Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered

Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 18

, , , | Right Working | July 1, 2022

I am a receptionist, sitting at a desk in the middle of a big open area about twenty-five feet back from double doors and about twenty-five feet from the cashier lines. I answer several hundred phone calls a day, plus directing customers who came to my desk who needed help.

Customers would also come to me wanting to check out the items that they wanted to buy. The only thing I could do was point towards the cashier line which were obviously in use which is why these people thought they could get me to ring them up. The only thing I had in front of me was a two-way walkie-talkie, computer, and telephone.

After eighteen months of over and over directing the stupid people to the cashier lines, I finally had had enough. A young fellow came up to me with his hands full of items he wanted to buy wanting me to check him out. I finally said what I had wanted to say for a long time:

Me: “Sir, no offense, but do I look like I have a cash register in front of me?”

Of course, about fifteen minutes later my supervisor came up to me.

Supervisor: “Did you really say that to that customer?”

Me: “Yes, I did. I’ve been wanting to say it for eighteen months.”

Supervisor: *Looking at me in desperation.* “Well, that customer called and complained.”

Me: “I figured he would but look at it this way: I have had enough of this. Just because the cashier lines get two or three customers at each register does not mean that everyone should come up to me and insist that I cashier them out when I don’t even have a cash drawer.”

I did promise him however that I would not do it again for at least six months. Eight months later I gave my three-week notice.

Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 17
Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 16
Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 15
Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 14
Lack Of Register Does Not Register, Part 13

Not Taking The Bait

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: angler_zuba | June 30, 2022

I work in a fishing store. In walks one of my regular customers and a new guy, an older guy in his sixties. As is customary here in Poland, I greet them with a “good morning”. It’s rude not to reply or acknowledge a greeting, so my regular says hello. The old dude, however, does not. But I give it no mind.

My regular gets some gear (around $140 worth) and gets to paying. The old dude lines up behind him and waits.

Regular: “D***, I’m supposed to go shopping for groceries and I only have $160 on me.”

He starts to put back some items, so I stop him.

Me: “It’s fine. I’ll give you twenty bucks off since you buy here weekly.”

He leaves happy with enough cash left for groceries.

Seeing that, the old dude grabs some more stuff and comes back to get checked out.

Old Dude: “All right, that’s all. I grabbed some more stuff because I saw you were selling at a discounted price, so what’s my discount gonna be?”

I look at his total and it comes out to about $60.

Me: “Sir, I can’t really give you a discount since we usually give discounts with purchases equal to or above $100. But I’ll tell you what; I’ll give you fifty percent off the most expensive item in your bag—” *a fifty-dollar item* “—but if you promise to come back soon!

I say this jokingly with a big smile that quickly fades.

Old Dude: “Who the f*** do you think you are?! What kind of business do you think you’re running? You think you can just pick and choose a discount to give people? If you’re giving me a discount, it should be for all the items I have! Give me a better deal or I’m never coming back here!”

I’m so in shock that I have to take a few seconds to process what just happened. He doesn’t give me the chance to reply before he takes his arm and swipes everything to the ground.

Old Dude: “F*** this s***! I ain’t buying it anymore!”

That causes the two-kg bag of two-mm carp bait pellets (the item he would’ve gotten a discount on) to burst and spill little pellets all over the store’s floor and a bottle of bait booster (liquid attractant) to spill on the floor and make the whole shop smell like bloodworms (stinky).

Me: “Sir, you have to buy that.”

He gives me a stern “f*** no” and slaps the counter for some reason.

I then tell him that I have cameras, and if he won’t pay, I will be forced to call the police. I also add that we have cameras in the parking lot so I will know his plate numbers.

Suddenly, he has a magical change of heart,

Old Dude: “All right, fine, I’ll pay. So, that’s fifty percent off… making the pellets $25 and the booster $5—”

I cut him off.

Me: “No, that’s $50 for the pellets and $10 for the booster.”

Old Dude: “Wait, what?! Where’s my fifty percent off?! Don’t be a f****** brat about it!”

Me: “That fifty percent was only for the pellets, and your discount left as soon as your manners did. That will be $60 total.”

Old Dude: “D***, come on, kid! Don’t be a d**k. I’m sorry. Please give me a better price, and don’t be a b**** about it. Please, please, man! Do me a favor!”

After hearing that sorry excuse for an apology:

Me: “Nah, $60 or it’s the cops.”

The dude ended up paying after ten more minutes of pleading and calling me a d**k, and he left. The best part is that he still comes back in shame because we have the best prices in town.

You Need A (Wind)Shield From The Latecomers

, , , | Right | June 30, 2022

I was working as a cashier at a large retail store that sells car parts. Ten minutes after close, once the doors were locked and we were all closing out our tills, a man came up and banged on the doors. A manager went to the door to meet him.

Customer: “I need to get windshield wipers!”

Manager: “We’re closed, sir. We open again at 8 am tomorrow.”

Customer: “But I need windshield wipers!”

Manager: “I’m sorry, sir, the tills are closed. You will have to come back tomorrow.”

The man leaves, clearly frustrated.

Cashier: “I don’t know why this is such an emergency. There’s no rain forecast before next week.”

Apple Comes Right Back Around To The Tree

, , , , , , , | Related | June 30, 2022

My mom worked for a big retail company. At the time, you could get a few cents off per gallon of gas if you paid with a store gift card.

One year, just before Mother’s Day, my brother went into the store to buy a gift card for gas and stopped to talk to my mom. She very blatantly steered him toward a flower display and said how nice it would be to get a bouquet for Mother’s Day.

Brother: “Mom, will you buy my gas?”

Mom: *Jokingly* “You have a job; buy your own d*** gas!”

My brother laughed and went on his way to purchase his gift card and fill up his car. 

On Mother’s Day, Mom opened her card from him to find a [Store] gift card for $10 on which he had written, “Happy Mother’s Day. Buy your own d*** flowers.”

Well, They Sure Aren’t Getting Any More Sales From Them!

, , , , , , | Working | June 29, 2022

Both of my wife’s parents recently died, within two months of each other (one from illness and one from an accident some weeks later). As a result, we have been left sorting through their affairs and gradually sifting through their personal effects.

One task that recently fell to me was to collect a vast pile of catalogues and other communications that have been mailed to them since their passing from companies to which my mother-in-law (and a lesser extent father-in-law) subscribed. There is a surprising number; they lived fully and healthily and had made the most of their comfortable and affluent retirement. The request in all cases was simply to remove their details from their records and stop sending their magazines and catalogues.

The expected response from these companies, on being told the news of my mother-in-law’s passing, would be to reply with a sympathetic message and a promise to remove her details as requested.

However, there were also responses along the lines:

Catalogue Company: “So that we can remove their details from our systems, please send us a copy of the death certificate.”

I passed this message on to my wife, who is handling all the official paperwork, and her response was:

Wife: “They can f*** off!”

Seriously? It’s a stupid catalogue, not a military service record!

But, fair enough, if you WANT to carry on sending us copies of your catalogue, which will go directly into the recycling, then please feel free so to do. It’s no skin off our nose, but if you want to waste the money mailing this great big lump of dead tree to an address that no longer has anyone living there, go fill your boots.

For reference, please remember: this is Britain. We don’t do bureaucracy and top-heavy administration the way certain nations seem to. Apologies to you if it seems natural to have to send a death certificate to a company with whom occasional retail operations have been transacted, but to my wife and me, this comes across as distasteful.