The 100-Foot Journey Is Too Much For Some

, , , , , , , | Right | March 27, 2020

(I’m the operations manager at a department store. In an effort to cut costs, we’ve been directed to remove our registers from some outlying departments. Since I’m one of the more technologically proficient people in my store, I’m unplugging things and getting them sorted out onto carts to be moved to the stockroom where they’ll be fully wiped of information before they’re sent back to a central hub. Thus far, I’ve detached the card readers and screens from both registers, they’re already on a cart behind me, and all the cash has been removed from the tills. A well-dressed, uppity-looking woman sets two boxes of shoes down in front of me.)

Me: “Good morning! If you’d like to purchase these they’ll be able to—”

Customer: “Of course I want to purchase them.”

Me: “Great. As I was saying, they’ll be able to help you in the jewelry department right over there.”

Customer: “Why would I walk all the way over there?”

(The jewelry department is perhaps 100 feet away, towards the entrance to the mall where I presume the woman came in. Our only other entrance is in the tool department, quite a bit further away.)

Me: “Well, if you came in by the tools, they’ll be able to check you out over there, as well.”

Customer: “Do I look like I came in by the tools? Ring me up for the shoes now. I hate waiting like this; it’s stupid.”

(I look down in front of me at the wires I’m clearly detaching from the CPU of the register and then back at the cart behind me that’s got the screens and card readers on it. I turn back to the customer.)

Me: “If it’s not incredibly obvious, these registers aren’t functional right now. You’ll need to go to a department with a functioning register to check out; there are people ready to take care of you at either entrance.”

Customer: “Well, if they aren’t functioning, fix them.”

(It’s been a long day already and I’m apparently over her.)

Me: “I’m sorry? I’m not going to reassemble a register, get a cash drawer for it, and reboot the whole thing so that you’re able to cash out here. Jewelry or tools, please.”

Customer: “I can wait here all day; you will serve me.”

Me: “I encourage you to hold your breath.”

(I worked there for four more years. I noticed that woman shopping several other times, and I never helped her. Serve yourself, you entitled witch.)

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