Really Trying To Shake Your Tree

, , , , , , | Right | December 30, 2018

(I work as a front end supervisor at a popular discounted retail store. Recently I’ve been working in the stockroom helping them with a large amount of merchandise coming off the truck, so I have not been on the register for roughly two months. My regular customers have noticed and aren’t happy. Our newer customers think I am a new cashier and have tried to bring in fake receipts, wrong item returns, etc. This morning I am the opening cashier; typically my managers will focus on other tasks since I am a FES and they do not have to worry about me. A lady walks up to the door and stares at the holiday hours. I notice she is holding a four-foot Christmas tree box. We do not, and have never sold Christmas trees. Ever. She comes to my register and the following occurs.)

Me: *sporting my lovely reindeer antlers to fit the season* “Hi. How are you doing today?”

Customer: “Oh! I love your antlers! They look perfect on you, and your eyeliner is beautiful, so perfect!”

(We call this the “kissing butt” routine to make them seem oh-so-innocent.)

Me: “Thanks! What can I help you with?”

(She slams down Christmas tree box. It’s horribly beaten up and poorly taped back together.)

Customer: “I bought this tree a few weeks ago and it just does not look good in the part of my house I wanted. Here’s the receipt”

(She hands over the receipt. I examine it, and then the price tag which has been obviously pulled off another item from our store and placed on this box.)

Me: “Well, unfortunately, the item does not match the description on the receipt, so I am unable to refund the amount.”

Customer: *obviously trying to contain her anger at her scam failing* “Oh, no, honey! I knew this would happen with you being so new; I have never seen you here before! This always happens to me! Just go get someone else to look at it.”

Me: *unintentional smirk* “This is actually my sixth Christmas working in this very store. I am the front end supervisor; I’ve just been helping another department. As I said, this Christmas tree does not belong to us and actually belongs to a larger brand name grocery and superstore that keeps their trees in the garden center. I can pull this exact tree up on their website if you want me to!”

(I see the anger in her eyes. Her lips twitch. I am ready. I hit the button on my headset, directly linking the conversation that is about to happen to my Manager on Duty.)

Customer: *after a brief moment of silence* “Now, young lady, listen here. I commend you for being a sixth-year retail employee, but this tree does belong to your store. If you are too dumb to realize this, then I need the number to your corporate office and your last name. Consider this your last Christmas here.”

Me: *talking on headset* “You heard that?”

(Not even three seconds pass before my store manager walks up with an angry face, snatches the receipt out of my hand, hands it back to the lady, and pushes the tree box towards her, not hitting her, but sliding it back to her side of the counter.)

Store Manager: “Take the tree and shove it up your a**! Don’t threaten my employees!”

(Never have I ever seen a customer run toward the door so fast.)

Me: “Merry Christmas!”

Mommy Manager

, , , , | Right | December 22, 2018

(Our restaurant is in the middle of a fairly busy shopping center, and the patio has folding shutter-doors so that in nice weather we can have an open-air patio. I’m a server, working with a manager who’s known to be less-than-mature in her approach to many issues. The restaurant is closing down; some people have begun sweeping and cleaning, and we’ve asked all remaining customers if they’d like anything else, and dropped checks on the tables to imply that they’re definitely not getting anything else. Most people have checked out, but there’s one table, a 30-something couple on a date who have been very friendly and polite the whole time, seated out by the railing next to the common area. I’m going to check for payment on their bill, and I notice that she is sitting across his lap and his hand is blatantly up her skirt, while they giggle profusely. I freeze, turn around, and immediately go to find my manager.)

Me: “So that couple on the edge of the patio there is definitely ‘fooling around,’ and for anyone to see. They haven’t paid their check. I’m not sure what to do.”

Manager: “What? Seriously?”

(She goes out and does a quick visual check across the entire patio, but comes back with a shocked look on her face, confirming she saw the same thing I did.)

Manager: “So, you dropped the check but they haven’t closed out yet?”

Me: “Yeah. I was too weirded out to approach them, but they definitely got their check a bit ago.”

Manager: “Okay, I’ll handle this.”

(She goes back outside, pretends to be checking things, while getting much closer to them this time. Then, as if noticing for the first time, puts her hands on her hips and strikes a semi-dramatic pose before literally shouting:)

Manager: “EWW!”

(That definitely got their attention, as they put some cash in and left immediately, still giggling. I’m glad it worked and didn’t lose me a tip, but I will never forget watching her shout at them like a teenager who walked in on their parents!)

A Week Excuse For Taking A Weak

, , , , , | Working | December 18, 2018

(Many years ago I worked for a national department store chain. I had been working there long enough to accrue three weeks of paid vacation time. At the time, the company had a strange policy of requiring the employees to take a full week of vacation at a time. We were not allowed to break it into smaller segments. During this time, my mother was hospitalized with cancer and spent several days in ICU. I appealed to the HR manager, and he allowed me to take three days of paid vacation to help my mom when she was released from the hospital. A few months later, I decided I needed a little more time off, so I requested another two days. The HR manager was on vacation at the time, so I got called into the assistant HR manager’s office.)

Assistant HR: “I see you have requested two days of vacation. You know you have to take a whole week, right?”

Me: “Yes, but [HR Manager] allowed me to take three days last time. I just want to take the two days left on that week.”

Assistant HR: “But you have to take a week.”

Me: “I don’t need a whole week. I just want the two days.”

Assistant HR: “Company policy requires that you take a week.”

Me: “I have two weeks and two days left. If I take a week now, and a week later, I will still have two days of vacation left that you will have to pay me for, right?”

Assistant HR: “That is correct.”

Me: “So, why can’t I just take those two days now instead of later?”

Assistant HR: “Company policy states that you must take a week.”

(I gave up trying to argue with her and took the week off. While I was off, I discovered that [National Home Improvement Retailer] was hiring for entry-level accounting positions. During that week off, I interviewed, was drug tested, and hired by the home improvement company. When I returned to the department store after my required week of vacation, I submitted my resignation.)

In Great Loss There Can Be Great Kindness

, , , , , | Hopeless | December 5, 2018

(Three weeks after the sudden loss of my daughter, I decide it’s time to take off the plastic hospital bracelet that matched hers, and have it replaced with an engraved bracelet. I find a store that carries jewelry, keepsakes, photo albums, dishware, awards, meaningful gifts, etc., that can all be engraved or personalized. I find a very nice silver bracelet and take it up to the counter to ask about having it engraved. There are two women, and the older one gestures to the younger one to help me while she’s with another customer. The younger woman comes over to me.)

Woman: *brightly* “Hi. How are you? What can I do for you today?”

Me: “Hi. I was hoping to get this bracelet engraved, and I’m wondering if there’s a character limit here.”

(The young woman turns to her coworker, and the coworker hands her a catalogue inventory book. The woman turns back to me.)

Woman: *flipping through book* “Thank you so much for your patience. Today is my first day. Okay, what did you want to have put on it?”

Me: “[Daughter’s Full Name], and I was wondering if I’d be able to get a couple of dates on the charm?”

(In addition to the main part of the bracelet, there is a small, heart-shaped charm near the clasp.)

Woman: “Of course!” *pulling out an order form and starts writing* “Okay, so, it was [Daughter’s Full Name]. And then on the charm…”

Me: *gives daughter’s birthdate*

Woman: *writing, pause* “You said a couple. Was there another date?”

Me: *deep breath* “Yes. To [date a few months later].”

(The young woman stops. She looks at me. I can feel my eyes starting to water.)

Woman: *quietly* “Was this your baby?”

(I nod, struggling to hold back tears. She steps forward and wraps her arms around me, giving me a warm hug.)

Woman: *stepping back* “My sister lost her baby. It’s been fourteen years; it’s still hard. But you will get through this.”

(I pulled myself together, and we finished placing the order and agreed to pick up in about an hour. When I returned, the young woman recognized me as I walked in and had everything ready by the time I got to the counter. Everything looked absolutely beautiful. It may have been her first day, but I think she will do very well in this particular shop. Her warmth and kindness gives me hope.)

About As Useful As Some Passed Gas

, , , , , | Working | November 8, 2018

(We have one coworker at the theater who is a deadweight. He always comes in late and does very little work. I’m in the lobby when I notice one of the auditoriums is letting out.)

Me: *to the manager* “Hey, I’m going to go clean the auditorium.”

Manager: “Okay, then. Hey, [Coworker]! You go in and help him.

Me: *under my breath* “G**d*** it!”

(We both go into the auditorium, and instead of picking up trash or sweeping, my coworker just follows me around making farting noises.)

Coworker: *makes a farting sound* “Ew, [My Name]! You’re nasty.”

Me: “Really? You’re doing this? How old are you? Twenty or ten?”

Coworker: “What are you talking about? I’m not doing anything.” *makes another farting sound* “Dude! What did you eat?”

Me: *sigh*

(This goes on the entire time. I finally get done with the auditorium, and then I go up to the manager.)

Me: “The next time you want to send [Coworker] to help me clean auditoriums, please do me a favor and don’t.”

(He eventually left to work at a grocery store around the corner. I heard he only lasted a couple of months.)

Page 4/13First...23456...Last