Tales From 4476

So, last night, I had my first ever encounter with a high customer. This lady had come in around midnight, and apparently shopped for nearly 4 hours. I was the only cashier scheduled (which naturally occurred because the regional VP is supposed to visit today), and my CSM (customer service manager) was on his lunch break. At 3:50 a.m., she decides she's ready to check out. At this time, I'm bust running what little freight we receive up front (batteries, lighters, candy, etc.). I see her approaching my register with her cart full of what looks like something from every department. About 80% of her cart was clothes, which made me cry inwardly because I hate ringing up clothing. So she plunks everything on the belt and tells me to let her know when the total reaches $100. I rang up her stuff, and alerted her that her total had reached $98.84. She went on babbling about asking me if I could do a credit charge with her driver's license, because she didn't have her credit card with her, claiming that Burger King had done it. It was at this time that I knew she was stoned out of her mind. I said, "No, but if you have the account number, expiration date, and security code written down somewhere, I can do it manually." She said she'd have to go to her car to get this information. So she left, and I waited for about 5 minutes before going outside to check the parking lot for her, and I didn't see her. This bitch straight up left a cart full of crap (including milk) behind and never came back. At first I was pretty pissed, because I knew I was going to have to put all that shit back, but luckily my CSM told me not to worry about it.


A few nights ago, I had the joy of dealing with a man who really fucking needed his batteries like OMG right now. Now, it's important that you know that, being a 24-hour store, the system that the registers operate on has to reset for the next days' sales at midnight. We can't begin ringing up until 12:01. Also, we have to reset the cash drawer, which basically involves putting the new bills and coins in there appropriate place. The process takes about 2 minutes. I was on register 5, and my co-worker was on 6. This dude started off in line at 6, with 4-5 other folks ahead of him. I had come back from my break and opened 5, and this dude rushed over to my line, where I then informed him of the fact that he'd have to wait a minute while the system reset itself. He huffed a sigh, then ran back over to 6. I was like, "Seriously, going to another line isn't gonna solve your problem." Our CSM sent my co-worker on her break, so she closed her register and left. Battery Dude runs back over to my line and says "You're determined to make me wait the whole 5 minutes, aren't you?" all distressed like. Dude it's midnight. What the hell could you possibly need your 9 volt batteries so bad for? Wait, maybe I don't want to know.

What I wanted to say: Yes sir, I quite enjoy watching you squirm in line like you're about to piss yourself. It's a vast conspiracy set forth by Home Office, and we associates gladly participate in such activities.

What I actually said: Sir, it was only going to take a minute.

And so I rang him up without further fanfare, fighting the urge to go off on him for getting an attitude with me for basically no reason whatsoever (also I was grumpy as this was my 6th night in a row working). After I cashed him out, he took his precious batteries and ran off, hopefully he heard my oh-so-sarcastic "Have a good night, SIR."


Dear Two Redneck Teenagers In Line: I do not care why you're guying condoms. I did not assume that you were a gay couple, nor would I care if you were. No, I am more concerned as why, along with your condoms, you are also buying duct tape. That is what concerns me.

Never A Dull Moment

So I finally went and bought my new TV that I'd been saving my tax return for. Of course I purchased it from my store, mainly because that was the best deal I could find, and also, associate discount. Anyway. I found my TV and Jack, the electronics associate, rang me up. Now, the Assistant Manager in the department, who had just finished her overnight rotation in February, was hovering about and the following conversation occurred.


Manager: Did you tell her about this TV?
Jack: Why do I need to do that? She works here.
Manager: Well she hasn't worked electronics in some time...
Me and Jack: *WTF face*


Because all knowledge I ever had about the department and our products just flew out the window when the job code did. Yes. That makes sense. Why then, does everyone on my shift holler for ME when there's a customer needing assistance?! According to this logic, I have completely forgotten how to stock now that I'm a cashier.


Also, Virginia state law disallows the sale of alcohol by retail establishments between midnight and 6 a.m. The system literally will not allow us to ring up an alcohol purchase. There is nothing I can do about this. There isn't an "Unless It's Your Birthday" clause. It has nothing to do with me, this store, or the company. It's STATE LAW.


And please remember these things the next time you feel like antagonizing the poor cashier who works for slightly more than minimum wage:

Musings

Thank you, Blogger, for not alerting me to your new format. At least Facepage tells you when it's going to turn your shit upside down and/or sideways!
I digress.

Leroy went in for his annual state inspection earlier this week. He passed as usual, but he's beginning to show his age. The bulb behind the tachometer is burned out, which will cost $100 to replace, he'll need all new tires next year, and the clear coat on his tail gate is beginning to bubble up in some places. Allow me to brag a moment: Nearly 10 year old Toyota, 80,100-something miles, and only cosmetic issues. Like I said, I will drive him til the engine falls out; he'll probably last that long too.

I do wish customers would realize that the answer "Yes, except for the free stuff/big pile of money" is not acceptable when asked if they found everything ok. It's not funny. It never was. It does not make you clever. It makes me go >:|. Please stop it.

Also, if you're on WIC, you should be familiar with the process involved to conduct the transaction. I have a procedure that I must follow in order to process your WIC check. I know it's tedious and takes longer than everyone would like, but it can't be helped. You have no right to complain about how long it takes to process the transaction.

I wish I knew why cats seem unable to walk in a straight line. Every time I leave the kitchen on my way to my room, here comes Piggy walking diagonally along the hallway into my room. He goes from right to left, and always manages to intersect my path at some point. This is especially unnerving when I have my coffee in my hand. One day, I will trip over him and end up in the hospital because I've broken something.






And I got a little creative the other night. I should show this to the customers who exhibit the above behavior(s).

Tales From 4476

Story time! :D

OK so, last night I was working in the cereal and snacks section. Around 4:30 a.m., this family comes down the cereal aisle and is presumably debating on which cereal to buy. They have a small child with them, who is probably like, 3 or something. So family is debating, and their kid is just...staring at me. I'm sitting on a milk crate stocking the bottom shelf with Great Value Corn Flakes, and she's standing like 2 feet away from me, staring at me like I have 3 heads, which is a surprisingly common occurrence when I encounter children. She keeps asking her mom "Who is that?" until her mother finally says "I don't know honey we don't talk to strangers." And they leave. I couldn't help but stop what I was doing, look at the ceiling, and say "FFS I work at Walmart, not out of a white, windowless van with 'Free Candy' written on it!" Not that I was offended but come on! By the way, if you sit and stare at me, I won't speak to you regardless because you're creeping me out and it makes me very uncomfortable.


And now I'd like to make a public service announcement: When we are on break, we are customers too. During this past week, our manager told us of this one lady who called up the store to complain about us. She claimed we were rude and unhelpful to her (which manager didn't believe at all), and had the nerve to complain that we didn't let her cut in front of us at the register. Excuse me. We are on our break. We get 15 minutes. When I am standing in this check out line with my bottle of Gatorade and perhaps a 3 Musketeers, I am a customer just as you are. My navy T-shirt does NOT give you the right to cut the line, treat me like dirt, or act like I am your servant. My badge says "Jenny" NOT "peon." Now get your snotty, entitled ass in the BACK OF THE LINE and wait like everybody else.