A Tentative Update

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.