These Shoes Were Made For Walking… Away From This Argument
I used to be a front-end manager for a large store in my early 20s. Our store has a dress code: certain shades of blue polos, a few light shades of pants, and closed-toed shoes. The store provides a blue vest to wear over our polos, but the rest is up to us to provide. One of the cashiers, a man in his 40s, walked away from his register and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see him holding one of his shoes.
Me: “Hey, what’s up?”
Cashier: “My shoe is falling apart.”
Me: “The sole is coming apart, yeah, I see.”
Cashier: “So…?”
Me: “You can buy a new pair on your break or maybe buy some glue to hold it together for a little while longer?”
Cashier: *Sighs* “Fine.”
He goes back to his register with an exaggerated limp because he’s still only wearing one shoe. His break comes around, and he comes back to me holding a box with new shoes – probably the most expensive ones our store sells.
Me: “Found what you want?”
Cashier: “Yeah.”
Me: “Okay, I’ll check you out at customer service.”
Cashier: “Why?”
Me: “Well, you need to clock back in soon.”
Cashier: “No, I mean, why check me out? You said I could get a new pair.”
Me: “Yeah, I said you could buy a new pair.”
Cashier: *Laughs.* “I’m not paying for new shoes. This is a [Store] issue.”
Me: “No, it’s not.”
Cashier: “So you expect me to use my hard-earned money to buy shoes to work here?”
Me: “I—”
Cashier: *Louder.* “Why does [Store] not care if their employees have proper footwear?”
Me: “I see what you’re doing. Just stop.”
Cashier: “Why would I pay for new shoes when [Store] can just write them off?”
Me: “You wanna talk to the store manager? If he says yes, then he can do it, but I do not have the authority.”
Cashier: “Oh my f****** Christ. Fine!”
He throws the box on the register and walks away. A few minutes later, he returns with a small tube of super glue.
Cashier: “Ring me up.”
Me: “No problem.”
Cashier: “I can’t believe [Store] makes millions of dollars in profits every year, but they can’t provide basic footwear for their employees. F****** insane.”
Me: “Here is your receipt. You can hop on register eight.”
Cashier: “Wow… zero compassion. You are a corporate cuck.”
I reported him to upper management, who talked to him. He told them that I said the store would cover his shoes, and then changed my mind when I saw what he had picked, laughed, and called him poor.
I make a whopping fifteen cents an hour more than the cashiers, so I am not rolling in money either. Upper management ultimately dismissed the entire issue and told me to just try to be nicer to [Cashier] in the future.
