Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 8

, , , | Right | May 4, 2021

I am sixteen working my first job. A lady in her forties comes through my checkout with a young boy.

Customer: “Can I get everything in bags?”

She has about ten items on the belt, enough that it will fit in one bag. Not hearing she wanted them separate, I pack everything into one bag. It isn’t until she is paying that she notices and begins her outburst.

Customer: “Is everything in the one bag?!”

Me: “Yes, although if you would like me to pack it into two bags, I can easily do so.”

Customer: *Grunts angrily* “I asked for two bags!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Let me fix that.”

Customer: “No. Don’t worry about it.”

She pays while lecturing me.

Customer: “I’m old. You should think more of your older customers.”

She continues accusing me of wanting her to suffer and saying that I am basically horrible at my job. 

Meanwhile, the kid with her listens to her rant and just looks at me; he looks horrified. I get that some people might have an injury or medical condition and not be able to carry much weight, but she is being truly horrible.

Somehow, I talk back. I am normally very anxious and shy.

Me: “I am sorry, madam, but I was running on autopilot.”

An old couple walks up to my checkout. They pick up a thirty-pack of soft drinks, which is easily double the weight of the lady’s bag, and put it onto the belt.

The lady goes quiet after seeing that and leaves, dragging the kid behind her.

Old Man: “Are you okay, love?”

It takes me a second after the lady leaves to realize I am shaking but I continue serving them.

Me: “Yes, I’m fine. Just so you are aware, your soft drinks can stay in the trolley.”

Old Woman: “We know; we just wanted to make that lady quiet. I feel bad for that poor child.”

My supervisor later told me that the lady complained and said I ignored her and was rude, etc., but the other couple had also returned at some point when I was on break and revealed what had happened.

Related:
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 7
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 6
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 5
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 4
Has Some Serious Bag Baggage, Part 3

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This Regular Is Highly Irregular

, , , , , , | Right | May 3, 2021

I’m a new cashier in a supermarket. When we are not busy, I will help stock shelves. Half an hour before close, I am cleaning my register; luckily, we have no customers. My manager is restocking the cigarettes when a guy high as a kite walks in wearing nothing but a white sock on his left foot.

Me: “Ah, [Manager].”

My manager looks up in time to see him walk down an aisle. She’s momentarily stunned.

Manager: “Oh, umm… [My Name], can you please go and stock and keep an eye out for customers?”

Me: *Trying my hardest not to laugh* “Sure thing.”

I stand and tidy the end display between the aisle he went down and the next while my manager calls the cops. I watch him grab a soft drink and start drinking it while dancing around to the next aisle. He grabs a multipack of chocolates and dances on the spot while singing gibberish.

The cops arrive within five minutes. One is carrying a blanket and wraps it around him.

Officer #1: “[High Guy], you need to come with us. We’ll take you home.”

High Guy: *More gibberish*

Officer #2: “Come on, they’re closing now. Time to go.”

They lead him out of the store; he goes without a fight.

Me: *To the manager* “What the h***?”

Manager: “He comes in occasionally high, but that’s a first.”

A couple of months later, he came back and apologized for what had happened. The cops took him to the hospital that night. He then checked into rehab and got himself clean, and five years later he’s still a regular customer and is doing really well.

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When “Down The Street” Doesn’t Take Into Account The Length Of The Street

, , | Right | May 3, 2021

It is before the era of Google Maps and the like. I work for a popular fast food franchise in the middle of a large center. It’s right in the middle of the Saturday lunch rush.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Fast Food Chain]; how can I help you today?”

Customer: “Hi. I’m trying to find out the name of that sporting goods store that’s a few stores down from you so I can find its opening hours.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t actually know the name of that store off the top of my head. Let me just quickly ask around if any of my coworkers know it.”

I ask my coworkers, but it’s an obscure store and no one knows it exactly and can only guess.

Me: “I’m sorry, but no one here knows the name of the store. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Customer: “Well, that’s bulls***! Can’t you just walk down there, find out, and then come back and tell me?”

Me: “Sir, if I was to do that, I would have to leave my place of work, spend ten minutes walking down the road to find the name of a business not our own, and then spend ten minutes walking back, right in the middle of the Saturday lunch rush.”

Customer: “Yes! F****** h***, it’s not that hard.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t help you with your inquiry today.”

I hung up. The flabbergasted face of my manager who’d overheard the whole conversation said it all.

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Who The Heck Is The Captain On This Ship?!

, , , | Working | April 30, 2021

As part of my job, I am required to set up floor displays of stock. Usually, if the store manager hasn’t told us how he wants it to look and is not available, we set the areas up and when he’s available he either approves or not.

The store I work at is fairly new and really there’s been no real definition of staff roles around the store. I am setting up a display when a coworker who always seems to be with the store manager and has a hand in basically everything around the store comes up to me.

Coworker #1: “That’s not the right place for that to go. It should be part of the next section.”

Me: “But I thought [Store Manager] wanted it here; he got us to clear out this area yesterday.”

Coworker #1: “No, it needs to move, and you need to put [other stock] here. It’s what [Store Manager] will want.”

I do as instructed. The next day, when the store manager is back in the store, he comes to look through my department.

Store Manager: “[My Name], why is [stock] up here?”

Me: “[Coworker #1] told me that’s where it goes.”

Store Manager: *Sighs* “When will [Coworker #1] understand that he doesn’t run this place? He’s not a manager. Don’t listen to him in future. It’s just [Coworker #2] and me that you need to listen to; she’s head of this department.”

That’s news to me because I have never even seen that coworker even enter the department I work in. I don’t, until a few weeks later when [Store Manager] is away for a week. [Coworker #2] comes into the department with [Coworker #1] as I am unpacking some new stock.  

Coworker #2: “[My Name], what are you up to?”

Me: “Just working out how to display the new stock we have. [Store Manager] wants it put against this wall as a floor stack. I am just opening cartons to see sizes and numbers of the stock available to create the stacks.”

[Coworker #2] talks to me as if I don’t know what I am doing.

Coworker #2: “Well, what if we do it this way: put the larger items to the back and then stagger them down to the smaller items?”

I internally roll my eyes because that’s the way I always do this sort of stacking. Then, she turns to [Coworker #1].

Coworker #2: “Is it all right with you if it’s done that way?”

[Coworker #1] agreed and they wandered off, leaving me to think that maybe [Store Manager] should talk to his second in command and tell her that [Coworker #1] isn’t her boss.

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Mummy’s Always There For You… If You Send A Text

, , , , , , , | Related | April 24, 2021

I’m a doctor at a private practice, looking over a young woman who made an appointment this morning because she doesn’t feel well. Unfortunately, due to other circumstances, we’re actually running quite late today, so she’s been waiting for more than an hour. In that time, her symptoms have progressed enough that I’m confident she needs an intravenous antibacterial, rather than waiting for the few days it’ll take for oral medicine to work.

That means that she needs to go to the hospital’s emergency wait room. That’s an instruction that’s terrifying under any circumstance, and in this case, while she’s still lucid; her symptoms have progressed enough that I’ve been able to observe her having more and more trouble focusing through our appointment.

Me: “You can drive yourself to the hospital, but I really think it would be better to have someone with you. Do you want me to explain all that to your parents or a partner, as well? You can call them if you like.”

Patient: “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

She gets out her mobile phone and calls. After a minute, I hear the tell-tale voice of an automatic answering machine.

Patient: “Mum, Mum, it’s [Patient]. Pick up the phone. Pick up the phone. I know you’re listening. I know you’re home today, and I know you always just let the phone go to voicemail, but this is important.” *Pause* “All right, fine. Mum, the doctor is sending me to the hospital emergency room. I bet now you feel guilty.”

She did successfully call her father after that.

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