. What a great way to start the day.

~ Later this same day, a woman approached the counter with a rather expensive GPS device. There was nothing wrong with the unit, she just didn't find it user-friendly enough. To my dismay, she did not still have the receipt. In these situations, with high-cost electronic equipment, it is against store policy to process the return without the proof of purchase showing that the item is still within it's designated return period. The customer readily displayed her disgust at my inability to do what she wanted, but before I got a supervisor involved, I made sure there was no other way I could pull up a purchase date on the device. Unfortunately there wasn't, and with alll of my resources exhausted and nothing else within my power to do, I ventured off to find a supervisor per the customer's agitated request.

Monica was walking the front end with one of our top store managers when I found her. I ran the situation by them quickly, but before I was even able to mention the cost of the item, the manager approved the refund. Monica followed me back to the service counter and stood by while I began processing the return. During that time the customer, who was irate by this point, began a verbal assault directed solely at me. She raved about how I had treated her so poorly and refused to provide her with good customer service. She went on about how our store should stand behind their products better and that the least I could do was put the amount on a gift card without so much trouble. She even lied and said that I had refused to allow her to speak with a supervisor, at all, over the ordeal.

During this time, Monica said nothing and simply watched and listened to the raving woman while I punched in the return. The whole time, she didn't back me up in the least. There was no, "Sally was following policy, as she was trained, and we're going to go ahead and take care of you this one time. Next time you will need to have a receipt." She didn't say, "We're sorry, but Sally doesn't have the authority to make the decision on this return. That's why I'm here to let you know we're going to take care of you this one time." I didn't even get an, "I apologize for the inconvenience, but Sally does have a store policy to follow. We'll get this taken care of this once, but be sure to keep your receipts from now on." Instead, I got silence.

I was mortified as the customer continued her onslaught of words. There I was, standing behind the counter as the evil customer service representative while Monica hovered nearby to override the return as a guiding saint in the woman's eyes. Humiliated and furious, I kept my mouth shut knowing that if I had spoken up, I wouldn't have been able to keep my emotions in check. Then I would have had an even angrier customer as well as a disgruntled supervisor. I said nothing as I finished the transaction and Monica entered her code to complete the override. Not a word left my mouth as both my supervisor and the horrible customer departed. With the following customers, I used as few words as possible, which didn't seem to bother them. They had seem and heard what happened. Whether they felt bad for me or were annoyed that the woman caused them to wait longer, I don't really know. At the time, I didn't really care.

Once the store had calmed down and the customers dwindled to a manageable rate, I caught Monica's attention. I'm not usually one to speak up about what happened, but having had enough time to mull things over in my head, it just felt too wrong not to. She admitted that she could have handled things better, but I can't really say it made me feel any better. As I mentioned earlier, I was already well aware that management had been pressing down on her to keep the cashiers' lines under control long before I had clocked in that day. I also knew that she knew she could have handled things better while the customer was still around. Why she chose not to speak up for me at the time, I'll never have an answer for, but what I can tell you is that Monica has completely and permanently tarnished my opinion of her.

More Mini Gripes

2010-02-15T14:38:00.003-06:00

Yesterday, the 14th, was still busy with very last minute shoppers. Because of this, I was once again on a normal register for a while to help them keep up with the overflow of customers. During that time, I had a couple experiences that aren't knew to me, I just keep forgetting to mention them on here.

~~~

~ My first gripe is not meant to be mean to the people that cause the situation, at all. Its just really frustrating when I'm trying to communicate with someone, but I first have to speak through their 7-year old child to convey the message to their parents and vise versa. If their little kid has had the time to learn as much of the English language as they do, what is stopping the parents from doing the same? Hell, they could learn it from their kid/s, if no one else. I will tell you right now that, if I ever planned on moving to a country where English is not the area's first language, I would damn-well make sure that I learned theirs as quickly as possible.

~~~

~ My second gripe was refreshed yesterday by one, specific incident. I was ringing up a man's items while the woman behind him was placing her items on my belt, as well. Unfortunately for me, neither of these customers placed a divider between their items. The woman didn't even grant me the smallest gap between their items as the least possible hint of separation. This set up makes for a very awkward situation as I unknowingly started ringing up the woman's merchandise on accident. Luckily, I had only gone through three large items when the man noticed that the things I had scanned weren't his, and they were easy to take back off.

Cashiering is a some who's poor at multitasking's worst nightmare. Between making sure you're scanning each and every item you grab, answering peoples' questions, not missing anything in the cart, bagging items together well, sometimes keeping up small talk, and trying not to drop something on the floor in the process, it isn't always possible to keep an eye on who has put what on the moving belt. That's what those little divider bars are for. When I make a mistake by scanning a second person's items because both customers chose not to provide me with that simple little indicator stick, I get very unhappy. In these cases, not only to I have to endure their looks of, "That's not my stuff," and, "Why is she scanning my stuff with theirs?" but it also falls on me to apologize for making an easily preventable, honest mistake. I hate people in general so much...

Thieves Strike Again

2010-02-14T13:06:00.005-06:00

Yesterday sucked to high heaven. It just so happened that it was a Saturday and also the day before Valentines. So not only was it super busy because it was the first day of the weekend, it was double busy with all the last-minute holiday shoppers. It just seemed as if we could not get enough cash registers open all day. Managers were even helping check people out, which they normally avoid doing. We even shut the service desk down early to have just that one more person on a normal register. It was almost worse than Christmas. At least we had more cashiers scheduled then. Oh well, let me get into the good stuff. The first story doesn't have to do with today's title, it was just interesting enough to publish. My second story today is really the good'un. You'll see why when you get there.

~~~

~ When I arrived for my shift, the employee already at the desk mentioned some sheets that a woman in the store wanted to exchange, and then scurried off to her break. My co-worker had already informed the woman that there was nothing that we can do with the sheets that she brought us, but apparently that didn't sink in. The customer, against advise, went ahead back into the store to get the sheets she wanted to exchange out. When she returned, I reiterated what my co-worker had already told her, and sent her on her merry way without exchanging them.

The problem was this: The sheets that she had brought us were obviously extremely old. She said that they had been given to her as a Christmas present, which very well may be, but whoever bought them had had them for a very long time. The sheets looked like they had never been used, but the reason that it was so easy to tell they were old is because the plastic cover was turning a yellowy-brown from age. The barcode, itself, had already turned from white to brown and was tearing around the edges. It still scanned just fine, but we didn't have the price for that item in our system and probably haven't for a very long time. The discoloration was most likely caused from long-term exposure from a smoker, and there is no way she'll be able to exchange those sheets anywhere.

~~~

~ Later in the day, a gentleman approached the counter with a question. He didn't have his stuff with him because he wasn't sure if there was anything we could to do for him. He had purchased three boxes of baseball cards. All three boxes still had the cellophane on them when he bought them, but when he opened them up, all of the individual packs of cards were already torn open. Each pack of six was missing about one to four cards and its very likely that the only ones that were taken were those which retained some face value. This, of course, was a strange situation and all I could tell him was to bring the items in and we'd see what could be done. He was concerned with his predicament, but was also well aware that there wasn't really a way for him to prove that he was lying. Each box was almost $20, though, so he couldn't help but try and see if there was something we could do. Because of this, he was pleasant enough to deal with and I was definitely willing to give the boxes a look.

After he left to retrieve his items, he instead turned to the boxes we still had on the shelf. He picked one up, inspected it and, he returned to my counter to show me what he'd found. At first glance, the package seemed just fine. Looking closer to where he was pointing, I also noticed what he was referring to. This box, right off our shelf, had been tampered with. After showing me this, he hurried off to his car to grab his merchandise. While he was gone, I took the last one of the same box of cards off the shelf and inspected it, as well. It, too, had been tampered with. For this blog's purposes, I'm not going to go into detail as to how the thieves messed with the packaging. I know the majority of you who read this blog are honest people, but I do not plan on giving the dishonest ones the same idea.

When the customer got back with the boxes he had purchased, a close inspection of them also reviled the same subtle marks of the intruders. Since the remaining two that we had in stock were also messed with, I went ahead and refunded his money because he still had the receipt. It very well may be that he was the one who set this whole thing up, but he seemed legit and I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. You can also bet that, from now on, I'm take a closer look when people try to return items that are still in their plastic wrap.

Closing Time

2010-02-10T23:33:00.002-06:00

Today's rant is over an exchange that was simply annoying due to the customer's timing. I really don't think it needs much more of an intro than that, so I'll go ahead and get right down to the meat of the matter.

~~~

~ I've got to start out by saying that today really didn't suck that bad. I get along with both of the supervisors that I was scheduled with for the duration of my shift, there weren't an overwhelming amount people who needed to return or exchange items, and all but one exchange really gave me any trouble. And, of course, that one exchange is worth mentioning.

In the evenings, its not uncommon for me to not get my last break at the scheduled time. More often than not, the reason for this is because there's no one else around at that point to replace me while I'm gone. This really doesn't bother me, though. By the time my shift is almost over, business will have slowed down to the point where it doesn't matter if I close the counter early to take my last break before clocking out. Today was no different... almost.

Roughly 45 minutes before it was time for the service desk to shut down, a mother and her two daughters approached me with some curtain rods they needed to exchange for different sizes. Because of this, I set their items on the back counter and instructed them to grab the rods they needed and to return back to the service desk to make the swap. In about 80% of cases like this, the customer will immediately obtain the new item/s they wish to trade for and come back to my counter promptly. Half of those in the remaining 20% will let me know they're going to do some shopping before returning to me. The remaining half say nothing and return some time later. Lucky for me, these three were in that last 10%, and I hadn't had my last break yet, either.

After twenty minutes of waiting (and ten minutes before I planned on closing the counter,) I paged over the store's speaker system for the customers with the curtain rods to return to my counter. Fifteen more minutes later, I had them paged again. At that point, it was ten minutes until closing time, five minutes into what should have been my break time, and those three were still nowhere to be seen. I could have already left by that time, but I felt bad just leaving their items behind. With no one left to do the transaction, the mother would have to collect the improperly sized rods and come back another day to return or exchange them. Following the second page, I told myself I would only wait another five minutes before giving up and shutting down. I still have other stuff to take care of at the end of the night, you know.

Those last five minutes passed, and I was done waiting. I collected my things, organized and signed out of my register, and was just about to take off when I looked up to see one of the daughters walking up to the counter with the correct sized curtain rods in-hand. I somehow managed to keep my brain from exploding into millions of tiny pieces and quickly processed the easy exchange for her. By the time I'd done that, pushed the day's garbage to the back of the store, and clocked out, it was five minutes past my shift, and I still never got my last break.
Sometimes I'm just too nice for my own good.

Smile, My Ass

2010-02-07T12:25:00.007-06:00

Today's blog is a wee bit late, which I apologize for. The late hours I'm being scheduled for have really been dragging me down, and a few, specific employees aren't helping. I'm determined to keep these posts coming, though. Today's story actually happened on Saturday, the 6th, and I hope I never have to experience this same situation again.

~~~

~ The day before yesterday was an extremely busy day. With hoards of customers doing their last-minute Super Bowl shopping, the long lines refused to dwindle. Because of this, I ended up on a regular register for most of my shift. During this time, there is one customer experience which sticks out very predominately in my memory. While you're reading this, please keep in mind that I do my best to be very pleasant with my customers. I greet them, ask how their doing, and so forth before ringing them up and sending them off with a, "Have a nice day." When the store is busy, this can sometimes be very hard to do. The reason I'm making a point of mentioning this is to hopefully help you to understand why this particular experience rubbed me so wrongly.

I was checking out a younger couple, who were in their mid 20's, when the gentleman started up some light banter with me. He was really friendly and almost in too good of a mood for me to bear (which is relatively hard to do.) As he was going on about how busy it was and how he knew it could be hard to put up with such a busy day, he spoke one line that has scarred me for the rest of my life. I've heard this line before, but never from a customer, and most definitely not during such a hectic day. When he said it, in my mind I could see myself leaping over the check out counter, landing on the customer, and bashing his skull into the hard floor repeatedly. He's lucky that was just in my head, though. In actuality, I just smirked and kept on scanning the items that the woman he was with was handing me.

The accursed phrase he spoke was, "Well, a smile is the most important part of your uniform, after all."

That man could have been the president of the United States and I still would have wanted to inflict major, physical harm on him. Of all of the things I've had customers say to me, this is by far the most anger-inducing thing I've had the misfortune of hearing in all of the time that I've been a cashier. I really could care less about how innocent he intended the phrase to be. Under the circumstances I was in, he could have stabbed me in the arm with a butcher knife and it probably would have hurt less. At least then I could have had the chance to become numb from going into shock.

Unfortunately, the strictly mental assault did not have the trauma force required to induce the medical emergency I was yearning for. I finished ringing up the rest of their items as quickly as possible and sent them on their merry little way. Over all, the situation finally made me realize one thing I had never been able to understand: There is such a thing as being 'too nice.'

Crooked Co-workers

2010-02-04T11:50:00.003-06:00

Of the people who I loathe, customers are a clean and clear #1. Right below them though, are definitely my co-workers with a very close second. Yesterday provided me with two examples which I'm going to share today regarding said co-workers. Enjoy.

~~~

~ Let me start off by giving you a little more of an idea of how the service desk area is set out. When walking into this area, you are greeted by the counter where I handle all the customers' items. Behind where I stand, there is a small wall with a simple, large shelf behind it. This shelf holds large bins which are labeled for specific departments in the store. Anything that is brought up to this area, and is able to go back on the shelf, is sorted out into it's corresponding bin. The small wall I mentioned is simply to hide the shelf and give the desk area a cleaner look. Behind all of that, there is a small walking space so that you can easily reach the row of bins on the floor and a storage closet off to the side.

After I clocked in and made my way up to the counter, I gave the area a cursory glance and logged into my computer. It was a little messy but not really much more than I expected. As the woman who I was replacing wandered off to go on her lunch, I took one look over the little wall to see the state of the back area and knew it wasn't going to be a good day. In fact, I was angry beyond words. I walked around back to get a better view and saw that the hardware/sporting goods bin was overflowing onto the floor. Other items looked as if they had just been thrown back there to land on the ground. Usually when a bin gets full like that, people have the common courtesy of putting what doesn't fit in a shopping basket. Not yesterday. There was so much junk in the way, I couldn't even make it to the bins on the other side of it, let alone the storage closet. Want to take a guess who gets to clean all this up, too? The one who gets to work the closing shift - Me.

I'm usually one who just keeps her mouth shut and takes care of things like this herself, but that mess was too much. I flagged down our main front-end supervisor and had her take a peek around the corner back there. Of course, the pile on the floor didn't make her happy, either. She knew who had been working at the counter and made a convenient arrangement for me. The perpetrator was still on the clock and was assigned back up at the service desk to clean it up while I gave a worker at the other side of the store a lunch break. I already knew the woman who had made the mess possesses a bit of a temper, so I really didn't expect much, to be honest. The plus side is that I didn't have to be at the service desk for an hour.

As it turns out, I should have set my sights a little lower. Yes, she'd cleaned up the mess, but instead of a big pile on the floor, it was now a bigger pile in the bin. There was so much stuff stacked up, that it was now creeping down into the bins on either side of it. Wonderful. Before the overnight stocking crew shows up in the evening, the closing service desk worker is charged with pulling all the items out of their bins and placing it all into sorted shopping baskets. This way, it gives me something to do when business slows down, and its easy for them to push returns back out onto the floor. So now, I didn't have to pick up the stuff off the floor anymore. No, I had to get all the items out of the three bins they'd fallen into instead. Oh well, life goes on.

~~~

My second story is rather short, but still worth mentioning.

~ When I had entered the building to make my way to the back and clock in, I had noticed that there were fewer shopping baskets in the entryway than usual. Coming back up to the front a passed by a store manager speaking with our main, front-end supervisor. They had been looking for the cart crew and my super was in the process of informing the manager that the two had been located. Where were they, you ask? None other than in one of their cars out in the parking lot.

Apparently, they had been trying to locate the duo for a while. From the look on the manager's face, the guys were not on break and should not have been sitting out in a car like that. Who knows how much longer they had planned on sitting out there before reappearing to clock out for the day?

I hate people so much...

A Lull in the Storm

2010-02-01T12:42:00.003-06:00

For those of you who've noticed a large absence of updates, I guarantee it is not from a lack of effort on my part. I just haven't gotten any new crazies at my counter lately. However, I did have one thing happen recently that really rubbed me the wrong way.

~~~

~As you may already know, for any transaction where a customer wishes to return or exchange an item without a receipt, an ID is required. For the ID, it has to be current and state-issued. If it is expired, the identification is not considered valid, and cannot be accepted.

An older woman had a dog collar with her that she wanted to exchange. The one she had picked up was too large and had since lost the receipt. In situations like these, I give the customer two options:
1. Either I can put the amount for the item on a gift card so that they can purchase whatever they need without returning specifically to the service desk.
2. Or they can go grab the item they wish to exchange for so that it can be traded out in one transaction.
This woman opted for Option #1. When I got to the end of the transaction where it asked for her ID though, I noticed that it was well passed it's expiration date. Due to that fact, I was not able to either return or exchange the collar because both transactions require the same information. The woman became agitated by my response and quickly asked for a second opinion.

It was early, so I went and found the only front-end supervisor on duty. This particular one is relatively new to her position and occasionally asks for confirmation on return policies before approaching the customer. After I explained the current situation at my counter, I immediately protested her decision to accept the expired ID. I was well aware that the problem was over a small, $8 item, but allowing an invalid ID for it is something I just do not like. The customer may as well have not even brought that stupid piece of plastic with her and asked for the same service. My super would not relent, though, and was adamant that I "take care of the customer" over such a small dollar amount. Instead of giving her a gift card, with the state that the identification was in, my super requested that the customer go and get the smaller collar that she needed. The woman grew more aggravated over the fuss, but still headed off into the store to fetch the desired collar.

Upon her return, I was overwhelmed with relief. She had brought back the new collar she wanted, but the walk must have changed her mind. The customer just 'didn't want to deal with all the trouble,' accepted the larger collar back, set the smaller one on the counter, and walked off. I was kind of proud of me for having made just enough of a fuss with my super to dissuade her from making me accept the expired license.

Out of all the things in the store that my higher-ups stress, having a current, valid, state-issued form of identification is up there at the top of the list. Things like spray paint, cigarettes, no-receipt returns, Sharpie markers, some over-the-counter medicines, alcohol, and high-dollar credit card transactions all require one of these accepted forms of ID. I may not have listed all the situations where an ID is required, but whatever the case, our store can get in crazy amounts of trouble if we don't follow procedure with them. So I really don't care that it would be my super who may or may not have gotten in trouble over the collar. I don't care that it was only $8. What I do care is that I saw a useless piece of plastic in place of the valid identification that she needed to have. I also hope deep down that that customer gets pulled over before she can renew her license. My super may be lenient, but cops aren't.

Better Wednesday

2010-01-27T20:36:00.005-06:00

Well, today wasn't anywhere near as bad as yesterday. I started out at the service desk, and later got moved to a regular register to cashier. But fear not! Just because the day wasn't terrible, I still have stuff to gripe about.

~~~

~First of all, not even a half hour after I clocked in, guess who walked up to the service desk. If you guessed Mr. DVD from yesterday, you are correct! He approached, with that horrid piece of plastic in hand, and asked for a specific manager by name. How he got the name, I have no idea. It wasn't any of the ones that were contacted yesterday about the movie situation. Regardless of how he came by the information, I was obligated to contact that manager. When I didn't get a response, I waved down my main, front-end supervisor. She, also, was not working when the man had appeared yesterday. She spoke with Mr. DVD about the situation and I just about slammed my head on the counter when she told him to go get the new movie that he wanted.

While he walked away, I quickly scurried over and explained what had gone down last night. I'll let it be our little secret that I failed to mention the second-in-command giving the go-ahead for the movie swap. To my dismay, she contacted the manager who Mr. DVD had asked for by name, and he also approved the trade. I made sure my super was aware that I didn't feel right doing the exchange, so she was kind enough to take care of it for me. So, in the end, the persistent pain in the neck got what he wanted. Hurray for him. Whatever.

~Being back on a regular register today also reminded me of something very annoying that people do on a fairly regular basis. This action I'm referring to is the customer making a counterfeit money joke. I'm also going to be rather specific and state that I almost never have women make these remarks. It feels like about 30% of the time I take out my money marker to check the bills I'm handed, the gentleman I am helping makes one of these comments:

"Careful, the ink is still drying."
"Just made that [this morning/last night], it any good?"
"I figured out how to fool that marker pretty well, didn't I?"
"Don't mind it if the ink smudges." *wink*
"Looks pretty real, huh?"
"I see I did a good job on that batch."
"I bet you can't tell I made that, myself."

Oh man, I could go on. I'd rank these remarks just under someone saying an item is 'free' and right above when they ask me 'if I'm paying for their groceries' on my Annoy-o-Meter. That almost makes me want to make a chart for said meter...

Bad Tuesday

2010-01-26T23:31:00.007-06:00

I don't know if it was something in the air or what, but today was just chock-full of lunatics. I had my hands full quite a few times with unpleasant returns. Out of all of them, three topped the charts considerably.

~~~

~The first situation was with a guy and his pre-paid phone card. He had the receipt, it was bought yesterday, and he would get an 'invalid PIN' error when trying to load it to his phone. The card, itself, looked like it had gone through hell and back. This particular reload card is only made of cardboard with the magmatic strip affixed to it like a piece of black tape. Because this card had apparently been in his pocket while he was at work, I wasn't even unable to swipe it to see if the minutes were still on it. The computer just would not read it.

The guy continued pressing that he wanted his money back at this point and was getting considerably aggravated at the whole situation. Because of this, it fell on me to contact FastCard (the company who keeps track of these types of cards and the PIN numbers associated with them) and find out if the minutes were still legitimately on the card before I could devise a different way of refunding the money for it. I also just so happened to be graced with the fact that this particular model of cursed, painted cardboard did not have the number to FastCard on it.

So I proceed to contact our electronics department for said hotline number. After almost a four minute wait, the first number I was given was for the T-mobile group of cards. Keep in mind, four minutes is an extremely long time while you're just standing there and tapping your fingers on the counter while your customer is trying to burn a hole through you head with his eyes. I needed the Verizon one.

Yay.

After another four minute wait, I finally got the one I needed. By this time, I'd been dealing with this customer for roughly fifteen minutes and I now had a considerable line of customers built up. My only stroke of luck was that one of my supervisors was in earshot by this time. I flagged her down just as I had finished pounding my way through the automated response system to speak with a live FastCard representative. My super then took over the phone while I hopped back over to the counter to take care of my line.

You can imagine how overjoyed I was to find out that the PIN had already been drained of it's minutes. According to the FastCard rep, it had been used the day they'd bought the card. Now I had the pleasure of putting up with a line of disgruntled customers that only accumulated because I had to deal with some [expletive], [expletive], [insert penis insult], cowboy wanna-be who was trying to rip me off.

~Later, a woman approached me with a PlayStation3. She had the receipt, the console was apparently malfunctioning, and she just wanted to exchange it. Under some circumstances, this would not be a problem. In her case, it was. She'd purchased the PS3 in September of last year. Because of this, the devise was well over the maximum in-store return period of 90 days. She will need to contact Sony to work out repairing and/or replacing her console, so I got the necessary information printed up for her.

This did not satisfy her.
She 'had her receipt.'
She 'wanted us to fix this.'
She was sorely mistaken.

I had to head to lunch by this time, so my co-worker took over. When I got back, you'll be happy to read that management told the woman the same thing. She'll just have to deal with Sony.

~And last, but definitely not least, there was a different gentleman today who ended up trudging over what little patience I had left. He had a DVD which he told me played the video, but not the sound for it. Because the movie was obviously open, I was able to exchange it out for another, exact copy. He ventured back into the store and returned with a different movie. This would not do because I'm not allowed to exchange an opened movie for a different title. Apparently, our store was out of that particular title, so I phoned another store (roughly a 15min drive away) if they had any in stock. They do.

The customer wasn't satisfied with this. His explanation was that he did not have a car and could not go do this exchange at the other store. He would not wait for us to get another copy in our store, either. Because he had the receipt, he demanded that he be able to trade the defective copy for a different movie.
I told him no.
My supervisor told him no.
One of the store managers told him no.
He eventually left the counter.

When I had gone to and came back from lunch, this guy was back at the service desk with the same issue.
The associate who had replaced me for my lunch had told him no.
A different store manager had told him no.

He was now requesting to speak with someone higher. Our premier manager had already left for the day, so I called the second-in-command for the store. While I was doing so, the gentleman had thrown some type of side comment to my co-worker and wondered off. When my call was answered, my blood pressure soon shot through the roof. The second-in-command was aware of the DVD situation and told me, "Go on and give the guy his money back." I am rarely ever affected by stress-induced headaches, but today was definitely special enough for one. This guy had been told 'no' by at least five separate people, two of which were managers. Just think of how it felt when I was told to just "give the guy his money back."

There must have been some divine being who had sensed my frustration and chose to smile on me at that choice moment, though. The gentleman had wondered away only seconds before I was given the command to relent. Mr. DVD never made his was back up to the counter and he did not get his way tonight. He had better not be back tomorrow.

~~~

As you can see, I had three separate and very different cases where the customers had their receipts and demanded satisfaction. In each of their cases, what they were asking for was above and beyond our detailed store policy. I know that receipts are very important. In most cases, they make returns much, much easier. But, for any of you out there in Internet Land who think that your receipt is a magical, gleaming ticket of wonderfulness to bend or even break the rules with:

SCREW OFF!!!

Scandalous Scanning

2010-01-26T13:37:00.005-06:00

Not too much to my dismay, I haven't had any notable situations happen since that horrible man on the 24th. However, because there were two of us at the service desk yesterday, they had me cashiering at a normal register for a while. During this time, an old rant popped into my head that I haven't mentioned yet. So here it goes:

~~~

~It really annoys me to the core when someone walks up to the service desk, throws their receipt on the counter, and announces, "That cashier rang this up wrong!" This happens far too often. The reason for my annoyance is because the cashiers are not responsible for how much something rings up in any way. They simply scan the item, bag it, and move on to the next item.

First of all, in a majority of the cases where this problem arises, the item in question was in the wrong place. Customers pick up and move items around all the time. Just because you picked up a DVD next to all the plates does not mean it costs the price on the shelf.

Second of all, our cashiers don't even work out on the floor. All they do is cashier. That's it. I, personally have never, ever worked out on the sales floor pricing items. It just won't happen unless I request to change my job position. Any price that may or may not be correct for an item is the caused through human error by someone else.

That last sentence brings me to my next point: People are human.
We're not demi-gods sent down to earth to make sure every price and item match up perfectly in a synchronized ballet of retail wonderment. I am fully aware that errors are made and overlooked. It happens. I can accept that. It still wasn't the cashier's fault.

If there is a wrong way to scan an item so that a customer is charged incorrectly in the process... No, I'm stopping my thought there. There IS no wrong way to do this. The machine goes, "bip!" and you stuff the item in the bag. Its the pricing in the computer for that particular code that makes it ring up the way it does. So, whether it be a misplaced item or just a price change error,

Stop Blaming the Cashier for It!!

They've got enough to deal with throughout the course of the day without you sprinkling your hatred over them.

Short Shift Rubbish

2010-01-24T23:24:00.002-06:00

Well today was officially annoying. Usually short shifts aren't hard to handle because there's less time for things to go wrong. That wasn't the case today.

~~~

~To begin with, my work shift was for 7:00pm - 11:00pm, so I got to finish off the end of my day by going to work. Joy.

~I'm nearsighted, and on the drive there, I realized that I forgot my glasses. Now I got to look forward to everything being blurry that's more than roughly 10ft away from me for the next four hours.

~I also had the pleasure of cleaning up not one, but two wet spills on the floor. This is because associates like to toss plastic juice containers in the return shopping carts up near my counter. When they do this, they tend to disregard whether or not the bottle is right-side-up. Then, other associates will usually throw heavier items in on top of said juice containers. This combination makes for a very unhappy me because both these spills weren't even spaced out. It was one right after the other and not even an hour and a half after I clocked in.

~On top of that, I got to listen to a couple coarse-voiced gentleman yelling nearby. At first it sounded as if these two were about to get in a fight with someone. Eventually, I found out it was just some random customer and one of our custodians hollering at a TV while watching the football game that was on tonight. GO HOME AND WATCH THAT CRAP!

~When I'd finally been there for almost two hours, I asked one of my supervisors who was going to be giving me my break. "Conveniently," there was already an associate up at the counter who knew how to do returns, but she was going to be leaving soon. My supervisor asked her if she could watch the counter. The associate responded with, "As long as she's back by 9:00." I'm sure you can imagine, at this point, how ecstatic I was that I only got to take a half of a break. I should have just kept my mouth shut and taken a whole one later.

~While on break, I even got the pleasure of finding out that my cellphone's battery was dead. It wouldn't even turn on all the way before shutting off again. I loathe not having a working phone on days when I have to drive home at night.

~Returning from said break, I got to watch a proverbial train wreck. A gentleman had a pre-paid Visa card that he had been having trouble activating. My supervisor was helping him, had the card and receipt in her hand, and was on the phone trying to get a hold of a manager. At this point, she had already decided and told the man that she was going to return his money and that she just needed to get a code from management to type into the computer to do this.

The entire time she was doing this, the man was throwing an absolute fit! He was literally red-faced with anger while yelling and cursing about how she had all of his "stuff and if management showed up, there was no way for [him] to prove [he's] right!" Right about what? I do not know. Because of this, everyone at the counter took turns trying to explain that she was doing exactly what he wanted, and that he needed to calm down. He didn't. When my supervisor finally got the code that was needed (which took no more than three minutes), she got him his money. This, of course, still didn't make him any happier. He yelled and cursed the whole time and even threw a couple threats and a racial slur at my super while he was leaving.

That man is truly the definition of a 'waste of oxygen.' After he left, I don't even remember how many people said that they wouldn't have helped him or even thought about giving his money back. My super really needs a medal for not jabbing him in the chest with a pair of scissors.

~Really the only good thing that happened during today's shift was the fact that my pen-on-a-string was still attached to the counter when I got there. I'd left it there by accident on Friday and I've had the last two days off. Huzzah for the durability of dental floss!

01/15/2010

2010-01-21T12:19:00.003-06:00

Today is an exciting day. With the completion of today's rant, I've officially run out of saved stories in my phone. Because of this, I may not be able to update daily since (believe it or not) I don't always have anything noteworthy to mention. I have to admit, it was getting kind of difficult recently to make a post every day. So its going to be nice that, from now on, all my posts are going to be current events.

~~~

~Before I get into the meat of this episode, allow me give you some back-story.
It is not uncommon for customers to need to return items without a proof of purchase. There are specific items that we, at the service desk, are not allowed to return without the receipt, though. Those items are things, such as cosmetics, small tools, or small electronic devises, which are generally expensive and easily pocketed. Last Friday was made special by the fact that it wasn't just one person that bothered me, it was a number of them.

I've declined plenty of returns without the receipt, but this day was ridiculous. I've never had so many people, within one work shift, try to return a bundle of stolen goods. Of course I'm not suppose to assume that the items are stolen, but its usually still pretty obvious. A customer who legitimately purchased something will usually throw a fit if I don't let them return it. Younger shoplifters in their teens to twenties don't, for the most part. They sometimes press the return, but seldom cause a scene and draw attention to themselves.

At first, it didn't bother me to turn the first few customers away. Then it got to the point where I literally had to decline every other person walking up to my desk. They had everything from ratchet tools to expensive craft ink. It felt as if there was a gigantic sign on the front of the store that said, "IF YOU STOLE SOMETHING AND WANT TO RETURN IT, DO IT NOW!" It got to the point where I almost went outside to make sure there wasn't.

I eventually asked a co-coworker, who has worked at the desk for longer than I have, if she'd experienced anything like that before. It didn't shock me that she had, and even to a worse degree. She also pointed out that the weekend was coming up, and they probably wanted the money for drugs and alcohol. Even though they would just get a gift-card if we did let them return the stuff, people have been known to try and sell the card for cash-money to support their bad habits.

Coins to Cash

2010-01-21T00:14:00.003-06:00

To make up for the lack of a post yesterday, I decided to add something that happened today. It isn't a rant, but it is something cool that happened.

~~~

~In the service deck area, our store has a Coinstar machine where you can put in all your coin change and, for a fee, get paper cash for it. Today a nice couple in roughly their late 50's came around the corner with a shopping basket containing three, large, 5gallon paint buckets. I honestly didn't even notice the buckets at first, I just expected them to be normal store merchandise. Boy-howdy was I wrong.

When pouring change into the machine, it tends to make quite a racket with all the metal coins clinking and clanking down inside. My attention was eventually drawn towards them when the noise continued on for longer than any other usual patron. I looked up to realize that all three tubs were filled with coins. The man had a cup and was scooping up the change for his wife to dump into the machine. Watching their actions for a moment, I caught the husband's eye and asked, "Is all of that pennies?!" He responded with, "Thirty-five years worth!"

They're efforts and the raucous coin clanging continued on for quite some time. I'm not 100% positive, but they were at that machine for at least 30-45 minutes, if not longer. After they'd finally drained the buckets and the counting was done, the machine printed out it's cash redemption voucher. I had gone to lunch by that time, but my curiosity got the better of me. I dropped by the service desk before I clocked back in and asked my co-worker how much all those coins amounted to. She couldn't remember exactly, so she went ahead and pulled the voucher out of her drawer. Here's the tally:

It was a total of 24,313 pennies as well as a few other coins that had slipped their way in.
Yes, that is twenty-four thousand, three hundred and thirteen pennies.
The total cash value was $245.68.
Coinstar kept a fee of $21.87.
They walked away with $223.81.

Altogether they were a nice couple, which made it easier to get over the noise we had to endure. Its rather pleasant, for once, to have an interesting story to tell where I didn't feel the need to beat someone with a stick. If you're asking yourself why they didn't just go to the bank, I've already got that covered because I asked them the same thing. The bank wouldn't take the change. They probably don't want any of the dust or small pieces of trash that may have accumulated over those 35 years to gunk up their expensive coin counters.

Candy Madness

2010-01-20T13:10:00.001-06:00

Before I get into the story, I wanted to apologize for missing a blog. I feel bad that the first gap in my posts had to happen while I still have saved stories in my phone. Work yesterday was a short, easy shift, but afterward was pretty bumpy, and I didn't get the chance to update. My work schedule has been rather wonky, as well, so I didn't have time to type it up in advance like I have been, either. Oh well, c'est la vie.

There's also a reason why the title for this one isn't a date. After the situation you will soon be reading about occurred, I did type it up and text it like usual. Unfortunately, I realized later that I never saved the original message. So not only will today be my first post after missing a blog, it will also be my first post completely from memory and without my little, condensed rough draft to keep my train of thought from derailing. This is going to be fun...

~~~

~The store that I work in not only has everything from shaving cream to ice cream, it also has a sandwich shop conveniently located inside of it. I'll make a point of it now to mention that my store has no affiliation with the sandwich shop other than the fact that they are under the same roof. They both have separate employees, owners, dress codes, phone lines, store names, and hours of operation. Be sure to keep this in mind, because it will be important information later.

On this day, after I clocked out for lunch, I decided that I wanted some of that yummy, sandwich-y goodness. I walked through the entrance to the sandwich shop, absently took note of a woman and her son, who were off to the side, and stood in line to wait my turn. There were still a couple more people in line in front of me when I inevitably fell victim to another ignorant shopper. The woman had I made note of had a couple, full shopping bags from my store and looked as if she was waiting for someone in line to get their food before leaving the premises. I was just lucky enough to have gone on lunch while she and her son were in there because he ended up tapping me on the elbow.

I had heard something going on behind me, but I was ready and willing to ignore it. Regrettably, after he got my attention, I turned around to see the little boy staring at me and pointing to something on the floor. When I paused for a second try to make sense of what was going on, the mother instructed her child to show me what was in his hand. It was an empty Push-Pop tube. Upon seeing this, the little light in my head sparked to life and I realized what the boy had been pointing to: a piece of shattered candy.

From what I gathered at this point, the woman must have purchased the candy for her son while they were checking out in my store. While they were waiting for whoever was in line to get a sandwich made, the kid had opened his Push-Pop only to have the unknowingly broken candy inside of it fall out. It didn't surprise me that something like this would happen. Little children grab and drop candy all the time before their parents tell them no and put it back on the shelf. The boy could have even dropped it, himself, prior to opening it. Whatever the case, I now had the task of finding out why I about being bother about this.

Once I recognized the candy, all I could do to react was shrug my shoulders and give the mother a quizzical look. Her response was, "Don't you work here?" as if to imply that I either needed to do something about replacing the candy or at least clean it up. The first thing that popped into my head was, "Oh hell no," but I'm pretty sure what came out of my mouth was something along the lines of, "Um, not in here, and I'm not even clocked in." To my overwhelming glee, she gave me a disgusted look, gathered up her groceries and her son, and left. I even made a point of not mentioning that she could have simply swapped the treat out at the service desk in my superstore where she had obviously bought it. After I'd gotten my food and sat down, I found that they had even left the broken candy on the floor and its empty container on the table.

I don't know how it could have been any more obvious that bugging me about that shattered, sugary treat was going to be futile. I had been quietly standing in line to get something to eat and I didn't even have my name tag on. That usually, to most people with more than a handful of braincells, means that I was on a lunch break. If she expected me to walk out into the superstore and get her boy a new Push-Pop, she was sorely mistaken. There is no way that I was going to take time out of my hour to replace a $.98 piece of sugar.

01/07/2010

2010-01-18T08:08:00.006-06:00

I've got another rant in store for you guys today. Its not as significant as yesterday's, but that's not going to stop me from venting about it. Now, just so that you're aware, I use my pens all day, every day. I need them for people to sign for their returns, and also to mark off items on their receipts. Unfortunately for me, some people are in the bad habit of walking off with said pens.This drives me absolutely bonkers.

~~~

~The pens I usually buy aren't horribly expensive. I think they were $2.74 for a two-pack last time I got them. The whole reason I buy them is because they're fine-point, gel pens that I know write very well on thermal paper. I even marked on them with sharpie in case a co-worker decided they wanted to make one disappear. Yes, I'm that anal over a piece of plastic with ink in it. It's MY plastic and ink, dang it!

This particular date was made noteworthy by the fact that I hadn't even been in the store for two hours before a customer walked off with one of these pens in hand, never to be seen again. Considering that I'm making a whole blog about how much I hate that, you can only imagine how hard it is for a customer to actually get away with. It still happens, though. Glee.

So, during my lunch break, I purchased another set of gel pens and a 10pack of cheapo ones. After I clocked back in is when I got really irritated. I hadn't even had three customers by the time someone had walked off with one of the cheapo pens. Really people? Come on!!! If you didn't buy it, you shouldn't be walking off with it. Its that simple.

I need something to write with for every return I process where the customer has the receipt, and they need one for every return, period. Not having a pen or two in my possession sort of throws a wrench in the works, hence my aggravation. Working the customer service desk is horrible enough without having little things like an absent writing implement getting in the way of a smooth transaction.

If you're thinking to yourself, "Why doesn't your store just buy them for you?" The answer is simple: If the store bought pens for every employee in the store, they'd most likely end up spending more on ink in tubes in one week than I make in a year with all the associates and customers walking off with them.

~~~

~Since then, I have been robbed of yet another 'decoy pen' and turning this blog over in my head as I've been typing it has actually annoyed me enough that I took a break right smack-dab in the middle of writing to do this:

That, my friends, is a cheapo pen with a piece of dental floss attached to it. It is not just tied on there, either. I used a tiny drill bit and threaded that bad boy with the string. Now I can just loop it on the desk when I get there, and take it with me when I leave without having to worry so much anymore. Someone will have to really want that pen if they intend on wondering off with it. At that point, they can have the accursed thing. I've got seven more at home that I can rig the exact same way.

01/05/2010

2010-01-17T02:03:00.004-06:00

Alrighty, today it's time for a full-blown rant. If you want to get a feel for what's coming up, take a moment to use the complimentary search bar to the right to look for my 'Free' rant. This particular scenario is slightly similar, and the hatred is definitely on the same level.

~~~

~I've had people say this to me before, but it was usually for a legitimate reason. Either, the line was long, a customer was being a severe pain, or the desk was a mess with baskets of returns. The phrase that I'm referring to, of course is, "I would hate your job." On this particular Tuesday, I had a customer tell me this completely out of the blue. It wasn't busy, I hadn't had a problematic return for a while, and the desk area was cleaned up nicely. Did she really have to ruin one of the small, easy-going windows of time that I get during the day with that horrid phrase? How do they even expect me to reply to that? Do they want me to bubble over with glee, give them a big smile and say:

"Ohmigosh! How could you!? It's so awesome working up here! I get to meet some of the most interesting people. Like you, for example, who feel the need to shove my face in the fact that I have one of the least enjoyable jobs in the store. Now you should probably leave, hun, before I rip this monitor off the desk and wing it at your head, **giggle.**"

Really, guys I need an answer. Why would you tell someone this other than to be just plain mean? Hell, why would you tell someone this specifically to be plain mean? If I'm in some random store and inclined to believe that an employee really doesn't like their job, the last thing I was to do is rub their nose in it. That isn't just me speaking from personal experience, either because I've never felt to need to do that even before I became a customer service representative. Odds are, if its a menial job you think you might hate, they probably already do. So take that particular combination of words out of your vocabulary and...

DON'T SAY IT!

01/03/2010

2010-01-16T02:09:00.002-06:00

Today's blog is very special and stands alone from any other return I've had to deal with. Because of this, I'm posting it way early to give any early-risers a chance to read it A.S.A.P. and I'm cutting this intro short and just heading right into the story part.

~~~

~This woman had her receipt and wanted to return a $7 two-pack of vitamins and one of those big, plastic, $15 half-gallon jars of vanilla-flavored, food-supplement, drink-mix powder.... stuff. I always start off a return by asking if there is anything wrong with the item(s) so that I know if it can be put back on the shelf or not. She said that her "husband just wanted to return them," so I started things off with the drink mix because I wanted to check if the foil seal had been broken. It definitely had been. Not only that, but half of the product was missing. I'm no expert on what the stuff was supposed to look like, but what was left in the container looked like cornmeal.* Without saying anything, I looked up and gave her a What-the-Hell-is-Up-With-This look.

Its very convenient that she didn't mention anything before I opened the item, but afterward she was very forthcoming with information. She said that it, "was how [her] husband found it when he got home," and that, "he just handed it to [her] and told [her] to return it," because "it was bought like that." One of the store managers was conveniently a few feet away and had heard what was going on. He nodded that I could go ahead and return it, so I moved on to the other item she had brought.

The vitamins looked fine and unopened, but after seeing the drink mix, I took a closer look. I was rewarded for my efforts when I found a smoothly placed piece of scotch tape over one of the flaps. Both of the vitamin jars were in there, but I took the liberty of pulling both out to check their foil seal, as well. Woo and yay! Neither of the containers had their seal and both were filled with raw, black beans. Just to make sure you know that wasn't a typo, I'll type it again: both of the bottles were fill with uncooked, black beans. Come on lady! She rattled off her 'husband purchase' excuse again, but I wasn't really in the mood at this point to hear it and showed the bottles to the manager who was still nearby. Because what she was trying to get refunded wasn't a ridiculous amount, he went ahead and had me give her the money. He happens to play a larger part than some of the other managers in helping catch thieves in the store and it just wasn't worth arguing weather or not she was being truthful over $22 to him. He really just needed to see her face. Be it acts on my manager's part or just luck on mine, I haven't seen her again since.

So now on to my reasoning why I'm 97% sure that she was a fraud:

For starters-
The fact that she didn't mention anything was wrong with the containers until after I opened them is a prime indicator. When I ask if there is anything wrong with the item(s), any other customer that I've had who's purchased damaged or partial merchandise on accident will immediately state what is going on.
Secondly-
She was supposedly sent back to the store to return these items because they'd been opened prior to purchase, but both of the containers were made to look and feel like they had never been opened, period. Who would go to that much trouble unless they didn't want someone to notice the seals had been broken?
Finally-
I know that it is a very real possibility for some other customer to have swapped out and re-sealed these two items. Maybe they had even been returned to the store like that by an employee who hadn't noticed. It is not, on the other hand, a very real possibility for this woman's "husband" to have picked up both of these items on the same day in one transaction.

* I honestly wouldn't be surprised if it really had been cornmeal in the container. The coloring may have been similar to the vanilla power that should have been in it. Cornmeal is pretty dense too, so it felt about the correct weight. With the label on the jar covering all but the bottom, I probably wouldn't have noticed the lack of contents if I hadn't taken the lid off. Besides, why just take half of the stuff when you can just replace it with a cheap alternative?

12/29/2009

2010-01-15T09:34:00.005-06:00

Before I get into yet another story from the text archive, I'm compelled to share something that happened recently.

~~~

~It was really slow yesterday morning and I was standing in front of the service counter with one of my supervisors while watching and waiting for a customer. It was so perfect that we were standing there, too because it was as if we had front-row tickets to the situation that soon happened in front of us.

A store manager didn't have a walkie-talkie with her, so she was at one of the closed registers up front to use it's phone. While she was standing there, an elderly gentleman walked up wanting to check out. When the manager politely mentioned that she wasn't cashiering, the man snatched up his small handful of items and yelled, "Well then why the hell did you have your light on!?"

As he stormed off to a different register, all the manager could do was try not to laugh too loud until he got out of earshot. Keep in mind she never, at any point, turned the lane's light on. Another employee falls victim to Grumpy Old Man Syndrome, and I got to watch the whole thing with a witness. It was a great way to start the day!

~~~

Now back to the archive:

~This situation was a double whammy. Not only did I view something that I did not want to have seen to begin with, I also got a song stuck in my head because of it. The song was Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival. Just from that, some of you may already to able to guess what I got to see, but here is what happened for those who don't:

I was walking to the back to clock out for lunch when I passed this lady who was squatting down to look at some clothes on one of the lower shelves. Unfortunately for me, she had on a pair of low-rise jeans and half of her rear-end was hanging out. There wasn't even the slightest hint of underwear, either.

I almost took a picture with my phone for the sake of "pics or it didn't happen," but I didn't in case someone else was looking. I really didn't want to have to explain why I:

A. Had my phone out while on the floor,
B. Was taking a picture with said phone of a woman's bottom,
And most importantly -
C. Had my phone out while taking a picture of a woman's bottom while still clocked in.

It felt as if the rewards didn't outweigh the risks, so I kept on my merry little way while leaving the lady blissfully unaware of the fact that she had scarred me with a horrible image and an extremely catchy tune in my head for the rest of the day.

I hate people so much...

12/24/2009

2010-01-14T06:10:00.001-06:00

Today I'll be sharing one of the incidents that I've endured where the customer was being obviously fraudulent. These types of returns annoy me to no end with their irony. While the person is trying to be 'smart' and pull one over on me, all I can do is shake my head because the twit expects that I'm either too lazy or too stupid to catch what they're doing.

~~~

~A cheerful little woman approached my counter with the intention of returning an expensive, digital camera because she "bought the wrong color." She had the original packaging, she had the receipt, it was in the required return period, and I was looking forward to an easy return. The seal on the box had been broken, so I was obligated to look inside, make sure everything was in there, and also compare the serial numbers.

All the correct items were in the box, but I immediately took note of the fact that the physical camera was not the same color as the one printed on the package. This threw up a little warning flag in my head since I'm savvy enough with these items to know that those colors should match. Because of this, I took a moment to examine the merchandise a little closer. What I found was:

#1. The casing was riddled with small nicks and scratches.
#2. The serial number was so worn from the camera being used that I could only make out the last four digits.
#3. These four numbers were nowhere close to the ones printed on the box.

This woman really must not have expected me to open the camera, period. When I pointed these facts out to her, she tried to save face by acting surprised and saying something along the lines of, "Oh my gosh! I need to fix this" a couple times. She didn't even try to argue with me. It was pretty clear that she had put her old, scuffed camera in the box with the hopes of getting the money back for the brand new one she recently purchased.

12/22/2009... As Well

2010-01-13T20:32:00.001-06:00

Today's blog will be a second installment to the archived text that was posted yesterday. I almost posted them together, but some random, forgotten train of thought led me to do otherwise. This second occurrence happened later in the day, after I had finally taken care of the line that had accumulated due to the elderly woman earlier.

~~~

~This patron, who was roughly in her 50's, wanted to return something without the receipt. At the end of these transactions, I have to type in that person's ID number with the state abbreviation first. Her's happened to be from Kentucky. As with most any other out-of-state license, because I want to be sure I typed in the correct letters, I asked what her's were.

She smiled, said, "KY," and let out the most redneck guffaw I've ever heard. She then looked at her friend, said it again, and gave another chuckle to drive home the humor in the abbreviation. All I could think was, "Really?! How childish can you be?"

Without a doubt, returns where the customer does not have the receipt drive me closer to the impending aneurysm that this position will inevitably cause me to suffer from more than any other situation available. The elements of her return, though are the easiest that anyone without the receipt can present to me. I can usually have a customer like that on their way in no time. That being said, I can now explain the reason why this woman's reaction was notable enough write about:

In the few, precious moments following my query for correct information, she was able to fill me with the overwhelming urge to bash my head against the counter... repeatedly. I even caught a glimpse of the twenty-some-odd year old gentleman behind her roll his eyes. You won't believe how amazed I am that I've been in this position for this long without going off on a customer and gotten myself fired. For this blog's sake, I hope that doesn't happen, but tomorrow is another day, after all...

A Break in the Flashbacks

2010-01-12T18:00:00.004-06:00

I can't help but make today another double-post day. A noteworthy enough occurrence happened, but since it was after my lunch break, I didn't have the time to type it out and send it via text message. So before I have the chance to go to sleep tonight and forget any details, here be what happened:

~~~

~Two gentlemen approached my counter with five items to return and they had the receipt. They seemed slightly high, so I'll go ahead and refer to them as Dude1 and Dude2. This particular encounter was so special, I'm going to explain what happened with each piece of merchandise separately.

Item #1. A surge protector.
~This item had none of it's original packaging. In situations like these, we have no way of either party proving that the UPC code on the receipt is for that particular item unless the customer gets an identical, packaged one off the shelf and brings it too me. Since our hardware section is in the far back of the store, Dude1 wasn't interested enough in returning the device to run back and grab a duplicate of it for me. So we moved on to the next object...

Item #2. A four-pack of electrical outlets.
~To be frank, I really didn't care that the box had multiple, overlapping, horizontal layers of scotch tape over the closing flap. Customers use their own tape to re-package stuff all the time. When I did begin to care is after I lifted the box to scan it. The outlets inside rattled more than I expected and the box was lighter than I would have figured, too. So, I took the liberty of opening it up. I can't help but point out the fact that I must have pressed my thumbnail against the most ideal location in the tape. It split in a perfect line across the box's edge allowing me to pull open the flap in an easy, fluid motion which gave me a momentary flash of nerdy joy.*

Peering inside, I found that there were only two items in the container, not four. To add icing to this pitiful attempt at a return, both of the outlets were old and badly damaged. Each had been used well past their capacity and had melted marks around the socket holes. The worst of the two even bore small burns from the electrical heat it had been forced to endure. While I explained how the damage and missing parts prevented me from being able to approve the return, Dude1 simply followed along with an even-toned, calm compilation of, "Yeah," "Uh-huh," and "Ok," replies. This guy had to be 'feeling good'. So we moved on to the next objects...

Items #3 and 4. Two medium-sized, metal space heaters.
~With the surge protector and outlets both having fallen short of being in optimal return condition, I wet ahead and made sure to take an extra moment to inspect the heaters...
-Both were the same model and the boxes looked brand new. Check.
-Both were on the guys' receipt with matching UPC numbers. Check.
So far so good!
Neither were still taped shut, so I grabbed the one closest to me and pulled it out of it's box. Now, given what time of year it is, I've gotten very familiar with some of the heaters we carry. People have been returning and exchanging them constantly for weeks now. Due to that fact, I was already well aware that this particular model has a handle that does not come already attached to the unit. I slid the heater back in it's box and mentioned that there wasn't a handle anywhere in sight. Upon hearing this, Dude1 looked in the second box (which was closer to him,) pulled out its handle, and handed it to me... instead of just handing me the box while it had all of it's contents still packed neatly in it. This guy had to be stoned.

At least they had a 1/4 success rate at this point. I taped the accepted heater shut and scanned it into my computer. The other, he planned on taking home to find the missing handle. So we moved on to the last object...

4. An open DVD.
~When these guys first walked up, the DVD was the first item I noticed because the cellophane was no longer on it. Dude2 stated that it wouldn't play all the way through and wanted to just get the money back for it. Following store policy, I informed him that because the movie had already been opened, but found to be defective, I would be able to exchange it out for another exact copy. I also made sure to emphasize that when these particular exchanges are made, the new copy must be opened before it leaves the building since theirs was open when it entered the building. He seemed slightly displeased that this was the only option I was able to provide him, but made his way into the store to grab another, anyhow.

Dude2 had returned well before I had finished with the other four items, and now it was the movie's turn. Dude1 wasn't as accepting of the store policy and mentioned a couple more times that his companion just wanted his money back. It was as if he wasn't hearing me each time I repeated that all I was able to do was swap it out for another, same, exact copy. After I completed their transaction, put the new (opened) DVD in a bag, and handed Dude1 the money for the one heater that was returned he stated, yet again, that they still just wanted to return the DVD. I surprised myself at how slowly and calmly I was able to reiterate our policy on opened software for the fourth or fifth time. That guy had to be baked.

*Yes! Nerdy JOY!
With all the annoying situations and pissed-off people that I get to deal with on a daily basis, its nice when something actually goes well, no matter how large or infinity small it is. Shut up! Don't judge me!

12/22/2009

2010-01-12T12:20:00.003-06:00

I hope you're enjoying these little excerpts of my life thus far. Before I even considered working at the service desk, I was fully aware that I would have to put up with some of the more annoying situations available in the store. I'm also willing to admit that there have been quite a few instances that have made me want to just be a plain-ol' cashier again. It even seems as if some of the worst scenarios reserve themselves until I, specifically, am working at the desk by myself.

I've stuck at it, though, for some ungodly reason. Whatever driving force that has kept me at that abomination of a position still has me cemented behind that counter. But enough about that. Here's a tale about another grandma with an uncanny ability to piss me off.

~~~

~This particular woman had three pairs of pants to exchange. She had the receipt, and already had with her the pants she wanted to swap them out for. Mundane enough, right? Of course! Those types of exchanges don't bother me in the least. No, it was the $217 worth of merchandise she had me checkout for her afterward that made me want to strangle her. It didn't feel right to tell her no because she had dug most of the items out of her basket and set them on the counter to get the pants out of the bottom she was exchanging for.

On top of that, she was in one of the electric scooters and parked at a retarded angle to the desk. Because she refused to use those two convenient little walking devices called legs and stand up, she had to reach an uncomfortable distance every time she went to place something on the counter.

On top of that, she was on the phone with about 8 different people the entire transaction. She didn't have an ear bud or Bluetooth, either, so she was doing everything with only one hand.

I would also like you to bear in mind that they do not have us set up at the service desk to handle large purchases with ease. All we have is a hand-held scanner and a stack of bags which we fit on a hanger because we don't have anything made specifically for holding them.

By the time I was able to send Little Mrs. Granny on her way, I was greeted by a line of customers who had accumulated during this lovely performance as well as the dirty looks they were shooting at me for putting up with the woman in the first place. Why do the elderly have to try my patience so?

12/21/2009

2010-01-11T13:20:00.006-06:00

I'm going to be kinda sad when I run out of saved messages to write about. But until then, you can bet I'll be continuing to make regular blog updates. In fact, for the last few days, I've been taking the liberty of typing up my posts a day in advance (this one included.)

~~~

~On this fine day, a gentleman approached the counter with a DVD player and it's receipt. There was nothing wrong with the player, he had just decided he didn't want it anymore. Standard procedure for these types of returns requires me to compare the serial number on the box, the device, and the receipt to ensure that all three parts match.

>Both the serial numbers on the packaging and the DVD player did match.
>Both the UPC on the box and the one on the receipt matched.

Cool beans.

>The serial number on the package and DVD player, however, did not match the serial on the receipt.

That was a problem...
Joy for me.

If, for some strange reason, you are not fully aware of the purpose of a serial number, please click here.

Now, because the serial on his proof of purchase didn't match the item itself (in fact it wasn't even close,) I wasn't able to process the return. Our computers literally will not even allow the return without some type of override. Regrettably, the man insisted that the receipt he was showing me was, without a shadow of a doubt, the one he had been given when he purchased the DVD player. With nothing else I was capable of doing, I informed a supervisor of the situation.

At this point, I'm going to take the opportunity to describe the possibilities that one has to take into account when handling this man's case which include but are not limited to:

A. He is telling the truth (AH HA-HA HA! Fat chance.)
B. He found a receipt somewhere, or got one from a friend, that happened to be the same model player he already had in his possession, and now wanted to use it to get his money back.
C. He had the receipt from a legitimate purchase he had made and now wanted to use it to return a DVD player that was stolen or received as a gift.
D. When purchased, the scanner recorded the serial incorrectly.*
E. He simply had the wrong receipt and wasn't willing to admit it.

Being presented with the man's situation, taking into account any or more the aforementioned possibilities, and remembering store policy, she immediately refused the return, as well. Again, to my dismay, the customer was not willing to accept no for an answer. Now it was time to contact a member of management. It was also time for me to get really aggravated.

When the manager arrived at the counter, he took a grand total of about 5 seconds to review the dilemma, and overrode the incorrect serial so that I could give the man the money for it. When the manager did so, he said, and I quote, "I'm not in the mood to argue today." There are very few instances where I can say that I wanted to slap a co-worker more than a customer, but this was definitely one of them.

* I'll be the first to admit that it is definitely possible for a serial number to be recorded incorrectly. All it takes is a flaw in the bar code. In this man's case, not a single number and/or letter scanned from the pristine bar code on the box matched any of the corresponding numbers and/or letters on the receipt. The odds of it being scanned and recorded that incorrectly without giving an 'invalid scan' error are infinitesimal.

12/16/2009

2010-01-10T08:54:00.012-06:00

Before I start this next installment, I just wanted to throw the little F.Y.I. out there that you guys are more than welcome to post comments. In fact, I might even encourage it. O_o
Also, I'm off today, so here's yet another story from the text archive. Its another short one, but still worth posting.

~~~

~On this particular date, it was brought to my attention that there was an elderly woman in the store shoplifting. I know this because one of our asset protection guys had seen her leave behind three packages that turned out to be empty: some rather expensive chocolates and two over-the-counter medications out of the pharmacy. To add insult to injury, she was doing it while scooting around in one of our motorized carts.

What is the world coming to when you can't even trust a little old lady who is too frail to walk around the store on her own two feet?

To my dismay, he wasn't even able to knock her for stealing. He had noticed them in her basket, but she had already ditched the empty cartons by the time he was able to throw another glance at the old hag. Unless we searched the rest of the store, there was no way to prove that she hadn't left the items he had spotted her with somewhere else. Due to these circumstances, he would have needed to have seen the person physically remove the contents from it's receptacle to be able to accuse them of anything. It seemed as if he had already been suspicious of her before that day, too.

Crappy little grandma stealing our merchandise while navigating the store on one of our complimentary scooters... I'm surprised she didn't try to fit that in her purse, as well.

12/13/2009

2010-01-09T06:41:00.011-06:00

I'll be making a short post today considering the last few have been so long.

~~~

~On this slow-moving 13th of December, I had chosen to head home for my hour lunch break. Stepping out into the parking lot, I was greeted by a very heavy, mist-like fog. I would also like to point out the fact that it was roughly 68-70 degrees Fahrenheit outside (hurray for southeast Texas!). While walking towards my truck, I absently took note of a car parking nearby. Lucky for me, I was still within earshot when one of the women got out of the vehicle and exclaimed, "Oh my God! Is it snowing!?"

Yes, genius, it snowing in air 36-38 degrees above the freezing temperature of water.

Unfortunately I wasn't able to hear her friend's response, but I was proud of me for being able to prevent myself from laughing out loud at her reaction.

12/05/2009

2010-01-08T06:02:00.005-06:00

To be honest, I've been getting far too much enjoyment out of retyping up these past occurrences and expanding well above and beyond the miniature confines of cell phone messaging. To add a dash more fun to it all, these episodes that I've had in text message form have preserved the dates of when they actually happened (hence today's title.) So far I've illustrated two different situations per post but, from now on, I'll be limiting the contents of this and future blogs to only the events that happened specifically on each given date. It'll be easier on my brain and fingers, your eyes and attention span, and give me less proofreading to do after each entry (I hope.) Bwar har-har!

~~~

~On this particular date, the service desk had been busy the whole day long, as well as the rest of the store. Unfortunatly for me, I was the only person during my scheduled work period that didn't call in sick and knew how to do returns. Anyone else in the store who could have helped me were either at a supervisory level or higher, were also short handed, and had their own troubles to worry about. At one point, I had such a high volume of customers, that the line I was serving trailed outside the service desk area, around the corner, and out of my veiw. During this time, it was brought to my attention that one of the guys in line was throwing an absolute FIT. For this blog's purposes, I'm going to name him Mr. Jerk.

Mr. Jerk was being snide and carrying on about such a large corporation not scheduling enough people, not having enough assosiates trained to do different tasks, and blah, blah, blah, etc. He was being so obnoxious that one or more of the customers standing in line near him made a complaint to my lady supervisor. They weren't mad at me. They could clearly see that I was working as fast as humanly possible to keep the line moving and I even got a few compliments for it. No, they were mad at Mr. Jerk.

I wish I was been able to hear the conversation she and he had, but once the second-in-command manager of the store showed up, I was able to gather from the customers I was serving that Mr. Jerk had blatantly insulted my lady super. Not a great idea in an establishment that may reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. I was able to view a very brief exchange of words between the jerk and my two higher-ups as the manager lead them away from the service desk area. At the time, I couldn't hear them and had no idea what they were saying. All that mattered to me was that I didn't have to deal with Mr. Jerk and his bad mood in the middle of this horrendously busy day.

The following morning I was able to find out that when our manager had escorted the man away from my counter, Mr. Jerk was so outraged at that point that he chose to leave the store and have the woman he was with handle their return while he waited outside. As far as I know, she left as well because I never served her.

So! On to the moral of all this:
I know some stores suck.
I know that some employees suck.
I am not implying in any way, shape or form that I am the best customer service representative on the face of the planet.
I am also not implying or denying in any way, shape or form that I work in the best possible superstore on the face of the planet.

What I am saying is that the quality of the service you receive when visiting a store is often in the hands of the workers who chose to not show up for work that day. We had had plenty of people scheduled, but due to the great combination of poor weather conditions and flu season, our entire store was lacking employees to fill the positions needed to meet the customers' expectations.
What I am also saying is that we do not make you stand in that line.
Tomorrow is always another day... as long as its within the return period of whatever merchandise you plan on bringing back.

G'day!

Day No. 3

2010-01-07T16:36:00.018-06:00

To add a little more back story to my thought process, these first few rants that I've posted so far have all been notes that I made in my cell phone before I began writing them out and sending them in texts for my friends to enjoy. I may have mentioned them to a few people, but I don't believe these ones ever made it into text form. I really only kept them saved because they were amusing enough to remember for later and possibly make into a comic strip or something along those lines.

Overall this whole blog thing seems to be working out better than a comic, so I'm happy. I'm also proud to announce that, even though I'm still pretty far from getting up to the current date on these crazy work experiences, this first one coming up is the last one that I had saved in note form before I started texting them. I had also been moved to the service desk by this time.

~~~

~I can understand, when people buy expensive electronics, that they want to get the best deal possible. If an item goes on sale shortly after a customer purchases it, depending on the length of time involved, we can sometimes honor that drop in price to keep people happy. This one woman expected way too much.

She called in because she had purchased a PlayStation3, that it had gone down considerably in price since then, and she was wondering if she could get the difference back.

I asked about how much the drop was, expecting something around $15-$20.
Her answer: About $100.
I asked if she still had the receipt.
She did.
I asked the date when it was purchased.
Her answer: Almost a year ago.
At this point I'm thinking, "This woman can't be serious," but... she was.

So I get to explain to her that there's nothing we can do about a drop in any item's price that was purchased such a long ago and that the console was well beyond its return period to boot. Gaming platforms, just like any electronics, will always end up gradually dropping in price over time as new, bigger, and better technology is developed. Luckily she wasn't mad or anything like I might expect some crazies to be, but she still sounded like she was loosing out on her $100 when we ended the call.

~~~

Now on to the first of the text messages!
(This also happens to be the first situation noteworthy enough
to set motion my drive to share and save these beloved tales.)

11/21/2009
~A guy walked up to me at the service desk one day wanting to return a $22 set of padlocks without a receipt. Without that little thermal paper proof of purchase, all I need is a valid, state-issued ID to process. He was aware of this fact and already had his wallet in his hand. Once I get to the end of the transaction where the ID is required, he promptly took his driver's license out and handed it to me. Just a glance at it and I knew I was in for some fun.

The picture on the license had a beard scribbled over the face from the nose down, as well as horns on top of the head, all drawn in thick, black sharpie. It also wouldn't have taken a forensic scientist to notice that even the visible parts of the picture didn't look like the gentleman standing in front of me. Before I can mention that the drawings blocking out the face make the ID invalid, I look down at the bottom of it and get to say the best thing I've ever gotten to say to a customer so far:
"Sir, besides the sharpie, I see here that it states your sex as... female?"

Its obvious by his reaction that I caught him trying to pull one over on me, and most likely stole the locks in an attempt to bring them back them for a profit. His own ID was probably maxed on no-receipt returns, but still tried to cover his rear by saying that he, "must have picked up his girlfriend's on accident." That is, of course, all just speculation on my part, but I'd be willing to put money on my assumption that I'm right.

Day No. 2.... Some More

2010-01-06T19:12:00.018-06:00

Ok, I tried telling myself that I wasn't going to make two blogs in one day so that I could save some of these recollections for later, but I'm bored and have decided to throw that idea out the window. That being said, I'll go ahead and jump right in to the fun part.

~~~

~A few months back, our store became the temporary home to a couple stray grackles who ended up making their way inside somehow. No one really knows exactly how they got there, but I'm pretty sure they made they're way in through one of our sets of automatic sliding doors which, at the time, weren't working properly and had to remain statically open. They fluttered about store's rafters for quite some time, but it wasn't the birds that bothered me, it was the people.

Every single time someone spotted these winged spectators of our operations, they would react as if they'd had never seen a bird before in their life. Truly, these two avian invaders must have endured such harsh trials and tribulations to have made it all the way inside one's local superstore that they were absolutely the most wonderful creatures one would ever have the privilege of beholding. They made it seem like, at any minute, some highly respected official would pop out of the clothing racks, shut down the store, fence off the surrounding area, and mark the site as a wildlife preserve for those remarkable creatures.

Yes, I know its odd, and relatively uncommon, to see a living bird (let alone two of them) hopping about in the ceiling framework of their local retail store. Is it really that awe-inspiring, though for two little, feathered scavengers to find their way inside a building in the hopes of finding a quick meal? I didn't really think so.

~~~

~And lastly for the day, a tale of some random woman motorist who felt the need to waste 3 minutes of my life.
Allow me to paint a picture for you:
I had already clocked out for the evening, and it was probably about 8 o'clock at night. It was still during the summer, so I didn't have the luxury of a jacket to at least attempt to blend in with the other customers. I was standing out in front of the store waiting patiently in my work uniform for my honey to come pick me up when this lady (who I assume was in the process of leaving the premises) drives up in front of the doors to specifically get my attention. The following is roughly the conversation that took place:

Lady: Hey, you need to do something about this! These guys just pushed a whole bunch of carts into the middle of the isles. That's dangerous!

Me: What? Some random guys just pushed carts.... into the isle?

Lady: Yes! Someone could run into them. You should really tell someone about this.

Me: Um, what did they look like? Unless the security patrol saw them, the store can't really prevent random people from leaving carts like that.

Lady: No, no, it was your cart guys. They're the ones who just left a row of carts like that for people to drive into. Its a hazard!

Me: Ma'am, that's what they do, and I'm not even clocked it. There's nothing I can really do about it.

Lady: Can't you just go inside and tell someone?

At this point, just to get away from the lady, I turn around, walk inside, and mention the conversation I'd just had to a nearby associate who gets a nice chuckle out of the situation.

What this motorist failed to realize is that it is a very regular procedure for the cart crew to line up rows of carts in the parking lot isles, while they move around to collect more, before pushing them all up to the building at once. When they leave these already-gathered carts, though, its always off to the side so that motorists can still move around them.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm am not the best at thinking up cute, snappy comebacks on the spot. After I had had a moment to turn what happened over in my noggin for a bit, I came up with these few points that I wish I had thought of at the time...
A. If the hazard was so tremendous, why didn't she just park her little SUV, walk inside, and tell someone personally?
B. Why didn't she mention this problem to the cart crew, and not me?
And most importantly:
C. To be frank, any person driving fast enough in a parking lot (especially at night) to deal any amount of damage to their vehicle via an unsuspecting, stationary row of metal shopping baskets should really re-evaluate who the hazard is in this scenario.

Day No. 2

2010-01-06T10:17:00.019-06:00

Okie dokie. Well, I tried fiddling with the display layout for this blog a bit and have ultimately ended up back exactly where I started. Now, don't get me wrong, I knew before I began that I wouldn't be a website artist overnight, but I was hoping to at least add some personal tweak to it by now. Oh well, I'll play with that later.

On to the juicy bits!

~~~

~For starters today, I can't help but mention one very annoying thing that is absolutely destine to happen every single time a parent(s) brings their child/children to my register: The very moment the child/children see that the bag carousel turns, some unseen, all-powerful force beckons them to touch and turn it. If, for any reason, you're not sure what I am referring to, the bag carousel is a large-ish, circular structure set up to hold either 3 or 6 sets of bags so that once one side's bags are full it can be turned to the next set of empty bags while the customer picks up the full ones.

Now, imagine how much 'fun' it would be trying to scan and place items in their respective bags while Ms. Jan Whats-Her-Face's little rambunctious scamp is constantly turning this thing in one or the other direction.

I've had one lady who told her boy to stop a couple of times from touching the carousel, but both times he neither ceased nor desisted in his actions. While I was holding onto one of the arms to keep it from turning, he was trying with all his might on his end to break my grip and turn it on his own. This has been the only time I've had to stop and politely ask the parent to force their child away from this 'Magical Turny Object of Wonderment' so I could get back to work.
Needless to say, I've gotten pretty good at holding the carousel still with one hand and scanning/bagging with the other.

~~~

Seeing as how that first bit is a little longer than I expected, I'll just tack on this shorter gripe instead of adding another full-blown rant:

~Just an F.Y.I. out there to all you perky little shoppers -
It is not, I repeat, it is NOT cute to jokingly mention something must be 'free' if it doesn't scan. Yes its just an innocent little side comment meant for a giggle, but if you have never been a cashier before, you have absolutely no idea how many times we hear that a week. At one point I honestly thought about keeping a tally, and now that I've started this blog, I wish I had.

So, next time you're checking out in your local superstore please dig deep down and refrain from using that adorable little phase so that whoever is checking out your items doesn't have to lace your "Thank you, have a nice day!" with an undertone of "I hate you with every ounce of my being."

The Beginning.

2010-01-05T23:25:00.015-06:00

Greetings and Salutations!
I am a 23 year old, very antisocial woman currently employed at my local superstore. I began as a cashier, but am now working at the Customer Service desk. Now, you may be asking yourself, "Why would someone who's antisocial be working as a cashier and/or customer service representative?" That is a very fine question of which I have two answers for:
Reason #1. Both are on the higher-paid end of the entry-level positions that aren't overnight.
Reason #2. I sometimes have too much patience for my own good.

Now, on to the whole reason for this blog!
(Queue dramatic, royal-sounding trumpet fanfare.)

After a long day of work, dealing with all the lovely patrons who choose to grace me with their presence, I tend to build up quite a bit of tension and/or hatred towards some of the situations I end up having to endure. So, for the past few weeks, I've gotten in the habit of typing up some of these stories and texting them to friends. These wonderful little tales have gotten such good feedback that I've been saving them in my phone and have decided to dedicate this whole blog to them. I've never fiddled with a blog before, so you'll have to bear with me if things start off a bit slow. I'm going to start with the oldest rants and, over time, work my way up to the current date.

So, without further ado: My first stories, gripes, grumbles and tid-bits from working as a cashier:

~~~

~ One of the first amusing and ironic situations that lead me to keeping track of all this nonsense is when I was cashing out this old grandma and her two grandchildren. The entire time I was ringing up this woman's items, her phone was ringing constantly with different, obnoxious ringtones. She seemed very savvy with the phone (which doesn't seem very common for the elderly) and I don't think I heard the same ringtone twice. As she was paying for the items, the phone rang once more, at which point the little grandson, who couldn't have been more than four, looked up at her and said, "That's why I don't like your phone, Grandma. Its noisy and you're on it all the time." All I could think was, "Srsly? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

~ Also, I must have missed this class somewhere, but how in the world do some women fit so much stuff in those grocery baskets? I'm pretty freaking good at packing stuff, but I've had some who've walked up with one basket so packed and stacked full that, after I've bagged it all, I would have to distribute it back between two carts and end up filling both to the brim.
It always gives me this cartoon image in my head of some lady with a basket piled 8ft high where she calmly looks at the dumbfounded cashier and says, "Oh don't worry, hun, it'll all fit back in there. I don't wanna have to push two baskets out."

~~~

And last, but not least for the evening-
~ What in the world is with old people jabbing the ever-loving crap out of the card readers' screens with the stylus? Yes, I know the screen isn't always calibrated perfectly, so when you write your name, it won't look beautiful. I can understand that. But if you don't have to press that hard to write your name, why do you have to jab the "Yes" or "OK" button as if you're trying to ram a stake through Dracula's heart to confirm your signature or amount of cash back?
Every time someone mentions that our debit/credit card readers suck, it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to say, "Because elderly people like to use them as dart boards."