The Needs Of The Good Customers Outweigh The Needs Of The Bad

, , , , , , , | Right | July 2, 2018

(I’m shopping at a well-known pharmacy that’s part of a global chain. I’m there picking up some toilet paper to bring home, something that should take five minutes. When I go up to the front to pay I notice there is only one register open, with about five people in line. At the only open register are two employees dealing with a customer holding a mountain of coupons and about fifteen items. I overhear the following conversation.)

Customer: “Well, just so you know, it is [Store]’s policy, so you two have to follow it.”

Assistant Manager: “Actually, ma’am, it is not.”

Customer: “You’re not the manager, are you?”

Assistant Manager: “No, but I’m the assistant manager, and therefore am acting manager right now, since the manager isn’t in.”

Customer: “Ah, well, that’s why you don’t understand. The manager usually will help me out and honor this deal.”

Cashier: “Ma’am, she can’t do that. The machine just beeped to inform us that this deal isn’t valid, so there’s no way we can allow it.”

Customer: “Oh, yes, you can. The manager always allows me to do this, because it’s store policy.”

Assistant Manager: “The computers are set up by our corporate office, so if they won’t allow it, then there’s a good chance it isn’t company policy.”

Customer: “Well, normally she will just override the computer and allow the transaction to go through.”

(The line has grown to ten people, and the assistant manager has been forced to open up another register to quell the line, since the original woman has not moved. The assistant manager helps an older woman with about ten items fairly quickly, and then calls for the next customer to come up. It becomes very clear, very quickly, that the older woman is the original customer’s mother, as she continues to stand around, blocking the rest of us from reaching the register, despite the cashier’s multiple attempts to get her to move. All the while the original customer is still complaining to the cashier about her deal.)

Customer: “Fine. I’ll allow you to do the transaction regularly, but only if I can bring my receipt in once the manager is back and have her fix it and give me the difference.”

Cashier: “I can’t guarantee that, but you can definitely bring it back and try.”

Customer: “Okay, then. I have several coupons for the items I still have in my cart.”

(The entire process essentially repeats itself, as it is becoming apparent that none of the “coupons” this woman has are valid. I look over her shoulder and see that the woman’s stack of “coupons” actually appears to be the smaller detachable portion of her past receipts that she has brought in, believing they will give her some sort of discount.  I’ve worked for a chain store before. Some stores have a link to a survey on the bottom of their receipts; if you take the survey, you can get a discount on your next purchase. I then realize this woman has taken her past several receipts and attempted to do this multiple times to get multiple discounts off the same purchase, which is not allowed. It clearly states, “One coupon code per visit,” on each receipt.  Finally, the woman’s mother decides to move out of the way so the rest of us can check out and go on with our days. The assistant manager completes all our transactions in record time and sends us all off with a smile.)

Assistant Manager: “I apologize for the long wait. I hope you weren’t standing here for too long.”

Me: “It’s okay; I understand.”

(Now that I’m finally at the register, I am able to confirm that the woman is indeed attempting to use multiple — I count 25 — receipt coupons on her one transaction. Knowing each receipt only takes off 5%, I can only imagine the woman is attempting to use one per item in her cart… Saving her less than $5 on her transaction. The assistant manager finishes my $5 transaction and I hand her a $20.)

Assistant Manager: “All right, and your change is $15.”

Me: “Keep it. They don’t pay you enough to deal with crazies.”

(She smiled at me and I could see a small tear in her eye. I left the store smiling, even as the crazy woman at the first register screamed obscenities at me about how she was so offended and how “her friend” the manager would be hearing about this when she came back in to get her deal. I went in about a week later and was immediately recognized by the assistant manager, who flagged me over and informed me that woman is now banned from the store for the scene she caused after I left. The best part? The manager came over and thanked me for ridding their store of the crazy lady who claimed to know HIM.)

Procedural Power Nap

, , , , | Healthy | July 2, 2018

I went in for an outpatient procedure to have a uterine ablation. They were getting me ready for the procedure, and had already given me the stuff to make me sleepy. I asked if I could use the bathroom first. I started to get sleepy and asked again to use the bathroom.

“You’re all done. We just finished the surgery.”

It was the weirdest feeling! I literally blinked and it was over!

Calamity Jane

, , , , | Right | July 2, 2018

(Most of my job is answering and directing calls to two different sides of an office. Anytime I get a call, I have to put the current person on hold to take the other line. We have one person who calls repeatedly for a secretary — whom I’ll call Jane — and won’t take no for an answer.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Office]. How can I direct your call?

Caller: “I need to speak with Jane.”

Me: “Jane isn’t in today; may I take a message for her?”

Caller: *click*

(Three minutes later, I get a call from a client that requires a much longer call, but I am forced to interrupt them to answer the other line.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Office]. How can I direct your call?”

Caller: “I need Jane.”

Me: “Jane isn’t in today. Can I take a message?”

Caller: “No. I just need to talk to Jane.”

Me: “Jane won’t be in for the rest of the week. I can give her a message and inform her you called when she’s in on Monday.”

Caller: “No.” *click*

Me: *going back to first line* “I apologize, Mr. [Caller #2]. You were telling me— Hold, please.” *going back to the second line* “Good afternoon—”

Caller: “Is Jane in?”

Me: “No, she won’t be in until Monday. If you gave me a name, I could tell her to call you instead of you needing to call up here.”

Caller: “No.” *click*

(Five minutes later.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Office]. How can I direct your call?”

Caller: “I need Jane.”

Me: “Did you call a few minutes ago?”

Caller: “Yes. I need Jane. Is Jane in?”

Me: “And you called a few minutes before that?”

Caller: “Yes. I need to talk to Jane! Now!”

Me: “Jane isn’t in until Monday.”

Caller: *click*

(Ten minutes later.)

Me: “Thank you for—”

Caller: “Is Jane in?”

Me: *recognizing the voice* “Oh… You want Jane? One moment.”

(I put him on hold and go back to the call I was in before. The person holds for maybe five minutes before calling again.)

Me: “Thank you for—”

Caller: “Yeah, I called for Jane, and you put me on hold for her. Did you hang up on me? I didn’t get through to her.”

Me: “That’s because Jane won’t be here until Monday. Call as many times as you like, but all you do is annoy me. She’s not here. She won’t magically appear. She will not be here until Monday. Please do not call again!”

Caller: “You’re so rude. All you had to say was she wasn’t there.”

On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 17

, , , , | Right | July 2, 2018

(It’s late at night and my shift ends in ten minutes. My managers have been harping on me all evening to get a credit application, so when I see this family, I think I might finally have a chance to convince them to apply. The man is middle-aged and his wife and son are looking at a new leather recliner that seats two. As I’m walking up to them, I hear the wife mention how much she likes the chair, and the man is taking pictures of her and their son sitting on it.)

Man: *to me* “Hey, come on over and join us. This chair looks awesome.”

(I cheerfully step up as he gestures for me to join the picture, thinking I really might get a credit app with this one. I crouch in front of the seat.)

Man: “No, no, no. On the seat with them.”

Son: “Dad, no. Don’t make her do anything weird.”

Me: *half-hearted chuckle* “Thank you, sir. But I prefer here. Now, if you really like this chair, I can save you…”

(I’m unable to finish as this man, three times my size — because I’m tiny — lumbers toward me, scoops me up by my underarms like a child, and proceeds to throw me into the air onto his wife and son who have to catch me. He then snaps back and starts taking pictures while his wife half laughs and half berates him. The son is apologizing and blushing like mad.)

Son: “Dad, you can’t just do that to people.”

Wife: “You shouldn’t have done that! She may have the store call the cops. You just accosted this poor girl! I am so sorry about him. Are you okay?”

(I shakily slide off the chair and nod, trying to find my bearings.)

Man: “She’s fine. We New Yorkers are like that, just having some fun. Right?”

(I force a smile at him and mutter that it’s the most interesting night since I started working at the store.)

Man: “See? She’s fine. All good.”

(He started walking away, muttering about what to look at next, and the wife and son apologized again before following him. At that point, I didn’t care anymore about credit applications. I ran to my manager, who laughed about and said there was nothing that could be done since I didn’t get hurt. I was so glad to be going home then.)

Related:
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 16
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 15
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 14

Unfiltered Story #115380

, , , | Unfiltered | July 2, 2018

(I work as a floor associate for a big name retailer, which just means that I am trained in a lot of different areas and can be placed wherever they need me. Today I am working the register. My customer is a Caucasian female in her late 30s. I am a very friendly and outgoing cashier, always taking time to make small talk and that sort of thing.)

Me: “Hi, how are you doing today?”

Customer: *gives me irritated look*

Me: *kind of just turns away in surprise, but continues to scan her items*

Customer: *all of a sudden* “It’s people like you!”

Me: *shocked* “I’m sorry, ma’am, have I done something to upset you?”

Customer: “All you Mexicans taking jobs from hard-working white people!”

(I’m biracial, half-white, half-Hispanic, but since I was adopted into a white family when I was four, I’ve always considered myself white, not to mention the fact that my skin is relatively fair.)

Me: *seething inside, but managing to keep my cool* “Ma’am, I think you’re mistaken. I was born and raised in West Texas.”

(Customer goes beet-red and attempts to stutter out an apology. At this point I’ve finished bagging her items and walking her through the payment process.)

Me: “Would you like your receipt with you or in the bag?”

Customer: *continues to apologize*

Me: “Would you like your receipt with you or in the bag?”

(The customer takes items and receipt and runs off, still red in the face.)

Next Customer: “You’re a champ, I would have slapped her right in her racist face.”

Me: *grins* “It got real close there, I promise you that!”

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