What Can I Do Except Pay You?

, , , , , | Working | October 16, 2017

(As a side job while I’m in college, I referee for the local region of a national organization that is, in short, miserable to work for. We work tournaments that last from 7 am until 11 pm for two to three days in a row, and often times get few or no breaks, due to the shortage of referees. We’re only paid $18 a match and work 12 to 14 matches a day. We’re also not compensated for our food, travel, or lodging while at the tournament. When they ask me to work a tournament two-and-a-half hours away from my house, I’m glad to say no due to my affiliations playing and coaching with several of the major clubs that are traveling to play. The day before the tournament, though, the director calls me.)

Director: “Hey, [My Name], I know you said no to working this weekend, but we have a mass shortage of referees and I desperately need you to work. Can you please come?”

Me: “As I said before, there’s too much conflict of interest due to my affiliations with [Major Club #1] and [Major Club #2]. Everybody that plays and coaches there knows exactly who I am.”

Director: “Well, I trust you to be fair and I need you badly, so please come anyways. We can figure out a way for you to not work those clubs.”

Me: “It’s not just them; lots of the players that I’ve coached have since moved on to smaller clubs. I’m not comfortable reffing anyone that I’ve coached before. I don’t think there’s any way to avoid some conflict of interest this weekend.”

Director: “What’s it going to take to get you to come?”

Me: “$30 a match and full compensation for food, hotel, and gas.”

Director: “As I’ve said before, we cannot provide compensation to officials, only administrators, and the price you’re paid per match is non-negotiable.”

Me: “Well, then, see you at the next tournament. Thanks, anyway.”

Director: “But I really need you. What am I going to do now?”

Me: “I don’t know. Good bye.”

(I wonder what he wanted me to say when he asked me what it would take to get me to come.)

A Cents-less Waste Of Time

, , , , , , | Right | October 15, 2017

(Our gas station has a member’s card that you can scan when you pay and get $0.03 off per gallon of gas. This customer forgets to hand me their card to get the discount while they are pre-paying inside for their gas. Five minutes later, they’re back inside with their receipt, furious that they did not get their discount.)

Me: “Yes, sir; what can I do for you?”

Customer: “You didn’t scan my [Gas Station] card! I want my discount. You owe me a refund, son.”

Me: “I apologize for the inconvenience, sir, but I cannot go back and give you the discount when you didn’t give me the card to scan.”

Customer: “I just want my three f****** cents off!”

(I look at my screen and see that they only got $15, a little over six gallons-worth of gas.)

Me: “Do you have your card with you?”

(The customer hastily grabs their wallet, searches for a few seconds, and slams the card down on the counter angrily.)

Me: “I can’t scan the card for the previous transaction, but I’ll give you the refund for what would have been your discount since I have it right here anyway.”

(I handed them $0.18 from my till and replaced it with pennies from my “take one leave one” cup on the counter. The customer looked down at their dime, nickel, and three pennies, and gave me a telling look of embarrassment, knowing that they wasted five minutes and made of fool of themselves in front of the whole store for practically nothing.)

He Wasn’t In The Upper Sixtieth Percentile Of His Math Class

, , , , | Right | October 14, 2017

(I work as a cashier at a national arts and crafts retailer with an expansive framing department. Because of this, frame sales are run by individual collection, not style. A man and his wife approach the register with a pair of frames.)

Customer: “Now, the sign back there said, ‘Buy one, get one free.’”

(I ring them both, and they come up as on sale, but not BOGO.)

Me: “Actually, sir, these aren’t the collection we’re running buy-one-get-one on. They are on sale, though.”

Customer: “What? Can you double-check?”

(I do a quick price check, and they actually come up at 60% off each.)

Me: “Well, you’re in luck, sir; you’re actually going to get more off this way than if they were BOGO.”

Customer: “But they’re not buy-one-get-one?”

Me: “Well, no, sir, but they’re 60% off.”

Customer: “But that’s not what the sign says.”

Me: “I know, sir, but buy-one-get-one comes out to 50% off each, and these are on sale for 60% off each.”

Customer: “The sign says buy one get one free.”

(The customer’s wife starts to snicker.)

Me: “I don’t know what to tell you, sir.”

Customer: “I just want to pay what the sign says.”

Me: “Sir, you’ll pay more that way. Two 60%-off totals is more off than one full price and one free. There’s a 20% difference—”

Customer: “But the signs says—”

Customer’s Wife: *laughing* “[Customer], just pay for them.”

(The man grudgingly paid. His wife, now tearing up from laughing, winked and waved at me on the way out the door. He proceeded to rant loudly about “what the sign said” the whole way to the parking lot. I’m sorry you saved $4?)

On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 13

, , , , , , | Right | October 13, 2017

(It’s a quiet Sunday morning, and I’m the only cashier. An older man who looks at least 70 hobbles up to my register and places a shirt on the counter.)

Customer: “I’d like to get this shirt, and I was told you could also take the sensor tag off these pants I’m wearing so I can buy them.”

Me: “Uh, the pants you have on right now? They’re from here?”

Customer: “Yes. Trying them on tuckered me out, and the girl in the fitting room said you could remove the sensor tag up here at the register.”

(Our sensor-removers are secured to the counter, and I know for a fact that there’s no way this man could manage holding his leg up to get the sensor tag taken off. I stammer for a moment before remembering an unattached sensor tag remover we used for our express lane on Black Friday months ago.)

Me: “Right! Let me just see if someone can get us the sensor-remover we need.”

(I ask over the radio and receive some confusion over why I would need it, but eventually my manager says she’ll go to the lock box in the back and get it.)

Me: “All right, [Manager] is just grabbing that sensor-remover, and then you’ll be good to go!”

Customer: “But I was told that you could remove the sensor tag.”

Me: “Yeah, we can; it’s just that our normal removers are attached to the counter. [Manager] is grabbing the unattached one right now.”

Customer: “Well, I’ve already stood here longer than I can handle. If I have to go take the pants off, I just won’t buy them.”

Me: “No, it’s all right. The sensor-remover is on its way up right now; don’t worry.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous. I was told the sensor could be removed. I won’t buy the pants if I have to go take them off.”

(I’m taken aback by how angry the customer is getting, but thankfully my confused manager arrives at that moment with the unattached remover. I go around the counter and have to crouch down to try and remove the sensor at the bottom of the customer’s pants leg. It’s a tricky process, and I notice the man is balancing on one foot, so I tell him he can put his foot down if it would make him more comfortable.)

Customer: “Actually, I have an open sore on that foot.”

Me: *freezes* “Uh, where is that exactly, so I don’t bump it?”

Customer: “Oh, it’s just on the bottom of my foot.”

(With that gross image in mind, I was finally able to get the sensor removed from the pants. I then had to pull all the tags and stickers off of the pants, getting much closer and more touchy-feely with the customer than I would have ever wanted to. He left without so much as a “thank you,” and I promptly took a much needed break to shake off the heebie-jeebies the whole interaction gave me.)

The Customer Is Always… You

, , , , | Working | October 13, 2017

(Our team has just had a meeting where we were shown how important reading our customers’ minds are, and how important it is to imitate them.)

Me: *whispering* “I can’t believe that the boss expects us to now read the customers’ minds! What are we, psychic?! And imitating?”

Coworker: “I guess that means we’ll be expected to act angry and upset all the time. And customers have no minds, so…”

(His comment made me laugh hard after that terrible meeting.)

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