Lose The Bike Or Take A Hike

, , , , | Right | August 14, 2017

(A customer service supervisor and I are working the front desk on a busy Saturday morning. A woman walks in to the store followed closely by a boy, who looks to be about 10-11, who is riding a bicycle. The woman goes to get a cart and the boy starts riding circles in our front area.)

Supervisor: “Excuse me, ma’am, he can’t ride his bike in here.”

Woman: *waving him off* “Oh, don’t worry about him. He will be fine.”

Supervisor: I’m sorry, he can’t ride a bike in here; someone might get hurt. He will have to leave the bike outside.”

Woman: *getting angry* “We can’t leave the bike outside! IT WILL GET STOLEN!”

(Meanwhile, the child is still riding circles and essentially blocking the entire front area. Other customers are trying to get through but can’t because they run the risk of getting hit by the kid.)

Supervisor: “Fine, leave the bike up here and we will keep an eye on it, while you shop. He cannot ride it through the store. We can’t have anyone getting hurt.”

Woman: “Are you kidding me? Do you see how busy it is? If you take your eyes off of it for a second someone will snatch it. He will be f—“

(The woman can’t finish her sentence as the child crashes into a display of grape jelly. The display is about four feet tall and the jars are glass. We watch as the kid crashes to the floor and then the display topples over, sending jars, glass, and grape jelly all over the floor. None of the debris hits the kid, but he is lying on the floor in shock.)

Woman: “I am not cleaning that up!”

Supervisor: “No, but you are going to pay for all the damaged merchandise.”

Woman: “I will not! That display was flimsy. I will sue if he is hurt.”

Supervisor: “I’m calling the police.” *goes to grab the phone*

Woman: *wide eyed* “No, no, no, don’t do that!”

(She grabbed the child and the bike and ran out the door. The supervisor and I started asking the other customers in the vicinity if they were okay. Fortunately, nobody was hurt. The supervisor ran outside to try to catch the woman, but she had disappeared. Two of my coworkers and I spent over two hours cleaning the big mess.)

Rage Mop When They Just Won’t Rage Quit

, , , , , | Right | August 13, 2017

(I ran a handful of errands before my opening shift at the store. Because I’ve been hustling due to the trains being delayed and I’m carrying four heavy bags AND it’s over 95 degrees out, I am sweaty, red, and frustrated when I arrive. I’ve arrived 45 minutes before we open because I want to mop after an especially busy and dirty weekend. Our store has a more casual policy on customer service — essentially, be polite but don’t suffer fools. I rarely take advantage of this as 20 years of service industry jobs have brainwashed standards into me, but today I am running on no sleep and possible heat exhaustion. A lady is standing outside the gated store when I arrive.)

Lady: “Oh, good, you’re finally here.”

Me: “I beg your pardon?”

Lady: “Are you opening? You’re late!”

Me: “I am opening, ma’am, but the store doesn’t open until 11. You’ve got 45 minutes left.”

Lady: “That’s wrong.”

Me: ”It isn’t. It’s on the sign right here.” *I point*

Lady: “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I need a card.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not going to let you in 45 minutes before open, certainly not for a $4 card. There’s a CVS up the street and about 11 stationery stores within a 10 block radius. I’m here early because the store needs to be cleaned and this is the ONLY time I can fit it in around my three jobs. Please come back at 11.”

(She huffs and starts to walk off so I go about raising the gate and wrestling the ancient oak door open. Suddenly I feel a shove from behind me, and this lady is trying to shove her way into the store past me!)

Me: *screaming with all of my rage from the morning* “WHAT THE F**K ARE YOU DOING?! GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU LUNATIC!”

(She stops, looking shocked. I am enraged, so I simply hurl my bags through the door, shoulder it closed, and lock it in her face. We stare at each other through the glass for a second, then I turn away and start my tasks while taking deep breaths. The phone rings several times but I can see her pressed against the door window with her cell to her ear so I ignore it. My cell phone rings then and I see it’s my boss, who opens the main store in another neighborhood an hour earlier than this one.)

Me: “Hi, [Boss].”

Boss: “Hey… how’s the mopping going?”

Me: “Just getting started. Had some difficulty getting into the store this morning.”

Boss: “Yeah, uh, a lady called and says you slapped her, kicked her, and called her a b**** this morning?”

Me: “…no.”

Boss: “What happened?”

Me: “She was here when I got here, ignored me when I asked her to come back after open, and then shoved me to try and force her way inside. I screamed at her because she startled me and I was hot and tired, and then I locked the door in her face. She’s outside right now staring at me through the window.”

Boss: “Whoah. That’s nuts. If she is still there at open, call the police. Are you okay?”

Me: “Yeah. Just angry.”

Boss: “Yeah, if she comes in after you open refuse her service. Tell her to leave. If you want I can come there for support.”

Me: “Nah, I can handle that. I’m calmer now, after rage-mopping.”

Boss: ”Okay. Hang in there!”

(The lady finally left about 10 minutes before opening. Apparently she had called my boss again and he told her to leave or he’d call the police. Then she called again and screamed at him and he hung up on her. She left eight voice messages on our machine.)

1 Thumbs
1,046
VOTES

They’re Not Playing Around In That Playground

, , , | Right | August 12, 2017

(I’m about six years old. My grandparents operate a big, Oktoberfest-y beer garden with up to 1000 visitors a day, and a connected playground. When I visit for the summer I am always eager to help. Since they can’t have a child running around behind the tills, they invent the job of ‘playground supervisor’ for me and tell me to see that everybody is having fun. I’m doing just that when I see a kid shove another kid from the swing and spit on him.)

Me: “Hey! You can’t do that!”

Rude Kid: “Shut up! I can do whatever I want!”

Me: “No! That was bad! Please apologize and let him back on the swing…”

(In the same moment I feel the hand of an adult violently grabbing me by the arm and yanking me to the nearby registers. My grandpa, who was standing behind it, sees this from afar and already comes around the front of the till.)

Rude Adult: *to me* “You’ll be sorry for that!” *to my grandpa* “This spoiled brat was rude and insulted my child and me! I want you to throw him off the premises alongside his useless parents or I’ll give him the whipping he very clearly needs! And I want you to comp my meal for the hostile environment you exposed my child to!”

Grandpa: *quietly by visibly furious beneath the surface* “[My Name], why don’t you go back to the playground?”

(I turned around and went back to the playground but still could see that it was dawning on the rude woman that she made a terrible mistake. A few moments later an employee came and escorted the rude child alongside his mother and her friends out of the beer garden. I don’t know what was spoken but they looked mortified and I’ve never seen them back in the years since.)

1 Thumbs
1,364
VOTES

Nevertheless You’re Still Getting The Write Up

, , , , | Working | August 12, 2017

(I am called into the office and issued a write-up. I read it. I seriously think it is a joke.)

Me: “Excuse me, could you please explain this? It states that I’m being written up for using ‘nevertheless’ in a conversation with a customer.”

Boss: “Yes, she complained that you used a word she didn’t know and made her feel stupid.”

Me: “How is it my fault that she’s stupid for not knowing what ‘nevertheless’ means? She’s an affluent forty-year-old and is a native English speaker. There’s no reason for her not to know the meaning of the word.”

Boss: “Well, I didn’t know what it meant, either.”

Me: “Once again, how’s that my fault? It’s a perfectly common word. I’d expect a third grader to be able to infer what it meant, even if they didn’t know the meaning. I refuse to dumb down my vocabulary for idiots.”

Boss: *deer in headlights look* “You may go now.”

(No, I wasn’t fired. My boss pretty much ignored me after that incident. I heard from another coworker that I stumped the boss with my use of “affluent.” I quit shortly after.)

Not In Line And Out Of Line

, , , , , | Right | August 10, 2017

(It is very busy at this store, where it is typically very busy as it is in a popular tourist spot. The staff is moving very quickly and the line is moving fast. I am waiting in line to buy something when this lady walks straight up to the counter, looks at me and the people in line behind me, and just goes straight for the cashier. I walk up to the counter and put my things down.)

Me: “Hi, I was next in line. Ma’am, the line starts back there.”

Woman: “Uh, no, I was actually next.”

Cashier: “Ma’am, I just saw you walk up here. Please wait in line.”

Me: *hands my things to the cashier*

Woman: “I WAS NEXT IN LINE!”

Me: “No, that would be me. Goodbye.”

(The guy who was right behind me chimes in.)

Man: “C’mon, lady. The line is moving fast. You don’t need to throw a tantrum because you got caught trying to cut.

Woman: “THIS IS F****** RIDICULOUS! I WAS NEXT IN LINE! YOU CAN’T JUST PRETEND LIKE I WASN’T STANDING HERE!”

(She then throws all of her items on the floor. She is so angry, she is completely red in the face.)

Cashier: *annoyed* “I’m calling security if you don’t leave right now.”

Woman: “I’M NOT LEAVING! I WAS NEXT IN LINE!”

(Security arrives quickly and it takes both of them to wrestle her arms down and drag her outside. She is literally kicking them and screaming at the top of her lungs. Everyone in the store just watches with their mouths wide open.)

Me: “Uh… so… that was something.”

Cashier: “She did the same thing earlier today. We told her not to come back. I didn’t recognize her right away. I’m sorry about that.”

Man: “Made my day more interesting!”

Page 341/361First...339340341342343...Last