Need To See It To Believe It

, , , , , | Working | April 12, 2018

(I’m 5’3″, and while I’m not the shortest person at work, I still tend to get overlooked… a lot. This happens in a single shift. The manager calls a store meeting. I take my place on the floor next to several other employees. I am sitting right in front of where she is standing.)

Manager: “Where’s [My Name]? [MY NAME]!”

Me: “I’m right here, [Manager].”

Manager: “Oh.”


Manager: “And [My Name], go to aisle [number] and start pulling down overstock.”

(I’m in the aisle, digging through a box when the manager looks down my aisle and bellows over the radio:)

Manager: “[My Name]! I told you do go to Aisle [Number]!”

Me: *standing five feet away, straight down the aisle from where she’s standing* “What the heck do you think I’m doing?!”

Manager: “Oh. I didn’t see you.”

Me: *annoyed* “Obviously.”

(Even later…)

Manager: *bellowing into the walkie-talkie* “[My Name]! You’re supposed to be helping in the framing department!”

(I am up a ladder, handing a box of overstocked frames down to my coworker. We’re both less than three feet away.)

Me: “G**d*** it, [Manager]!”

Manager: “Oh, there you are.”

Me: “Grr…”

Coworker: “Maybe you’re like the elf who helps out the cobbler. You know, never seen, but always gets the job done?”

Me: “I wouldn’t mind so much if it didn’t get me yelled at!”

Crafting Some Beautiful Moments

, , , | Hopeless | April 6, 2018

I work in a large craft store. Most customers aren’t terrible, though there are a few “special” ones that ruin your week. This customer was the opposite.

She came in wanting to buy crafts to make with her nine-year-old grandson. I nanny two nine-year-old boys as a side job, so I volunteered to help her. It turns out her grandson lives abroad, and she hadn’t seen him since he was four, because travel is so expensive and she’s not in the best health.

We spent a good half hour walking around and finding cool things to do together, because she wasn’t totally sure what he would like. We covered all the bases, from dinosaurs, to outer space, to building, to painting, to costumes, and everything in between. It was fun. She was very nice, and almost vibrating with excitement about the upcoming visit. It gets better, though.

The next week, she came back in just to show me pictures of their awesome projects. I almost teared up. They built this entire mini-city, spending four straight days working together and bonding. He got to use a hand saw and hot glue and other tools, and in every picture he was covered in paint and dust and absolutely beaming.

Those pictures make all the mean customers and the sore feet worth it. Everyone loves feeling appreciated, and customer service workers don’t get nearly enough.

Extreme Couponing Extremely Offended

, , , , , | Right | April 5, 2018

Me: “Hello, did you find everything you were looking for today?”

Customer: “Yes, I can’t believe this item is on sale! And then there is another 25% off coupon on top of that!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but that coupon is not good on [Sale] items.”

Customer: “This is not a [Sale] item!!”

Me: “Here is the ad; it does show that this is a [Sale] item.”

Customer: “Well, the ad I got in the mail does not say that it is a [Sale] item! This is false advertising! I will never shop here again, and I am going to contact your corporate office!”

Me: “Let me find the mailer and double-check; if it is a misprint they will accept it.”

(I dig in the trash to find a mailer and realize that the item she has just happens to be on the opposite side of her coupon. I flip her coupon over, and the item is pictured on the back of her coupon. Sure enough, the item has a banner across it saying, “[Sale], no further discounts or coupons apply.”)

Customer: “Well, that is just ridiculous, and I will not be back!”

Me: “Would you like me to remove the item?”

Customer: “No, I’ll take it!”

Me: “Your total is [total].”

Customer: “That is just f****** crazy!”

Me: “I can still remove it with no problem.”

(The customer swipes her card, cussing and muttering the entire time. I bag her purchase, thank her, and hand her the receipt.)

Customer: “You really enjoyed that, didn’t you?!” *throws her coupon at me and storms out*

Not So Closed Minded, Part 27

, , | Right | April 4, 2018

(I work in a craft store that also does framing orders. We often have customers unsure about our store hours on Sundays, because we open an hour later and close two hours earlier on those days. It is closing time, and we are just getting our last customers out the door, which always takes a little longer on Sundays because of the store closing earlier. I am pulling in our sidewalk displays when a car pulls into the empty parking lot. A young girl, no older than 13, jogs up to the door.)

Me: “I’m sorry. The store is closed now.”

Young Teen: *obviously distressed* “Oh, you’re closed?”

Me: “Yes, I’m so sorry. We open at nine am tomorrow.”

Young Teen: *more distressed now* “But, this framing order says it’s done today for pickup. Is there any way you can let me in?”

Me: “No, I’m really sorry. If it helps, it’s totally fine if you wait until tomorrow morning to pick it up. The order will still be there, since it was already paid for.”

(The teen nods her head, considers for a moment, then jogs back to the car. Not a minute later, we get a phone call. My manager answers and talks to the person on the line for quite a while, and I continue bringing in our sidewalk displays.)

Manager: *over the headset* “Hey, [Framer], I’m sorry, but can you bring this order to the front of the store?”

Framer: *sighs dramatically* “Yeah, I can.” *softer* “Even though we’re closed, and have been for ten minutes.”

(I noticed that the same teen was waiting out at the front of our store, looking nervous and a little upset. I smiled empathetically at her, and she smiled a bit back. It took two people and the young teen to get the massive, heavy frame into the car. Later, my manager told us over the headset that she did it because the mother who called the store — after her daughter told her that we were closed — was so unreasonable that she felt sorry for the teen, who was absolutely polite about the matter. The kicker? The rude mother managed to drive through a pothole, causing the hubcap of one of her tires to fall off.)

Customised Failure

, , , , | Working | April 4, 2018

(I work as a shift leader for a fabric store. Toward the end of my shift, I go to the office to finish the paperwork for a few orders. I’m seated at the computer finishing up an email when my general manager enters the office to start her shift. The office is also where we store custom orders when they come in, so they don’t get confused with regular stock. A few items are standing in one corner waiting for pick-up, clearly marked.)

General Manager: “Hey, [My Name]! How’d today go? Did the truck come in okay?”

Me: “Afternoon, [General Manager]. Not bad, though they didn’t include the new holiday decorations that were in the inventory. I was just putting through a couple of custom orders before I head home.”

General Manager: “Oh, okay. Sales are good?”

(By now, she’s put her purse away and has started shuffling around the custom orders in the corner.)

Me: “A bit slow, but not the worst we’ve had this week.”

General Manager: *suddenly annoyed* “[My Name], why aren’t these on the floor yet?”

Me: “Pardon?”

General Manager: “These rolls, they’re the restock for the home decor, right?”

Me: “No, they’re custom orders. The customers haven’t picked them up yet, but I called them this morning and left messages that their fabric was in.”

General Manager: “So, why aren’t these on the floor?”

Me: “Because they’re not for the floor; they’re custom orders that are waiting to be picked up.”

General Manager: “Oh.”

Me: “Anyway, I’m going to clock out now.”

General Manager: “So, why aren’t these on the floor?”

Me: *exasperated by now* “Because we can’t sell them!”

General Manager: “Why not?!”

Me: “Because they’re custom orders, and the customers already paid for them, and they would be pissed!”

General Manager: “Oh.”

Me: *still exasperated* “Is that all?”

General Manager: “I guess.” *muttering under her breath as I leave*

(I didn’t work another shift for two days. When I came back, the assistant store manager informed me that the general manager had put the custom orders on the floor, despite what I had told her, and despite the tags plastered on the rolls with the customers’ names and phone numbers. One roll had been cut by the time the customer came to pick up her fabric, and she was understandably furious. From then on, the general manager had nothing to do with custom orders.)

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