Why can't I work retail?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Because I’m a bitch, that’s why.

Lady, you came in scowling, asking for help finding things. I smiled at you. I cheerfully helped you put together a gift basket. I’m sorry that I misunderstood one of your questions and told you something you already knew, but the store was noisy and you spoke quietly. Was it necessary to glare at me and accuse me of implying that you’re stupid? You are indeed stupid, but I was careful not to tell you that, because you’re a valued customer despite your abysmal IQ. I brought you to the cash, and deftly wrapped your gift, at no extra charge. Ribbons and bows and a lovely gift bag. No, maybe it’s not as nice as last year’s style, but did you have to sniff at it and tell me it looks cheap? Not only is it all we have to offer you, it’s free. You can go buy expensive wrappings at Hallmark if you prefer. Or shop at our competitors, who charge you extra for gift wrapping. Did I tell you this? No. I even took the time to wish you a happy holiday as you left the store. Which was apparently a mistake.

You whipped back around and gave me that evil stare, asking me if I celebrate Christmas. Innocently, I answered you with a smile that yes, I do. When you snapped back that I should wish you a Merry Christmas instead of a happy holiday, well, lady, that was too much. The look on your face when I replied was absolutely priceless.

My response: (Gasp and hand-to-cheek-gesture of disbelief and shock) “Oh my God, Christmas isn’t a holiday anymore??”

And yet, I’m not fired. Odd.

2

I understand completely.

I worked at K Mart for a total of five hours. I walked out after some woman was bitching unnecessarily hard about how slow I was checking when it was obvious I was being trained. It was like I was watching the scene from two lanes over. Words came from my mouth that I can’t even provide a definition for now, words that involve pigs and sex, religious figures and meat by-products.

I’m not even sure why exactly I got so angry. It’s not like I wasn’t used to BS, after working six years at Taco Bell.

I’m sure I’d have been fired if I’d ever even bothered to come back for my check.

3

You realize that you have just lived every retail drones dream right? Being one, I should know.

I work at Walmart, luckily, in the shipping and recieving area, but I still spend time on the floor. When I’m on the floor, I’m usually pulling a skid full of merchindise that weighs between 200 to 2400 pounds. They’re big, they’re heavy, and they’re really hard to miss coming at you, but you would be suprised the sheer number of people who never even see me. This results in having to stop, wait, and start up again multiple times per skid, as I polietly ask people to get out of my way. Those who see me and move of their own accord always get a nice thank you.

If I was on the floor full time, I would probably have an ulcer. I meet lots of nice people, but there is always that one person who has to shoot me a dirty look because they had to move their shopping cart two feet so that I could get by.

4

I am always amazed how you people put up with it.

If I worked at Walmart or Kmart or Target or any of those stores, it would be a matter of hours until my face was on the six o’clock news as they dragged me handcuffed and screaming into a cop car as ambulances would be taking stretchers with customers out from the store.

I always try to be friendly to every cashier and salesperson…and (not so) amazingly, 99% of them are friendly back to me. I even understand that 1% who growl at me as I witnessed what just went through the line.

The clueless idiots in line would drive me absolutely insane.

My hat’s off to you all…oh, and may your festival be bright and include beheadings in the parking lot!

5

I worked at the courtesy desk at Wal Mart for far longer than I thought humanly possible (4 years, I think). The final straw was an incident that I thought would surely end up with me being fired.

A couple were buying things for their business, and because they needed to ring them out as tax exempt, they had to do it there. So I ring up the total, and the wife hands me a check. The system prompts me for her driver’s license, which she gives me, and the check is denied.

The way the system worked then (not sure if it’s still the case) was if someone wrote a check that subsequently bounced, whatever driver’s license number was used was then flagged in the system, and they were automatically declined. The workaround to this was that theoretically someone else could give their driver’s license if their name was also on the check, and it would likely go through. A stupid system, but our policy was if the check was declined, a different form of payment (or a check from another account) had to be taken, or the sale canceled - this was a point management was adamant on. Something to do with not getting reimbursed by the check clearance company if a declined check was subsequently accepted.

So, the check was declined. I explained this apologetically to the woman who smiled sheepishly and said okay. The husband, however, was not about to accept this. Apparently he knew of the workaround because he insisted that I re-run the transaction using his driver’s license. I explained to him that I couldn’t do it. He continued to insist. I called for management (who never came, bastards) and calmly tried to work out some other solution. Finally he started getting nasty and insulting, and accused me of being unable to think for myself without management’s consent. I told him I very well was capable, I just had no desire to lose my job for breaking store policy to oblige a customer’s whim. He harped on and on, I continued to call for management, who continued to fail to appear, and finally, I snapped.

I can’t even remember exactly what I said, but I had almost completely lost my temper at that point, and it certainly showed. I angrily asked him for his license and told him he needed to write out a new check and sign it. He couldn’t do that, he said, because he didn’t have signing authority on the account. Things started going a little red and hazy at that moment, but I didn’t care. As I reprocessed the payment with his wife’s signature and his driver’s license, his wife said something to the effect of hoping that I wouldn’t 't get in any trouble over it. I told her that it was possible I’d get canned, but that I really didn’t even care anymore. I handed him the receipt and he was dead quiet. As the wife gathered up the bags, the husband said - apparently in all seriousness - “If you do get fired, here’s my card, you can come work for me. I’m sorry for my behavior.”

And they left, leaving me dumbfounded. Not only were they not going to call management and demand my head on a platter, the guy had just offered me a job! I started looking for work the next day, and quit two days later. That incident simply made it obvious that I had reached my breaking point.

And just as a side note, I don’t think that my behavior was at all excusable, which is why I quit. I realized that the stress of the job had finally become too much, and that I was unable to do it properly anymore. Never did call the guy and ask him for a job :wink:

6

I was the only person to help people out in the garden supply department and I couldn’t pause for a minute. One person was ringing up people at the outside exit. I get called over to the busy register, and the checker tells me that the person at the register thought a plant basicaly looked like shit, and was going to die. I kept the sick plants culled, and didn’t sell them. They reflect badly on the condition of the rest. I picked it up, looked at it, said it was a bad plant, and in the same seconds the plant went woosh thud into the trash can with force. I was already five feet away, and I hear the woman start going, but I wanted that. I glanced back ay the lady. Later in the break room I talked to the cashier and she said the lady wanted a discount. In other words give it to me for nothing and sit on the good plants. I was in the split second descision mode and the look of shock in the ladies face was priceless.

I had some lady try to get me to load some almost dead shrubs into her car once, while I was doing the store policy of destroy until they can’t show up for a refund. She wouldn’t leave me alone, after explaining the store policy.
I finialy told her I wasn’t going to lose my job, by giving her a single bush being thrown away, and to leave me alone now, before I have to get security.

I did like working with the public, but every year had it’s bad moment where the planets alligned just so.

7

If you worked for me, I’d have given you a raise.

8

I do work on the floor at Walmart, part-time. Though I’m in clothing. Most of the customers are okay to me, oddly enough. The ones on the phone get (justifiably) mad when whatever department they are trying to call doesn’t answer their phone, though. Dammit, I know you’re busy over there people, but I’m getting chewed out because of it! Thankfully I only fill in on the phone while the operator is at lunch, on breaks, etc. Otherwise I sort of fill in wherever on the floor, usually lingerie. It’s actually not too bad.

But, note to creepy old men: do not hit on me. Thank you. I have a boyfriend. I do not need you.

9

Does that mean if you didn’t have a boyfriend you’d be open to a Creepy Old Man? :stuck_out_tongue:

I’ve worked in retail. I don’t anymore. I much prefer not working in retail. I’ve had stuff thrown at me, I’ve had people snarl at me when I try to enforce store policy, I’ve had people ignore me. I’ve come to the conclusion people, in general, are stupid.

10

Gaah! No!

11

I worked at a Hallmark store for a little over a year, and it was mostly pleasant. It was definitely a huge step up from Wal-Mart and fast food, both of which I had worked before.

I never lost it, but there was one time I may as well have. A young woman came in with a gift she had received and requested a refund. Now, the woman who owned this particular Hallmark also owned another one across town and her policy was that if no receipt were present a manager had to do the exchange. My manager had already gone home for the night, but the manager of the other store was still there so I told her I very sorry, that I personally was not allowed to give her a refund but that she could either come back to my store the next day or take the item to the other store and get her refund from the manager there. I could tell she wanted to tell me where I could stick both options, but she just snatched up the bag and left. I even told her that I was sorry I couldn’t help her and to have a nice night as she left.

Well, turns out when she got to the other store she told both the manager and my friend (who floated between stores and who called me immediately to let me know what the woman had said) that I was the rudest person she had ever met, that I told her I didn’t have time to give a refund and that she would have to take it to the other store if she wanted her money back, etc., etc., lie, lie. And the owner believed her! My manager stuck up for me, since I was always pleasant and she’d seen me deal well in similar situations, so nothing bad came of it (but only because I never saw that particular bitch again).

12

I work at Wal-Mart, also. I don’t work on the sales floor, though, I work in the cash office. On the occasions that I have to go tinker with the self-checkouts, (gifts from satan, they are!) I admire the tact of the cashiers. I couldn’t do it. They don’t listen to the instructions, they yell at the computer voice, kick the machine, etc.

I would get so fired if I had to be out there full-time. I especially like the ones who say, “I hate these machines. Every time I use them something goes wrong!” Then quit using them ya moron! If you push the skip bagging button, don’t put it in the freakin’ bag!

Okay, deep breath! I could give more examples, (19 yrs. at Wally World) but this is long enough.

Sneezy

13

All this talk of Wal-Mart reminded of one of my absolute worst customers ever. I used to work in the deli there and one day a woman came up to me and ordered a pound of potato salad. I spooned it into the container, weighed it, and it was right on the money. I put on the lid, printed the label, stuck it on, and tried to hand it to her.

She said, LOUDLY, “You are trying to cheat me! I’m not stupid, look at all the room you left in there!” I explained to her that there is extra room in there on purpose, and then put the container back on the scale to show her that it was indeed a pound of potato salad. Looking exactly like a toddler who didn’t want her broccoli, she kept shaking her head with her eyes closed, saying, “Nope, nope, you are trying to cheat me and I am not dumb.” (If you say so, lady.)

There was a nice long line forming behind her, so I refilled the container to the top, and then tried to put the lid back on, but the one spoonful I added was too much. I took the top back off and spooned some of it back out. She started laughing at me (cackling, actually), and said she could tell I had put too much in there. I handed her the container, and said, “You need to take this and walk away from me. Right. Now.”

I thought I showed amazing restraint, considering that my eyes were bugging out and my jaw was clenched so tight I could barely speak. I was picturing ripping the bitch’s head off and putting it in the meat case next to the German bologna, and I think it was obvious because she actually started backing away from me and took her salad and left without another word. Yes, I quit that job soon after.

14

I like your response, but another possibility would have been, “I’m sorry, but I assumed you don’t celebrate Christmas, seeing as how utterly devoid of the Christmas spirit you are.”

15

All I have to say is if you want to be able to freak out at customers work at a liquor store.

Now I don’t mean all customers but the liquor store that I was working in was in Alberta (I know that every place has it’s own rules about selling liquor) and the manager, rightly so, was very concerned about following the rules and we were told to strictly enforce all ID’ing and to never sell to anyone who even looks like they might be drunk. Now have you ever tried to tell a drunk (who also happens to be a regular) that they can buy their beer. It hits pretty close to home for some. And yes I was openly called a bitch many times.

I actually liked it. I wasn’t abusing the system at all, but if I saw Joe talking to the group of kids that have been hanging out outside the window and they slip him some money. No I am not going to sell him a thing. I don’t care if this is actually yours I don’t want $1000 fine. And if you tell me that you ID is in the car, thats fine I’ll wait. Hmm funny thing is nobody ever comes back, maybe they forgot it at home, that’s it.

And when you come in slurring, no amount of name calling is going to make me sell you this. Freak out as much as you like buddy. It’s not going to happen.

It got to the point that if I was stocking and a questionable customer came in the other employees would just go and get me to ring them in.

Yes I know I’m a bitch and no you can’t buy that beer.

I was offered assistant manager after working there a month :smiley:

16

Nitpick: that wasn’t my dream.

I worked in a bakery in the mall, and while about two-thirds of my job entailed baking (both reheating frozen crap, and making my own tasty treats), one-third was working the bakery counter.

In the deep freezer, we had many ancient boxes of unwhipped Cool-Whip: this liquid slurry that we called Death Whip. We also had frozen pie crusts from the Pleistocene era. And we had rolling racks.

Around Christmastime, it was my dream to make up all the Death Whip, fill the pie crusts with it, and load up a rolling rack to the brim with these armaments. Then I’d adorn myself with warpaint and climb up to the top of the rolling rack, and another employee would push the rack at top speed through the mall, while I, crouching, screamed battle cries and pegged the shoppers with the Death Pies.

Ah, dreams.
Daniel

17

Left Hand of Dorkness, will you marry me?

Incidentally, I have the Bitchy Snot-Nosed Customer Shift of Death from four to midnight today. Oh, sweet heavenly joy.

18

One year when I was working at Kmart, I happened to be passing past the service desk (I think I was on my way to or from the lady’s room, I don’t remember), and was able to witness a meltdown of epic proportions.

It seems this woman brought back a video game system that after six months had stopped working. I don’t remember which one it was-PlayStation, Nintendo, Sega, whatever, just that it was a really expensive one. And, of course, she has no receipt. She wants her money back-in cash. The woman at the service desk tells her no way.

Well, this woman just went ballistic. She started accusing the cashier of being racist, that they were accusing her of stealing, and whatnot, and that she wasn’t leaving until she got her refund.

One of the managers is there, at this point, trying to calmly explain to this psycho hosebeast why they just could not take back a broken video game system without any kind of receipt. And Queen of the Harpies is foaming at the mouth, screaming obscenities and going on and on becoming less coherant with every expletive.

It was absolutely spectacular. Almost surreal. Everyone around has just about stopped what they were doing to stare at this display of insanity.

I had to keep my head down to keep from bursting into giggles. All the while thinking, “Thank God I’m not the one who has to deal with her.”

Another favorite story is from when I was in high school, working at a local grocery store. We had a huge thunderstorm, the power went out, and the roof completely collapsed in the meat packing room. Water pouring in through the ceiling. And we were trying to get the few customers we had out of there before the back-up generator went down, so we only have one register working, and we had to put in everything by hand, (scanner was down) the scales aren’t working, etc.

And the last customer was this snotty, pain in the ass woman who was just standing there bossing us around, making us go and look up prices (with a freaking flashlight!) getting angry when we had to go back to the produce section to weigh her veggies, bitching about the bagging, the fact that we wouldn’t take an expired coupon, etc. All the while, we’re watching the clock, knowing that in less than ten minutes, the register will shut down.

Now, I will say, we were not rude, or nasty, we were completely polite, didn’t try to show impatience, even as we’re working in the dark, squinting and punching in the bar codes.
Thank heavens we were able to get her finished before everything went off line.

Forget trying to call the manager-we didn’t DARE approach him. You could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears after I had gone around the store (to check for any customers who might still be back there) and found that it was raining in the meat department. (He didn’t yell at me, or anything, he was just very, very quiet and so obviously beyond stressed.)

And let’s not forget the people who decide they don’t want something perishable, like meat or milk, and just throw it on the shelf with the canned goods, only to be found by one of us, hours later. Or the time someone just dropped a leaking cartoon of milk beside the magazines and didn’t tell anyone.

19

I’ve found perishables left in the damndest places, like lingerie. Or the baby stuff. WTF? You don’t want it? Fine. Could you maybe at least put it in the GROCERY AREA???

20

Guinastasia that’s the typical idiot customer during an emergency isn’t it. Severe weather where building debri is whipping at 70 MPH and they customers won’t get away from the large glass windows. I met clerks fromstores where the customers wouldn’t leave the store for a fire. They wanted to shop. They totaly refused to recognise reality. They apparently thought it’s up to the employee’s to keep the elemental forces of nature at bay, so they don’t get hurt.