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I...just...
. Still. It was over 6 hours ago, and I'm still just...
I'm bagging for one of my managers, who I'll refer to as Greg*, when this sour-looking old woman gets in line. She's got this very fake platinum poof of hair that's shaped kind of like a lopsided gumdrop, big glasses on an ugly, huge leopard-patterned plastic chain (really funny-looking), an oversized, gaudy floral dress, and enough makeup for a horde of strippers. She came up to the checkstand with a little pile of groceries, and three gigantic ferns.
CFL - old bag
DC - yours truly
CFL: (frown, glare)
DC: (retail smile) Hi, how are you today?
CFL: (grumbling) ...Fine.
I bag her groceries, and put them in the cart. I go to put the ferns in. "DON'T SMASH MY FERNS!" Um, yeah, know how to load floral into a cart, thanks. I ask, as required:
DC: Would you like help out to your car?
CFL: No. Yes.
DC: Uh...okay.
Transaction ends.
DC: And you wanted help out, right? (Hoping maybe to get out of it?)
CFL: (huff, loud sigh) Yes!
CFL: Hey, wait, wait. What is this? What the heck is this? I didn't buy this. Was I charged for this?
The "this" was a prepaid cellphone minutes card that had been placed on the check signing shelf in front of her. It had been inadvertently scanned with the order, after she had loaded her precious ferns on top of it without looking at the belt first. (She had also placed no divider between her order and the one in front, causing a fern to be scanned into the previous person's order, but it was voided) Greg thought the card was part of the order, naturally, and scanned it in.
CFL: This isn't mine. I didn't buy this. You charged me for this, and it's not mine. I don't want this, this is NOT mine. I want my money back. You charged me for this, and it's not mine.
Okay. Not yours. We get it.
Greg: Well, if you go to the service desk, they can refund your money.
CFL: No, I don't want to do that, just give me my money back now.
Greg: Ma'am, I can't give you a refund at this checkstand, you'll have to go talk to Customer Service.
CFL: You can't just do it here? Well, fine! (huffs off to service desk, me in tow for the service out I'm now obligated to do)
Enter Tammi*, the level-headed customer service chick. She handled this pretty well, I think.
CFL: (shoves card in Tammi's face) This isn't mine, I want a refund. He rung it up, but it wasn't mine. I don't want this.
T: Alright, well, we can do that, but first I have to go back and check out the procedure for returning this, there's a code we have to enter for these.
CFL: No, I don't have time for that, I just want my money back.
T: I'm sorry, we have to do this a certain way so we can give you your money back.
CFL: Well, just give me the money now, and do your paperwork later.
T: Ma'am, it's not paperwork, it is a code we have to enter into the register in order to process your return.
CFL: But I'm not returning anything, it's not MINE! I've never seen this thing before in my life!
(Greg is now also at the service desk)
T: Well, we have to process the return in order to give you your money.
CFL: Then just refund the whole thing. Take back my whole order, I'm not going to stand here waiting for two hours! (it's been maybe a minute and a half) Just refund all my groceries, I'm not coming back!
The phone rings, and she bitches that the CS girl is going to ignore her to answer it, which she doesn't. (She gives it to me instead - NOT nice, but nobody else was willing to wade through the verbal carnage to take it.) Then T and G go into the office to find the code, and she turns to me.
CFL: I can't believe this. Nobody knows what they're doing. This is ridiculous. I don't have time for this. Don't smash my ferns! (I wasn't touching them)
And then, the kicker, the big WTF.
CFL: I think he was trying to steal my money! He put that in there so he could steal my money!
She keeps ranting, but I'm not listening because I'm still trying to process what she just said. That's about the biggest single leap of logic I've ever heard. Then T and G come out of the office, T starts to put in the code, and CFL blurts out: You were trying to steal my money!
Then Greg gets that look he gets whenever he wants to HULK SMASH! the dumbass in front of him. I slink away as soon as I hear, "I'm at a loss as to why you'd suggest that, even to ACCUSE me, when it doesn't even make any SENSE..." There's no way I'm sticking around for these flames, angry Greg is scary, and so is this nutjob.
I start to think I'm done with her after I've bagged a few things for the other checkers, but then I hear, "DC, we need you for a service out." NO.
Fern Lady does not forget, apparently.
The parking lot conversation yielded this gem:
CFL: Now I have to find my car. I'm so upset, I forgot where I parked.
The rest was all basically dissing my co-workers' perceived incompetence the entire time. I loaded her groceries, and she took two of the ferns into the front seat, "so they don't get SMASHED!" I was left with the oh-so-daunting task of setting the last one on top of the groceries, and was advised to "be careful with the ferns, don't smash them!" Yup. And her last comment:
"Well, thank YOU for YOUR help. Nobody does anything right around here."
And that was the highlight of my day. Enjoy.
. Still. It was over 6 hours ago, and I'm still just... I'm bagging for one of my managers, who I'll refer to as Greg*, when this sour-looking old woman gets in line. She's got this very fake platinum poof of hair that's shaped kind of like a lopsided gumdrop, big glasses on an ugly, huge leopard-patterned plastic chain (really funny-looking), an oversized, gaudy floral dress, and enough makeup for a horde of strippers. She came up to the checkstand with a little pile of groceries, and three gigantic ferns.
CFL - old bag
DC - yours truly
CFL: (frown, glare)
DC: (retail smile) Hi, how are you today?
CFL: (grumbling) ...Fine.
I bag her groceries, and put them in the cart. I go to put the ferns in. "DON'T SMASH MY FERNS!" Um, yeah, know how to load floral into a cart, thanks. I ask, as required:
DC: Would you like help out to your car?
CFL: No. Yes.
DC: Uh...okay.
Transaction ends.
DC: And you wanted help out, right? (Hoping maybe to get out of it?)
CFL: (huff, loud sigh) Yes!
CFL: Hey, wait, wait. What is this? What the heck is this? I didn't buy this. Was I charged for this?
The "this" was a prepaid cellphone minutes card that had been placed on the check signing shelf in front of her. It had been inadvertently scanned with the order, after she had loaded her precious ferns on top of it without looking at the belt first. (She had also placed no divider between her order and the one in front, causing a fern to be scanned into the previous person's order, but it was voided) Greg thought the card was part of the order, naturally, and scanned it in.
CFL: This isn't mine. I didn't buy this. You charged me for this, and it's not mine. I don't want this, this is NOT mine. I want my money back. You charged me for this, and it's not mine.
Okay. Not yours. We get it.
Greg: Well, if you go to the service desk, they can refund your money.
CFL: No, I don't want to do that, just give me my money back now.
Greg: Ma'am, I can't give you a refund at this checkstand, you'll have to go talk to Customer Service.
CFL: You can't just do it here? Well, fine! (huffs off to service desk, me in tow for the service out I'm now obligated to do)
Enter Tammi*, the level-headed customer service chick. She handled this pretty well, I think.
CFL: (shoves card in Tammi's face) This isn't mine, I want a refund. He rung it up, but it wasn't mine. I don't want this.
T: Alright, well, we can do that, but first I have to go back and check out the procedure for returning this, there's a code we have to enter for these.
CFL: No, I don't have time for that, I just want my money back.
T: I'm sorry, we have to do this a certain way so we can give you your money back.
CFL: Well, just give me the money now, and do your paperwork later.
T: Ma'am, it's not paperwork, it is a code we have to enter into the register in order to process your return.
CFL: But I'm not returning anything, it's not MINE! I've never seen this thing before in my life!
(Greg is now also at the service desk)
T: Well, we have to process the return in order to give you your money.
CFL: Then just refund the whole thing. Take back my whole order, I'm not going to stand here waiting for two hours! (it's been maybe a minute and a half) Just refund all my groceries, I'm not coming back!
The phone rings, and she bitches that the CS girl is going to ignore her to answer it, which she doesn't. (She gives it to me instead - NOT nice, but nobody else was willing to wade through the verbal carnage to take it.) Then T and G go into the office to find the code, and she turns to me.
CFL: I can't believe this. Nobody knows what they're doing. This is ridiculous. I don't have time for this. Don't smash my ferns! (I wasn't touching them)
And then, the kicker, the big WTF.
CFL: I think he was trying to steal my money! He put that in there so he could steal my money!
She keeps ranting, but I'm not listening because I'm still trying to process what she just said. That's about the biggest single leap of logic I've ever heard. Then T and G come out of the office, T starts to put in the code, and CFL blurts out: You were trying to steal my money!
Then Greg gets that look he gets whenever he wants to HULK SMASH! the dumbass in front of him. I slink away as soon as I hear, "I'm at a loss as to why you'd suggest that, even to ACCUSE me, when it doesn't even make any SENSE..." There's no way I'm sticking around for these flames, angry Greg is scary, and so is this nutjob.
I start to think I'm done with her after I've bagged a few things for the other checkers, but then I hear, "DC, we need you for a service out." NO.
Fern Lady does not forget, apparently.The parking lot conversation yielded this gem:
CFL: Now I have to find my car. I'm so upset, I forgot where I parked.
The rest was all basically dissing my co-workers' perceived incompetence the entire time. I loaded her groceries, and she took two of the ferns into the front seat, "so they don't get SMASHED!" I was left with the oh-so-daunting task of setting the last one on top of the groceries, and was advised to "be careful with the ferns, don't smash them!" Yup. And her last comment:
"Well, thank YOU for YOUR help. Nobody does anything right around here."
And that was the highlight of my day. Enjoy.
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