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Time for another update, plus one pulled from memory.
Can't You Hear Me?
I had to work yesterday (Labor Day), though mercifully I was given a shorter shift (meant I got to go home earlier). One lady came through my line and was the epitome of Mumbler. She didn't open her mouth much or really enunciate her words, and spoke below the dull roar that was the overly busy front end. Usually when people do this, they have the sense to at least face me, and when I ask them to repeat themselves, they raise their volume reasonably and don't take offense. Not this lady.
Lady: Mumblemumble
Me: Excuse me?
Lady: (shouting) I said, do you have a pen I can borrow? (brandishing a checkbook)
Me: Oh, sure.
I ring up the rest of her purchase and tell her the total.
Lady: Mumblemumble
Me: Excuse me? (leaning close)
Lady: (shouting and glaring) I said, do you need to see my ID?
Me: Please. (runs check through the register)
Lady: Mumblemumble
Me: (sigh) Excuse me?
Lady: (glare, doesn't repeat herself, takes her receipt and leaves)
Bagging Busybody
Another lady came through who started off the transaction by asking me to just hand the items to her so she could bag them, because she wanted certain things together. I explained that it's generally easier if I just bag them (I like to think I do a good job of not putting meat with ice cream or on top of bread). I restrained myself from telling her that she should sort it by bag on the belt if she wants to be that specific. The lady then stood almost in my space (within reach of the till and the register keys, a major peeve of mine), telling me what to bag with what, which I did. Despite this, she rebagged everything herself the way she wanted it, which wasn't apparently the way she told me to bag it. ::sigh::
This ties in with the customers who yank the bagging carousel around (nearly taking my hands off at the wrist while I'm bagging) so they can either rebag stuff or collect their items (without paying attention to the fact that I haven't finished filling the bag yet).
Another customer rebagged her chips because they were on top of her eggs and might (heaven forbid!) squish the egg carton. I might add that these were chips in a bag, not in a can (like Pringles or Stax).
General Pet Peeves
- The customers who reach for or even grab for their change while I'm still in the process of counting it to myself to make sure I grabbed the right amount (nevermind when I'm counting it back to them, which I always make sure to do).
- The customers who don't seem to notice the convenient check-signing counter right next to the pinpad and are determined to use the belt instead, despite the fact that it's moving underneath them and bringing up the next customer's purchase already. These customers like to write out whole checks there (hogging the space), or count out their cash to me, or sort through the contents of their purses, or whatever. At least no one's tried changing a baby's diaper there, yet.
- The customers who seem to think that the belt, despite moving and stopping several times during the previous transaction, will keep moving and carry their stuff across the scanner if they don't drag it back. None of them notice, either, that when the merchandise reaches a certain point the belt stops (because the merch blocks the sensor beam), and keep dragging it back and look surprised that the belt moves again. It's less annoying when it's young children doing this, more when it's 30-something mothers.
- The customers who can't seem to follow simple instructions displayed on the self-checkout screens. This seems to happen most with gift cards (as tender) and security device deactivation. With Wal-Mart gift cards, they need to be swiped at the pinpad, then the barcode needs to be scanned just like merchandise. So many customers stand there and stare at the screen showing exactly how to scan the gift card, scratching their heads, before calling me over for help. With the security tags, the screen clearly shows the device being run over the star symbol on the scanner, then placed in the bag, and the words and voice-over reiterate this message. Fully half the self-checkout customers with security devices stare at it blankly and try scanning the next item, despite the large OK button blinking on the screen.
The worst was one lady who called me over for the security deactivation screen and complained.
Lady: It's not letting me scan my pencils.
Me: That's because you need to touch your camera film to the star and press the OK button first, Ma'am, like the screen says.
Lady: (snottily) Well, I didn't know that.
Me, Thinking: Well, you would if you bothered to actually read the screen like any sensible person would.
Mr. Temper
And now for one from the memory archives. This hails back to my first summer cashiering for the supercenter in my parents' hometown, while I was still single and a college student. I had been put on the express lane one evening, before the register remodel. This means that the express lane had an actual moving belt (rather than the short counter), and the two-rack bagging area rather than the three-to-six-rack bagging carousels many Wal-Marts now have. The belt was even full-size, which didn't help to dissuade the people with large orders from coming through despite the "20 Items or Less" signs prominently placed.
This particular night, the belt was malfunctioning. The switch wouldn't work to get the belt to move, even if I held it in the "always on" position. Occasionally, as I had discovered, I could get the belt to move (when in sensor mode) if I gave a sound thump to the side of the belt's casing. After a while, though, this percussive matinence ceased working, and I simply had to ask customers to move their items manually when they left them at the far end of the belt. Most were perfectly happy to help out, especially when I explained the situation.
Emphasis on "most."
This older gentleman (Mr. Temper) came up to my line (why is it always the old people?) with a handful of items (eggs, bread, milk, a few cans) and set them at the very far end of the belt while I rang up the customer in front of him. At the end of the transaction, Mr. Temper walked up with a light air of self-importance to the pinpad counter with his card already out and ready to swipe. I politely explained the situation to him, as he had left his items at the far end of the belt, beyond the reach of my arm, and asked him nicely if he would move the items closer so I could scan them.
He grunted, glared, and stomped back to the end of the belt. He placed his whole forearm behind his pile of things and shoved them towards the scanner. They got about halfway before the bread fell to the floor, the milk toppled sideways (thankfully it didn't spring a leak), and three cans rolled across the scanner (one even ringing up). He then stomped back to the pinpad and continued glaring in silence.
I sighed and rang up more of his items. I had to stop at one point (though I don't recall why), whether it was to ID the gentleman for an age-restricted item or to call a CSM because a barcode was missing. The man--obviously annoyed at this point, though the only thing I'd done was ask him if he could move his items for me due to a broken belt--suddenly growled, "This is bull****," and stormed out of the store. Just like that.
I had to wait for the CSM anyway, so they could take the temperature-sensitive items back into the store to keep them from spoiling.
Can't You Hear Me?
I had to work yesterday (Labor Day), though mercifully I was given a shorter shift (meant I got to go home earlier). One lady came through my line and was the epitome of Mumbler. She didn't open her mouth much or really enunciate her words, and spoke below the dull roar that was the overly busy front end. Usually when people do this, they have the sense to at least face me, and when I ask them to repeat themselves, they raise their volume reasonably and don't take offense. Not this lady.
Lady: Mumblemumble
Me: Excuse me?
Lady: (shouting) I said, do you have a pen I can borrow? (brandishing a checkbook)
Me: Oh, sure.
I ring up the rest of her purchase and tell her the total.
Lady: Mumblemumble
Me: Excuse me? (leaning close)
Lady: (shouting and glaring) I said, do you need to see my ID?
Me: Please. (runs check through the register)
Lady: Mumblemumble
Me: (sigh) Excuse me?
Lady: (glare, doesn't repeat herself, takes her receipt and leaves)
Bagging Busybody
Another lady came through who started off the transaction by asking me to just hand the items to her so she could bag them, because she wanted certain things together. I explained that it's generally easier if I just bag them (I like to think I do a good job of not putting meat with ice cream or on top of bread). I restrained myself from telling her that she should sort it by bag on the belt if she wants to be that specific. The lady then stood almost in my space (within reach of the till and the register keys, a major peeve of mine), telling me what to bag with what, which I did. Despite this, she rebagged everything herself the way she wanted it, which wasn't apparently the way she told me to bag it. ::sigh::
This ties in with the customers who yank the bagging carousel around (nearly taking my hands off at the wrist while I'm bagging) so they can either rebag stuff or collect their items (without paying attention to the fact that I haven't finished filling the bag yet).
Another customer rebagged her chips because they were on top of her eggs and might (heaven forbid!) squish the egg carton. I might add that these were chips in a bag, not in a can (like Pringles or Stax).
General Pet Peeves
- The customers who reach for or even grab for their change while I'm still in the process of counting it to myself to make sure I grabbed the right amount (nevermind when I'm counting it back to them, which I always make sure to do).
- The customers who don't seem to notice the convenient check-signing counter right next to the pinpad and are determined to use the belt instead, despite the fact that it's moving underneath them and bringing up the next customer's purchase already. These customers like to write out whole checks there (hogging the space), or count out their cash to me, or sort through the contents of their purses, or whatever. At least no one's tried changing a baby's diaper there, yet.
- The customers who seem to think that the belt, despite moving and stopping several times during the previous transaction, will keep moving and carry their stuff across the scanner if they don't drag it back. None of them notice, either, that when the merchandise reaches a certain point the belt stops (because the merch blocks the sensor beam), and keep dragging it back and look surprised that the belt moves again. It's less annoying when it's young children doing this, more when it's 30-something mothers.
- The customers who can't seem to follow simple instructions displayed on the self-checkout screens. This seems to happen most with gift cards (as tender) and security device deactivation. With Wal-Mart gift cards, they need to be swiped at the pinpad, then the barcode needs to be scanned just like merchandise. So many customers stand there and stare at the screen showing exactly how to scan the gift card, scratching their heads, before calling me over for help. With the security tags, the screen clearly shows the device being run over the star symbol on the scanner, then placed in the bag, and the words and voice-over reiterate this message. Fully half the self-checkout customers with security devices stare at it blankly and try scanning the next item, despite the large OK button blinking on the screen.
The worst was one lady who called me over for the security deactivation screen and complained.
Lady: It's not letting me scan my pencils.
Me: That's because you need to touch your camera film to the star and press the OK button first, Ma'am, like the screen says.
Lady: (snottily) Well, I didn't know that.
Me, Thinking: Well, you would if you bothered to actually read the screen like any sensible person would.
Mr. Temper
And now for one from the memory archives. This hails back to my first summer cashiering for the supercenter in my parents' hometown, while I was still single and a college student. I had been put on the express lane one evening, before the register remodel. This means that the express lane had an actual moving belt (rather than the short counter), and the two-rack bagging area rather than the three-to-six-rack bagging carousels many Wal-Marts now have. The belt was even full-size, which didn't help to dissuade the people with large orders from coming through despite the "20 Items or Less" signs prominently placed.
This particular night, the belt was malfunctioning. The switch wouldn't work to get the belt to move, even if I held it in the "always on" position. Occasionally, as I had discovered, I could get the belt to move (when in sensor mode) if I gave a sound thump to the side of the belt's casing. After a while, though, this percussive matinence ceased working, and I simply had to ask customers to move their items manually when they left them at the far end of the belt. Most were perfectly happy to help out, especially when I explained the situation.
Emphasis on "most."
This older gentleman (Mr. Temper) came up to my line (why is it always the old people?) with a handful of items (eggs, bread, milk, a few cans) and set them at the very far end of the belt while I rang up the customer in front of him. At the end of the transaction, Mr. Temper walked up with a light air of self-importance to the pinpad counter with his card already out and ready to swipe. I politely explained the situation to him, as he had left his items at the far end of the belt, beyond the reach of my arm, and asked him nicely if he would move the items closer so I could scan them.
He grunted, glared, and stomped back to the end of the belt. He placed his whole forearm behind his pile of things and shoved them towards the scanner. They got about halfway before the bread fell to the floor, the milk toppled sideways (thankfully it didn't spring a leak), and three cans rolled across the scanner (one even ringing up). He then stomped back to the pinpad and continued glaring in silence.
I sighed and rang up more of his items. I had to stop at one point (though I don't recall why), whether it was to ID the gentleman for an age-restricted item or to call a CSM because a barcode was missing. The man--obviously annoyed at this point, though the only thing I'd done was ask him if he could move his items for me due to a broken belt--suddenly growled, "This is bull****," and stormed out of the store. Just like that.
I had to wait for the CSM anyway, so they could take the temperature-sensitive items back into the store to keep them from spoiling.
Now I've got flat Coke because she had to turn the belt on for just three things.
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