Don’t Let Her Walk All Over You With Those Crappy Shoes

, , , , | Right | March 22, 2019

(I am covering the shop for my mom while she has a doctor’s appointment. Her boss/friend is more than okay with that, and tells me if a customer is rude that I can give it right back to them. The shop is more of a side project so it isn’t a big deal. I am at the counter, tagging and folding some clothes that just got dropped off, when I hear the front door slam open.)

Woman: “There is a pile of dog-s*** out here and I stepped in it! My shoes are now ruined!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. Sadly, it happens quite frequently here.”

Woman: “I demand to be compensated! I can’t wear these now and they cost over $500 dollars! What are you going to do to make this right!?”

Me: “…I can sell you some shoes?”

(Cue angry screaming and door slamming closed. When I went out to lock up for the day, I saw the rather huge pile of dog poop on the ground. The woman had decided to wipe/rub her shoes against the entire front half of the shop. I told my boss. She just laughed.)

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Speaking At Volume About Selling Volume But Actually Saying Nothing

, , , , | Working | March 16, 2019

(I work in a thrift store, and we just got a new manager who has decided that she will help our store do “better” by rearranging the store and “fixing some problems.” One of these fixes involves taking away two of my shelves and two of my purse racks, claiming they were flimsy and about to fall over. She doesn’t give me any new shelves to replace them. With a reduced display, I am forced to take product off the floor and stash it in our limited space.)

Me: “[Manager], I need those shelves to display my product.”

Manager: “No, you can sell just fine with the ones you have left. I was hired to improve your numbers from month to month, and by rearranging your space, your area looks more open and like a boutique.”

Me: “But I can’t put out product as well as I could before. I’m literally selling less volume, because some things simply cannot be put out on the floor.”

Manager: “You’ll do fine. And I need you to stop being so negative about my ideas. I will improve the store’s image as well as their numbers if you’ll just stop arguing with me and go along with my plans. We will make more money!”

Me:How?!

Manager: “You’ll see…”

(I am not looking forward to next month’s numbers after trying to sell product with only two-thirds of the space to display it.)

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A Tale As Fold As Time

, , , | Right | March 12, 2019

(I am volunteering for a small thrift shop to gain work experience and get hours to graduate. This is my first time working in retail and it’s my first day. My supervisor has me folding t-shirts for the free basket. After I’ve just spent thirty minutes folding all the t-shirts and putting them neatly into the basket, two women approach me while I’m hanging scarves.)

Women #1: “Are those t-shirts free?”

Me: “Yup! Help yourself.”

(I then watch as they proceed to grab and unfold every t-shirt. They take two and leave a mess behind.)

Supervisor: *as I’m folding the shirts again* “They mess up your hard work?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Supervisor: *laughing* “Welcome to retail!”

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Doing A Disservice To Community Service

, , , | Legal | March 7, 2019

(At our thrift store, we take in people who have been court-ordered to do community service. The local court is willing to extend deadlines as long as Community Service Workers can show they’ve been making an effort. On our part, we are normally quite happy to give them a photocopy of their partially-completed hours served to show that they are, in fact, making an honest effort to get through it. Then, this woman comes in. Her stint with us is basically a battle from start to finish. She huffs and puffs and twirls her hair around her finger while telling the supervisor that she simply “doesn’t do that,” and she’s “too good to be stuck doing this.” She complains about having to sweep the floor, then pushes a broom around for three minutes before putting the broom away and claiming she did the whole store.)

Lead: “You’ve been here for four hours and you haven’t gotten a single thing done, so I’m afraid I cannot credit you for the time. I think you need to go home and think about whether doing your community service with us is right for you. There are other businesses that will help you work off your hours.”

Community Service Woman: “Whatever.”

(She leaves. The next day, the phone rings.)

Community Service Woman: “Yeah, so, I need you to send the court a completed record of my hours.”

(I get her information and find the notes.)

Me: “I’m afraid I can’t do that. You are supposed to fulfill forty hours. It says you didn’t even come in the first two days, and the third, you refused to do anything for four hours.”

Community Service Woman: “Well, I need you to send a completed copy of the form to the court, now.”

Me: “Ma’am, if you want a completed form, you have to actually do the work.”

Community Service Woman: “Well, I’m not going to do that, so what you are going to do is fill it out and sign off that I did it.”

Me: “No, I don’t think I will.”

Community Service Woman: “Listen to me very carefully. You will fill out my form, you will sign off on it, and you will send it to the court. You will do what I tell you to!”

Me: “Nope, actually, I won’t. I’m not going to lie to the courts. But I will be happy to pass you off to [Supervisor who had to deal with her before], and let you tell her what you need.”

(I put her on hold before she could say anything and gave the supervisor a summary of what she’d tried to pull with me. The supervisor answered the phone, listened, and sweetly promised to submit all the “appropriate” paperwork to the courts. She hung up and asked me to write down, as accurately as possible, my conversation with the Community Service Woman. Instead of a completed hours form, the court got a detailed report from the supervisor and me about how she tried to fudge her paperwork and bully me into lying to the court. We never saw her again, but I doubt things went well before the judge.)

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Goodwill Grass

, , , | Right | February 23, 2019

(I work as a donations attendant at a thrift store. My job is basically to accept donations from customers and to reject donations that are too damaged or that we cannot take. A lady comes in with twenty-two big black plastic bags that she says is all clothing. Since we accept all clothing, I don’t bother to rip open the bag and see what’s in it. I finish taking the bags, give her a receipt with a coupon on it, and tell her to have a good day. About an hour later I’m pushing in the cart with the twenty-two plastic bags and one falls out and rips slightly. Being curious, I decide to rip it open further and see what’s in it.)

Me: “WHAT THE F***?!”

Coworker: “What’s wrong?”

Me: “An hour ago, a lady gave me twenty-two big plastic bags that she said were full of clothes. Well, they aren’t clothes. They are all filled with GRASS CLIPPINGS!”

(My coworker about died laughing, and after throwing all the bags in the compressor I ended laughing about it, too. I don’t want to believe this lady intentionally gave me grass just to get a coupon, but HOW do you mix up your grass clippings with clothes?!)

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