A Two Too Much

, , , , | Working | July 24, 2018

(It’s time for my yearly review, so my boss and I sit down to discuss my strengths and weaknesses, on a scale of one to five, as an employee.)

Boss: “Just to let you know, my boss won’t let me give anyone a four or a five. So I gave you mostly threes. Let’s start with your communication; that’s a three.”

Me: *thinking “Why do fours and fives even exist, then?”* “So, how would I get a four or a five? You just complimented me the other day that my etiquette was perfect! If you think it’s perfect, and it’s only a three, what can I possibly do to get a four or a five?”

Boss: “I’ll ask my boss. The next one: following procedures. I only gave you a two for that.”

Me: “A two?”

Boss: *nods* “You’ve documented all the incidents properly, which I noted here.”

Me: “If I documented them all properly, then why am I only getting a two?”

Boss: “Because most of them deal with the same family. It looks like you’re picking on them.”

Me: *fighting the urge to jaw drop* “But they’re in here every day, and they always cause trouble, every day. Just yesterday [Coworker] had to kick them out when the boys started punching each other.”

Boss: “And you both documented it, which was good. But it looks like you’re picking on them.”

Me: “So, what do you want me to do? If they cause problems again — which they will — do you want us to kick them out without making documentation for your boss to see?”

Boss: “Oh, no! You have to document everything properly! We need the paper trail in case anything comes back again.”

Me: “But you know this family. The parents just dump their kids here — five boys, all between the ages of eight and twelve — and leave. The kids run amok. They get into fist-fights with each other, vandalize our equipment, and scream about bombing things around the families who come in with toddlers. Our other regular customers are starting to avoid the center entirely when these kids are there. Just last month, all of them surrounded one of their classmates and were calling him [homosexual slur]; the poor kid was in tears.”

Boss: “I know they can be difficult sometimes, but you just need to be patient. I’m not here a lot of the time, so you just need to keep documenting everything.”

Me: “So, next time they start shouting profanity or singing about [male anatomy], I’ll report it again like I have been doing?”

Boss: “Don’t do that. It’ll make it look like you’re just singling them out.”

Me: “No one else sings about [male anatomy] to the families with babies.”

Boss: “We just can’t have you always picking on them. They’re only kids, after all. You need to be patient. Now, let’s get back to your annual review. I’m giving you a two for following procedures.”

(The ENTIRE rest of the evaluation was every bit as nightmarish. And before anyone in the comments suggests banning those boys, my boss’s boss refuses to, because she pities them for their “bad home life.”)

Refunder Blunder, Part 39

, , , , , | Right | July 24, 2018

(A customer comes into the store to return a Wii console.)

Me: “Do you have the receipt?”

Customer: “Oh, it’s in my car; I’ll go get it.”

(He comes back in and hands me a crumpled receipt, folded over.)

Me: *looks at receipt* “Sir, this receipt is for [Competing Store].”

Customer: “So?”

Me: “So, I can’t give you a refund if you didn’t purchase it from here.”

Customer: “But you sell these here, so I should be able to return it here.”

Me: “Yes, sir, we sell them here, but you gave your money to [Competing Store], not to [Our Store], so we can not return the money we never had in our possession. That’s a loss for our company, and a gain for our competitor, and I wouldn’t even be able to sell this system as new because it has been opened and played.”

Customer: “Let me speak to your manager!”

Me: “I am the manager on duty at this time, but I will tell you that even our corporate office will tell you the same thing.”

Customer: “But you have Wiis here! I don’t see the problem!”

Me: *mentally slams head into counter repeatedly*

Refunder Blunder, Part 38
Refunder Blunder, Part 37
Refunder Blunder, Part 36

Her Heart Just Wasn’t In It

, , , , | Right | July 24, 2018

(I work in a butcher’s shop. It is a pretty calm day at the store. I am helping a few customers when a very forceful lady makes her way to the front of the line. I am already helping another customer, so my coworker walks over to help her.)

Customer: “I need ten pounds of cow heart!”

(At my store, we don’t carry cow heart without special orders, as it’s so rarely purchased.)

Coworker: “Well, we don’t have any right now, but we can order it for you. It may take a few days, though.”

Customer: “I need it soon! I’ll drop by tomorrow to get it!”

(Special orders tend to take at least three days to get to our store, and we attempt to explain that, but she doesn’t listen and comes in every day for the next four days as we wait for the hearts to come in, the entire time insisting she needs ten pounds. Finally, after four days, the hearts come in — ten pounds as she asked. When she walks up I am the only one at the counter.)

Customer: “Are my hearts here yet?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, here they are, as you asked. Can we do anything else for you?”

(As soon as I hand the box of hearts to her, she promptly ignores me as she starts looking at the box of hearts, before she throws three of them on the counter.)

Customer: “I only need seven pounds.”

(With that she walked off, leaving me with three cow hearts that we later had to mark as loss as we couldn’t sell them, and all I could do was laugh at how insistent she was on ten pounds of cow heart.)

Taking Out The Best Employees With The Trash

, , , , , , , | Working | July 23, 2018

Recently, our store’s trash compactor broke down. For the time being, management just had our clerks put the trash bags out in the rear lot on pallets next to the compactor until they could bring a dumpster in. This was all store trash, including things like scraps from our meat shop, sitting outside for two or three days in 90-degree heat.

Once they brought a dumpster in, they assigned two of the clerks to take all those trash bags and throw them into it to be taken away. One unlucky clerk went to throw a bag of meat shop trash in, and had it burst in his hands, splashing him from head to toe with rancid, raw meat and drippings.

That’s gross and unfortunate, but it got stupid when he asked to go home and change, and was told by the store manager to stay and finish his shift. The guy lived just down the road, probably would have been back within 20 minutes, and even offered to work past his shift to make up the lost time. But instead, they kept him working in those filthy clothes for another three hours. And he was told to do nothing but lot duty — something clerks are only supposed to do in half-hour increments in hot weather — the entire time so the smell wouldn’t offend customers.

He’s been one of our best and most reliable clerks — it says something that he followed orders there — but he put in his two weeks after that.

Misunderstood Who The Google Assistant Is Meant To Be

, , , , , | Right | July 23, 2018

(It’s a very busy Sunday. We are desperately understaffed, and I’m currently the only person in my entire department. The phone rings.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store] at [Location]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Hi. I’m looking to buy a pair of shoes. I live in [Town about 45 minutes away]. How do I get to your store?”

Me: “Oh, well, I’m actually not too sure. Sorry! No one who works here is from that area, so I’m not exactly sure which roads to take. I would suggest using Google Maps?”

Caller: “No. No, that’s not good enough. Go and find someone who can give me directions.”

Me: “I’m very sorry, sir, but I’m currently the only person working in my department. I do know for certain that Google Maps would show you the fastest way, however.”

Caller: “Well, then, go to your computer, look up the directions, and read them to me.”

Me: *shocked* “Um… I’m sorry? I’m not sure I quite understand.”

Caller: “Go look up the directions. I’ll get in my car now and you can direct me.”

Me: “You want me to leave my department and direct you for 45 minutes, instead of you looking up the directions yourself?”

Caller: “Yes.”

Me: “Um… No.”

Caller: “But what if I don’t have the Internet?! You have to do this! This is terrible customer service!”

Me: “Sir, do you mind me asking how you found our store’s number?”

Caller: “I looked it up on Google.”

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