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Good News For A Change, Part 2

, , , , | Right | August 30, 2012

(It’s a very busy day at our drugstore. A customer comes to my register after waiting a very long time in line.)

Me: “Hello, did you find everything okay today?”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager immediately!”

Me: “Is there something I could help you with?”

Customer: “No, I want to speak with your manager now!”

(I page the manager, and mentally prepare myself for whatever argument this customer is about to unleash.)

Manager: “What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

Customer: “I need to tell you… I was in here yesterday and this man was just screaming at your employees. Nothing would stop him, he was so angry! They were all trying to be so helpful and he just kept screaming! You should be incredibly proud of your employees! They handled themselves so well and never once argued back!”

(She put a smile on all of our faces. When her transaction was finished, she told me to keep the change!)

Do As I Say, Not As A Drink

, , , | Working | August 28, 2012

(At my drugstore, we have a manager who berates us in front of customers. She also watches surveillance videos from days when she is not working, and then comes to our registers and yells at us for things we did days ago. One day, I get into my shift and see her working the register. I start preparing my register right away.)

Manager: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOU KNOW BETTER!”

Me: “What?”

Manager: “You KNOW that you are not allowed drinks behind the register!”

(The manager gestures to my bottled water. Note: store policy is that you cannot have food or drinks behind the register with the exception of water. As we work eight hour shifts and only got a half hour break, we are in fact encouraged to keep bottled water behind our registers.)

Manager: “I can’t believe you! Throw that away NOW, or put it in the break room! You know you can’t eat or drink behind the register. I mean, you’ve only been working here for THREE years. You know better! I can’t believe you!”

(My manager glares at me. She then reaches underneath her register and pulls out her OWN can of half-drunk soda, huge bag of half-eaten chips, and multitude of open candy bars and goes home for the night. I call up my first customer.)

Customer: “I am so sorry she did that to you! I promise to be nice to you!”

Price Check Yo Self

, , , , , , | Right | August 24, 2012

(A man comes up to my register with a cart FULL of different brands and sizes of beer.)

Customer #1: “Can you tell me the price for each one of these? I’m not sure which ones I want.”

(Because of how many types of beer he has, I know this will take a long time and will hold up the line, so I try another approach.)

Me: “The price for each one should have been listed on the shelf in front of them.”

Customer #1: “Well, they weren’t!”

Me: “Okay.”

(The customer hands me them. I scan each one and tell him the price. As I expected, an unhappy line of customers has formed behind him due to how long it’s taking.)

Me: “Which ones do you want?”

Customer #1: *counts out a handful of change* “Hmm… do you have any for less than $1.17?”

Me: “Uh, no. The six-packs are the cheapest, and they’re all around $5 at least.”

(The other customers waiting in line are fed up, and one finally speaks up.)

Customer #2: *to Customer #1* “Wait a second! Let me get this straight! You had her check the price of all of that beer, making us all wait, and you have less than $2?!”

Customer #1: “Well, not that it’s any of your business but… yes! It’s her job, after all!”

Customer #2: “Why didn’t you stop her after the six-packs? Those are obviously going to be cheaper than the larger packs!”

Customer #1: “Not necessarily!”

Customer #3: “Will you just get out of the way?”

Other Customers: *yelling in agreement*

(Customer #1 walks off. The rest of the customers in line help me load all the beer back into the cart and then return to the line.)

Me: “I’m sorry that took so long everyone!”

Customer #2: “Not your fault! You were just trying to provide good customer service! You didn’t know he was a moron!”

Where There’s Smoke, There’s Backfire

, , , , | Right | August 22, 2012

(I am working the register. A mother and her teenage daughter are quietly arguing nearby. When they’re done, the teenager comes up to my register while the mother lingers a few feet away.)

Teenage Customer: “I need a pack of [cigarettes]!”

Me: “Certainly! May I see your ID, please?”

Teenage Customer: “I’m with her.” *points to her mother*

Me: “Okay, but the person who actually purchases the cigarettes has to be at least 18, no matter who they are with.”

Teenage Customer: “Oh for f***’s sake!”

(The teenager goes over to her mother and they quietly argue some more. The mother reluctantly comes up to my register.)

Customer’s Mother: “I need a pack of [cigarettes], please.”

Me: “Are you purchasing them for yourself?”

Customer’s Mother: “No, I don’t smoke. They’re for my daughter. She’s not old enough to buy them for herself.”

Teenage Customer: “Shut up, Mom!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t sell the cigarettes to either of you.”

Teenage Customer: “Why the f*** not?”

Me: “Well, you’re not old enough to buy them and your mother just admitted that she’s buying them for someone who is underage.”

Teenage Customer: “They’re for her. Right, Mom?!” *pinches her mom’s arm*

Customer’s Mother: *meekly* “Yes, they’re for me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m still going to have to refuse the sale. Allowing someone to buy cigarettes for a minor is a bad as selling cigarettes to a minor. I could get into a lot of trouble.”

Teenage Customer: “Oh, f*** you! We’ll just get them someplace else!” *to her mom* “This is your fault!”

(Suddenly, a uniformed police officer appears out of nowhere. Apparently, he has witnessed the whole exchange from nearby.)

Police Officer: “Could I have a word with you, ladies?”

(I don’t know what happened to the mother and daughter, but I never saw them in the store again. The police officer reported the whole incident to my manager and I got a promotion!)

This We’ll Defend

, , , | Right | July 23, 2012

(I’m a female and I’m waiting for my girlfriend to get off work, and the person who was supposed to relieve her is running late, so I’m hanging around. My girlfriend is a hair under five feet tall, and maybe ninety pounds. She’s really little, and people try and intimidate her a lot because of this.)

My Girlfriend: “I’m sorry. It should be like half an hour.”

Me: “No problem.”

(A customer shoulders past me and shoves an item in my girlfriend’s face.)

Male Customer: “This place f***ing ripped me off!”

My Girlfriend: “What’s the problem, sir?”

Male Customer: “Don’t play with me, you stupid b****! I bought this and it won’t work!”

My Girlfriend: “Sir, may I see the item?”

Male Customer: *shoves it at her*

My Girlfriend: “Sir, this didn’t come from our store.”

Male Customer: “You callin’ me a liar, you stupid b****?!”

My Girlfriend: “Of course not, but this package has a label that clearly has the name of our competitor on it.”

Male Customer: “So, I bought it here!”

My Girlfriend: “I’m sorry, sir, but no, you didn’t.”

(At this point, another customer, who is a fairly petite woman, is standing behind him. She looks a little concerned. Without warning, the male customer takes a swing at my girlfriend.)

Male Customer: “You stupid c***! Do your d*** job and give me a f***ing refund!”

(Thankfully my girlfriend steps out of reach of the customer’s swing. However, the petite woman behind him suddenly surges forward, and in one swift movement twists his arm behind his back and slams his face down on the counter.)

Petite Woman: *to my girlfriend* “Honey, you may want to call 911.”

My Girlfriend: *stunned* “O-Okay…”

Me: *to the male customer* “Jesus Christ, what the h*** is the matter with you, you freaking psycho?!”

Male Customer: “Get the f*** off me!”

(In response, the petite woman wrenches his arm behind him further. The male customer wails.)

Male Customer: “You can’t do that! You’re just a woman!”

Petite Woman: “Army Strong, a**hole. If you want to walk away with your arm not broken, I’d stop struggling.”

(The male customer stops struggling when he realizes that she isn’t going to let go anytime soon. The police show up in less than five minutes. They get everyone’s statements and view the security video. The manager finally meanders out; he’s a man who is useless in every sense of the word. He also doesn’t like my girlfriend because she’s dating me, a girl.)

My Girlfriend’s Manager: “What is all this about?

Police Officer: “Sir, this man just attempted to attack your employee.”

My Girlfriend’s Manager: “Oh.”

Petite Woman:That’s all you have to say?” *to my girlfriend* “Honey, you want to press charges?”

My Girlfriend’s Manager: “Oh, that won’t be necessary.”

(The petite woman whirls on my girlfriend’s manager, and he actually takes a step backwards.)

Petite Woman: “I wasn’t talking to you. Believe me when I tell you, your boss will be hearing about what little concern you have for your employees!”

My Girlfriend’s Manager: *slinks off*

(Meanwhile, the police finish arresting the man and explain to my girlfriend how she can press charges.)

Me: *to the petite woman* “Excuse me, Miss?”

Petite Woman: “Yes?”

Me: “Thank you. You defended my girlfriend. So many people wouldn’t have done anything. Would it be alright if I could have your name?”

Petite Woman: *smiles* “You’re welcome. You guys look cute together. And my name is Angel.”

(With that, she leaves without buying anything. Three days later, my girlfriend’s unhelpful manager was fired. An Angel indeed!)