On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 17

, , , , | Right | July 2, 2018

(It’s late at night and my shift ends in ten minutes. My managers have been harping on me all evening to get a credit application, so when I see this family, I think I might finally have a chance to convince them to apply. The man is middle-aged and his wife and son are looking at a new leather recliner that seats two. As I’m walking up to them, I hear the wife mention how much she likes the chair, and the man is taking pictures of her and their son sitting on it.)

Man: *to me* “Hey, come on over and join us. This chair looks awesome.”

(I cheerfully step up as he gestures for me to join the picture, thinking I really might get a credit app with this one. I crouch in front of the seat.)

Man: “No, no, no. On the seat with them.”

Son: “Dad, no. Don’t make her do anything weird.”

Me: *half-hearted chuckle* “Thank you, sir. But I prefer here. Now, if you really like this chair, I can save you…”

(I’m unable to finish as this man, three times my size — because I’m tiny — lumbers toward me, scoops me up by my underarms like a child, and proceeds to throw me into the air onto his wife and son who have to catch me. He then snaps back and starts taking pictures while his wife half laughs and half berates him. The son is apologizing and blushing like mad.)

Son: “Dad, you can’t just do that to people.”

Wife: “You shouldn’t have done that! She may have the store call the cops. You just accosted this poor girl! I am so sorry about him. Are you okay?”

(I shakily slide off the chair and nod, trying to find my bearings.)

Man: “She’s fine. We New Yorkers are like that, just having some fun. Right?”

(I force a smile at him and mutter that it’s the most interesting night since I started working at the store.)

Man: “See? She’s fine. All good.”

(He started walking away, muttering about what to look at next, and the wife and son apologized again before following him. At that point, I didn’t care anymore about credit applications. I ran to my manager, who laughed about and said there was nothing that could be done since I didn’t get hurt. I was so glad to be going home then.)

On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 16
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 15
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 14

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Trick Or Treat

, , , , | Related | July 1, 2018

(My family has five pets: three cats and two dogs. On this day, all five of them are in the living room lounging, looking out windows, sleeping, etc. I’m with my sister in the kitchen, which looks directly into the living room. While talking to my sister, I hear one of the cats start to scratch the furniture.)

Me: *looks over* “[Cat], stop that or you won’t get any more treats.”

(At the word, “treat,” all five animals, even those asleep or distracted, turn their heads in unison to look at me, like something from an Alfred Hitchcock movie.)

Sister: “Well, that was creepy.”

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Breaking Badly

, , , , | Working | June 28, 2018

(I work both cash and floor. My store has been having problems with a few of the registers, but tech support said they have resolved the issues. We have six registers, numbered as such.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], number one is down again, so hop on six, instead.”

(I log in and ring up items before I have to manually enter a SKU, which causes the register to freeze, then crash.)

Manager: “I’ll do a reset; go on four until [Coworker] comes back from lunch. Use my login, since you’re logged in on the frozen register.”

(I log in and continue ringing up customers. Everything is fine for ten minutes or so; I can enter items manually without issue. Then, four crashes.)

Me: “Hey, [Manager], four just went down; should I hop on two?”

Manager: “Yes, but use [Other Manager’s] number, since mine and yours are still logged in.”

(I attempt to log in to two, and it immediately crashes. During this time, my coworkers on three and five have had zero issues with their registers.)

Manager: “Okay, stop touching registers. Grab your RF gun and start doing go-backs.”

(RF — radio frequency — guns are handheld scanners used to check locations of items in the store, inventory amounts, print new tags, etc. I grab my RF and start putting things back. Less than five minutes later, my RF gun freezes. I grab another one, and despite the battery being fully charged, it immediately goes black and won’t turn on.)

Me: “Hey [Manager], I think I just killed two RFs. Should I try going back on cash for a bit? The line is pretty long.”

Manager: *jokingly* “Okay, but don’t break them this time!”

(I log onto four and start ringing up customers. I’m in the middle of a return, and the register freezes.)

Manager: *sighs heavily, but jokingly* “Okay, go do go-backs again. I’ll ring. Don’t touch any electronic devices. Don’t go near any of the floor scanners or cameras.”

(I start doing go-backs again, only doing the items I know without using a scanner. I’m in the jewelry section when the security camera above me goes black. I radio my manager.)

Me: “Um, [Manager]? I think I just broke the security camera. I didn’t touch it, I swear!”

(The cameras hang from our over 20-foot-tall ceilings, so it would be impossible for me to touch them.)

Manager: “Are you a magnet or something? Go take a break, [My Name], and DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING.”

(My manager sent me home early that day — with pay — just so I wouldn’t break anything else. Now all my coworkers call me Magneto, though I haven’t had any tech issues since.)

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A Weighty Request

, , , , | Right | June 28, 2018

(I’m a volunteer at an animal shelter. A woman comes in wanting to adopt a cat.)

Woman: “Do you have any fat cats?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Woman: “You know, obese? Plump?”

Me: “Well, we try to maintain the health of the animals here, so any overweight cats are on strict diets. May I ask why you are looking for a, um, fat cat?”

Woman: “You may not.”

(She leaves the shelter. I hear her yell outside.)

Woman: “Honey, they were out of fat cats!”

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Something Fishy About These Hamsters

, , , , , | Right | June 27, 2018

(I’m talking to a customer about hamsters. We are standing in front of the hamster cages, going over basic care when a young girl — seven or eight at the oldest — comes up.)

Girl: “Excuse me.”

Me: “Yes?”

Girl: “Where are the real hamsters?”

Me: “Real hamsters?”

Girl: “Yeah, where are the real hamsters?”

Me: “They’re right here!” *smiles and gestures to cages in front of me with hamsters in them*

Girl:That’s going to be my class pet!? I knew we should’ve gotten a fish!” *looks horrified, then runs away*

(I couldn’t tell if the customers I’d been helping were laughing at the girl, or my facial expression.)

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