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Well, now that I'm back from my sister's wedding, I've got a few more anecdotes from my current job to share.
Courtesy? What's That?
Got assigned to one of the cigarette registers again, and was doing my usual cheerful run on it (you know, greet the customer pleasantly, carry on polite small talk, act interested in their lives and all that). This *cough*gentleman*cough* came up to the registers. I cheerfully asked him, "How are you today?" like I usually do. First thing out of his mouth in response?
"First, you can get me a pack of cigarettes."
Well, obviously, he didn't want to have a civil conversation or anything, just get his shopping done with minimal interaction with the retail slave. So I didn't attempt any further polite conversation, just kept it to the necessary business portion of the transaction.
Now this particular register happens to be the one where the pinpad (the machine that customers swipe their credit/debit cards at and sign on the screen and all) gets overheated constantly and refuses to allow the customers to sign the screen for credit purchases. Luckily, the register can still print out a physical signature slip, and I keep pens on me.
So the customer swipes his card and runs it through as credit, and I don't even wait for him to try to sign the screen; I just hit the clear key to have the register print the slip instead. I also explain the situation to the customer, who's busily attempting to get the screen to let him sign anyway and ignoring me. I repeat myself and hand him the slip and a pen.
He draws a quick little circle on the line and goes to hand it back. I explain to him that I need him to sign the slip.
SC: Well, the machine takes just a dot and goes through.
Me: Well, that may be the case, but I need you to actually sign the slip of paper.
What I Wanted to Say: Look, "Sir," I'm not some computer. What may fool the machine won't get past me. Now sign the stupid slip.
I only hope he goes through one of the other lines (with working pinpads) with a large purchase some day. Those prompt to compare the card's signature against the printed signature on the receipt, which obviously wouldn't match (unless the "gentleman" was stupid enough to put just a dot on the back of his card, too).
Cig Fit
Same register, a bit later in the day. Things had gotten a bit busy, so both cigarette registers were open at that point. This young-looking girl came through my line with an equally-young-looking guy, buying a few items. From the way they interacted, they were obviously shopping together. The girl is paying. She proceeds to ask for two packs of cigarettes.
I ask her for ID, and she complies. I then ask the guy for ID too (store policy, as many of you will know, to keep people from purchasing restricted items for minors).
The girl proceeds to throw an absolute fit at me, demanding to know why I needed the guy's ID too. I explained that it was store policy, and she goes on this rant about how the cigs are for her and the guy doesn't even have an ID because he's only 16 and is her younger brother. A customer at the other cigarette register begins telling the girl to lay off me (turns out this other customer was the girl's aunt) and backs me up, saying that I'm just doing my job. I think that was the only thing keeping me from asking one of the CSMs for my break early.
(I had a similar scenario at the supercenter I used to work at, with a group of four girls and a bunch of beer, and two of the girls being underage. The purchaser of the beer threw a fit when I wouldn't sell the booze to her, despite her claims that it wasn't for her friends. Sorry, chica. I'm not getting my butt fired just because you had to make booze-buying a social event.)
One-At-A-Time and Price Check!
Had a couple of annoying ones the other day within two hours of each other. The first was one of those customers who comes up with a cart of about 20 items or so (most small) and proceeds to hand them to you one at a time while waiting to make sure they all ring up the right price. Seriously. She'd hand me an item straight out of the cart (I have this conveyer belt for a reason, Lady), then stare expectantly at the register screen until it rang up, give a little nod, and then hand me the next item. Good thing for her I'm not working there long enough to really worry about my IPH.
The other was a similar case, a much older lady, except that she actually unloaded everything onto the belt first. But she stopped me before I could start scanning, asking for a price check. On everything. She just had to make sure that each item was what she thought it was before buying it, which slowed things down immensely because the register doesn't actually ring up price-checked items (so they need to be scanned twice). She had one multipack of paper towels that I price checked for her, and she followed those with the question, "Are these your brand?"
Me: Excuse me?
Old Lady (OL): Are these your brand?
Me: You mean the store brand?
OL: Yes, the store brand.
Me: *looks over the package, checking the manufacturer on the back* Yes, it is.
OL: It is? Are you sure?
Me: See here, where it says Wal-Mart? It's our store brand.
OL: Oh, ok. Then yes, I want it.
Ooookaaay.... Then I get to a multipack of toilet paper. Same spiel. I price check, and then she asks, "And is this your brand?" I check the back and point out that no, it's made/distributed by someone else and is therefore a name brand. What does she say? Does she refuse because it's not store brand? Nope. She says instead, "Ok, I'll take it."
Once all the price-checking was done and the total read, she was having trouble getting her credit card to read. Kept sliding it halfway down, then back up, then frantically back and forth for a bit, causing a read error. I finally had to take the card and swipe it at my own card reader just to get her rung out. Then the lady couldn't understand why I wanted her to sign on the digital screen, and after I handed her the receipt she couldn't understand why she hadn't signed a slip for the credit card. ::sigh:: Just one of those transactions that eventually grates my nerves to paper-thinness.
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Don't even get me started on all the people who can't figure out why the self-checkouts complain when they drop their two-ton purses onto the bagging scales, or let Junior sit/climb all over it, or who ring up a ton of small things but toss them into a bag they're holding instead of onto the bagging scale.
What's funny, though, is so far I've had to refuse two restricted item sales due to underage customers. No, not for cigarettes or beer (our store doesn't even sell alcohol), or even mature movies and games. The first was for white-out (the girl was three weeks shy of 18 but shopping alone on behalf of her mom for school stuff; at least she was good-natured about it and laughed). The second was for canned air, the stuff you use to clean out the insides of electronics, especially computers (that customer was about two months shy of 18, and looked annoyed but seemed to understand that it was company policy). But at least I've gotten some smiles and been able to cheer up some older customers when I jokingly ask them if they're old enough to buy spray paint and fuel injector and rubber cement and superglue.
Courtesy? What's That?
Got assigned to one of the cigarette registers again, and was doing my usual cheerful run on it (you know, greet the customer pleasantly, carry on polite small talk, act interested in their lives and all that). This *cough*gentleman*cough* came up to the registers. I cheerfully asked him, "How are you today?" like I usually do. First thing out of his mouth in response?
"First, you can get me a pack of cigarettes."
Well, obviously, he didn't want to have a civil conversation or anything, just get his shopping done with minimal interaction with the retail slave. So I didn't attempt any further polite conversation, just kept it to the necessary business portion of the transaction.
Now this particular register happens to be the one where the pinpad (the machine that customers swipe their credit/debit cards at and sign on the screen and all) gets overheated constantly and refuses to allow the customers to sign the screen for credit purchases. Luckily, the register can still print out a physical signature slip, and I keep pens on me.
So the customer swipes his card and runs it through as credit, and I don't even wait for him to try to sign the screen; I just hit the clear key to have the register print the slip instead. I also explain the situation to the customer, who's busily attempting to get the screen to let him sign anyway and ignoring me. I repeat myself and hand him the slip and a pen.
He draws a quick little circle on the line and goes to hand it back. I explain to him that I need him to sign the slip.
SC: Well, the machine takes just a dot and goes through.
Me: Well, that may be the case, but I need you to actually sign the slip of paper.
What I Wanted to Say: Look, "Sir," I'm not some computer. What may fool the machine won't get past me. Now sign the stupid slip.
I only hope he goes through one of the other lines (with working pinpads) with a large purchase some day. Those prompt to compare the card's signature against the printed signature on the receipt, which obviously wouldn't match (unless the "gentleman" was stupid enough to put just a dot on the back of his card, too).
Cig Fit
Same register, a bit later in the day. Things had gotten a bit busy, so both cigarette registers were open at that point. This young-looking girl came through my line with an equally-young-looking guy, buying a few items. From the way they interacted, they were obviously shopping together. The girl is paying. She proceeds to ask for two packs of cigarettes.
I ask her for ID, and she complies. I then ask the guy for ID too (store policy, as many of you will know, to keep people from purchasing restricted items for minors).
The girl proceeds to throw an absolute fit at me, demanding to know why I needed the guy's ID too. I explained that it was store policy, and she goes on this rant about how the cigs are for her and the guy doesn't even have an ID because he's only 16 and is her younger brother. A customer at the other cigarette register begins telling the girl to lay off me (turns out this other customer was the girl's aunt) and backs me up, saying that I'm just doing my job. I think that was the only thing keeping me from asking one of the CSMs for my break early.
(I had a similar scenario at the supercenter I used to work at, with a group of four girls and a bunch of beer, and two of the girls being underage. The purchaser of the beer threw a fit when I wouldn't sell the booze to her, despite her claims that it wasn't for her friends. Sorry, chica. I'm not getting my butt fired just because you had to make booze-buying a social event.)
One-At-A-Time and Price Check!
Had a couple of annoying ones the other day within two hours of each other. The first was one of those customers who comes up with a cart of about 20 items or so (most small) and proceeds to hand them to you one at a time while waiting to make sure they all ring up the right price. Seriously. She'd hand me an item straight out of the cart (I have this conveyer belt for a reason, Lady), then stare expectantly at the register screen until it rang up, give a little nod, and then hand me the next item. Good thing for her I'm not working there long enough to really worry about my IPH.
The other was a similar case, a much older lady, except that she actually unloaded everything onto the belt first. But she stopped me before I could start scanning, asking for a price check. On everything. She just had to make sure that each item was what she thought it was before buying it, which slowed things down immensely because the register doesn't actually ring up price-checked items (so they need to be scanned twice). She had one multipack of paper towels that I price checked for her, and she followed those with the question, "Are these your brand?"
Me: Excuse me?
Old Lady (OL): Are these your brand?
Me: You mean the store brand?
OL: Yes, the store brand.
Me: *looks over the package, checking the manufacturer on the back* Yes, it is.
OL: It is? Are you sure?
Me: See here, where it says Wal-Mart? It's our store brand.
OL: Oh, ok. Then yes, I want it.
Ooookaaay.... Then I get to a multipack of toilet paper. Same spiel. I price check, and then she asks, "And is this your brand?" I check the back and point out that no, it's made/distributed by someone else and is therefore a name brand. What does she say? Does she refuse because it's not store brand? Nope. She says instead, "Ok, I'll take it."
Once all the price-checking was done and the total read, she was having trouble getting her credit card to read. Kept sliding it halfway down, then back up, then frantically back and forth for a bit, causing a read error. I finally had to take the card and swipe it at my own card reader just to get her rung out. Then the lady couldn't understand why I wanted her to sign on the digital screen, and after I handed her the receipt she couldn't understand why she hadn't signed a slip for the credit card. ::sigh:: Just one of those transactions that eventually grates my nerves to paper-thinness.
---
Don't even get me started on all the people who can't figure out why the self-checkouts complain when they drop their two-ton purses onto the bagging scales, or let Junior sit/climb all over it, or who ring up a ton of small things but toss them into a bag they're holding instead of onto the bagging scale.
What's funny, though, is so far I've had to refuse two restricted item sales due to underage customers. No, not for cigarettes or beer (our store doesn't even sell alcohol), or even mature movies and games. The first was for white-out (the girl was three weeks shy of 18 but shopping alone on behalf of her mom for school stuff; at least she was good-natured about it and laughed). The second was for canned air, the stuff you use to clean out the insides of electronics, especially computers (that customer was about two months shy of 18, and looked annoyed but seemed to understand that it was company policy). But at least I've gotten some smiles and been able to cheer up some older customers when I jokingly ask them if they're old enough to buy spray paint and fuel injector and rubber cement and superglue.
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