How to get $55 worth of king crab legs for free!

[Amethyst Hunter]

Greetings! New member, long-time retail slave. Thought I'd offer up my first rant, heh:

Background: I recently moved to SW Florida and found employment with a grocery chain which shall go unnamed (suffice it to say that the latter half of its name can be used to form obscene epithets, heh). Several nights ago I had a shift where somebody must've kicked over a rock or something, because it was Looney Customer Day. Figures - I *always* get all the weirdoes/annoying people when I do retail crapwork. This batch included the following:

#1 - Cuckoo Guy. CG rang up a big grocery bill, then decided he had to go off in search of some other item. While he's taking his sweet 'ol time I'm standing at the register which is all set to go, and there's a line starting to build by the conveyor belt. CG finally returns with a big cuckoo clock (one of those once-in-a-while extra things that stores sell), but when I ring that up and he sees how much it is (about $40) he's like, "can you take that off and I'll put it on another credit card?"

It should be noted here that it is not a simple matter to void out an entry. This is the most craptastic, complicated system I have ever had the misfortune of operating. But I digress. I removed the offending clock from the bill, dealt with that, then rang up the clock separately and sent Cuckoo Guy on his way.

#2 - Racist Bitch. RB only has a small order, but one of the first things she says to me as she's unloading her cart is "Did you hear where they found that spinach was coming from?" (meaning, the stuff that's been making everybody sick) I said no, I don't really pay that much attention to the news. RB comes back with, "I bet it's from...MEXICO!"

Um, no, dear. I may not marinate in news but I'm aware enough to have heard that the contaminated spinach is said to have originated from right here in the good 'ol US of A, in California. (Of course, to certain kinds of people, that may as well be Mexico...but we won't go there.) Again, I digress. (As my pal Mad Bassist put it, "if she only knew how much of what she ate and wore was made by immigrant or prison workers, she'd flip out!")

I just stayed quiet and rang up the order, hoping she wouldn't unload any more stupid comments on me and provoke my fanfiction muse, who has repeatedly offered to kill all the stupid people that come through my line. Not wishing to tempt him and therefore place my only source of income at risk, I just bribe him with a cookie and/or the objects of his stalking affection to shut him up. Lady, you're entitled to your prejudices, but I don't wanna hear about 'em.

But these two crapstomers were later beaten out by...

#3: Queen Crab Bitch. QCB like Racist Bitch had a small order, and one of the items was a big 'ol bag of king crab legs (the kind that you need a friggin' warehouse machinery to crack open; i.e., the kind of delicacy that people like me will never see in their lifetimes because they're hella expensive). Now, every so often the store has 'specials' in their meat/seafood department, but the catch is that in order to get these special deals you have to be registered in their saver card program (it's one of those shopper's cards that you scan at the register and it automatically deducts the sale price as it goes). QCB had a saver's card...but the sale price wasn't ringing up.

Turns out, she'd picked the WRONG item. Sales only apply to specific items. Oops.

Well, QCB about had kittens right there and then. Fortunately the bulk of her obnoxiousness was directed at the other managers, whom I promptly called up to deal with the situation because I could tell that QCB looked about ready to go off on somebody, and for damn sure I didn't want that somebody to be me lest I open up a can of smackdown on her ass (did I mention that I do NOT tolerate nasty people very well?). She kept snarling "I want a manager! I want a manager! EVERY time I come in this store you people have the wrong things on top of other stuff, this always happens to me..." ad nauseum.

After much haggling (which I didn't witness being that the latter half of the confrontation took place back by the meat department) QCB earned her title by getting what basically amounts to $55 worth of king crab legs for FREE. Yes, you read that right.

As if I needed any more reasons to hate people.

And apparently this is par for the course once Touron Season ("tourist" + "moron" = "touron") commences in a couple of weeks, according to someone my mom works with at her place. Which means I can look forward to more Queen Crab Bitches possibly showing up in my line. Oh joy!

There was also a woman shepherding a kid or two that was apparently misbehaving and she threatened to leave the one kid behind in the store...real nice, lady. What do you wanna bet she's one of those that's the first to scream her kid's in danger when there's no actual threat around, or blame someone else besides her if something does happen?

I also want to smack the smartasses who think it's cute to come up to me and make some comment like "thought I'd give you some more work!" or "Don't go over X amount!...oh, I'm kidding!" (Yeah, well I'm not laughing, twit - Occasionally there is the customer who asks seriously for me not to ring up past a certain amount, and I have no problem with their request. I'm talking here about the jagoffs that think it's funny to mess with my head when I'm trying to concentrate on the damn job...and with ADD running riot in my head that ain't always easy!)

Oh, and I HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE the people that come up to me and right off the bat address me as: my first name (God, how I despise name tags!!), "Honey," "Sweetie," or "Darlin'" or some variation of the above. Dude, I do not know you, I have not given you my permission to call me by my first name or some other doofus moniker, DO NOT call me that because I hate it and think it's rude as hell, and for sure you'd chew me out if I turned around and did the same thing to you if our places were reversed.

How was YOUR day?

[Worker-Intellectual]

After much haggling (which I didn't witness being that the latter half of the confrontation took place back by the meat department) QCB earned her title by getting what basically amounts to $55 worth of king crab legs for FREE. Yes, you read that right.

1. Did I really read that right?
2. How? Is the manager a spineless pushover who actually believes that the customer is always right or something?

[Amethyst Hunter]

1) Yep, you read right.

2) From what I hear, that's the case. There are several rotating managers around here from what I've seen - only one is rumored to be the kind that won't take crap from Stupid People. The rest are Spineless Pushovers (that, or they just don't give a damn and will give people stuff just to shut them up and make them go away).

[Mad-Bassist]

Great to finally see you here, Ms. Hunter. Heh heh. *bows to the great one and offers a Snarf-kebob*



I hate people who insist on running back into the store to get something they forgot. I encountered one such cretin who absolutely had to have his butter. As many of us are aware, stores tend to place the dairy section as far away from the cash register as possible in hopes that someone coming in for milk will be distracted along the way and pick up more things. Anyway, I told butter boy to finish his purchase now and then go back, but all he did was say, "I'll just be a minute" and ran off. I asked the fellow at the register if he had a hold button on his register, but no luck. Oh well, butter boy did make decent time as he was of the jogger persuasion and didn't get distracted along the way, and I managed to pimp the website to the clerk and bagger.

As for Racist Bitch, *laughs like a mental patient* she needs to watch one of those documentaries that show how they handle beef and chicken. The ethnicity or class of the people who handle food (*gasp* people that work!) makes no difference compared to the sight of freshly-plucked chickens bobbing up and down in troughs filled with sickly-brownish water. She'd also delight in knowing that the USDA can't always catch abcesses in her medium-rare beef either. Yep, if you're going to eat rich, you better spend the extra money for the type of beef that can be cooked that way. Heh heh. On a similar note, have you ever noticed that local chickens cost more than ones imported all the way from Arkansas? Just thought I'd point that out (speaking as an Oregonian.)

Queen Crab Bitch: ugh. In my new line of work, we have to spoil the customer (or "guest" as I'm learning to call them,) but then they're spending $150-$350 per night for the room alone, heh heh. So what's a few miniatures they said they didn't drink? Fortunately, those are few. I've encountered enough of the lower-class version of those people that don't care what others think or who they hurt just to save a few bucks. Maybe it's because I've worked mostly in convenience stores where managers are less likely to cave in to these people because they work the registers too? Supermarket managers seem more detached from the floor to me, and they see such a loss as necessary to keep a customer, so they reward their behavior which naturally causes them to continue it in the future. But fifty-five bucks? If it were me, I would have personally exchanged them for the proper product and delivered them to the register, and apologized for the misunderstanding (while avoiding the obvious "I'm sorry that you can't read." Heh heh.) If she continued to complain, then too bad for her. "If you hadn't acted so obnoxiously, I would have let you have those king crab legs free because we appreciate our good customers." Which would have been the truth. Nice customers get spoiled when I have discretionary powers like my current job.

Name tags... a necessary evil. It unhinges me a bit when someone I don't know comes up to me and addresses me by name. There is a protocol I follow that requires a formal introduction, but then not everyone was raised to be civilized. I'll admit it doesn't bother me much now because I'm expected to address guests by their surname (such as "May I arrange a wake up call for you, Ms. Smith?") and do it three times! Ah, such is the fate of one who makes a living serving the upper class. Once I get past the introduction, I consider that good enough reason to address me as Erich. Heh heh. One thing that did bug me though was someone walking up to me in the grocery store or on the street and calling me by name. Once I realize they're customers of mine, it's like, "C'mon dude, I'm off the clock!"

One thing that bothered me was people hitting on my female co-workers. I think that has something to do with the fact I was raised mostly by my mother and two older half-sisters. One particularly slimy fellow from my old Mini-Mart was telling a girl who must have been fourteen that she was beautiful. I rang up her purchase as quickly as possible to get her out of there. One time when we hired a girl around sixteen and he hung out a little too long, I wanted to take him outside and say, "If you make her quit, I will kill you." Well, not really. I'm too nice, but then I value my days off. I've noticed that behavior when I'm not directly visible, but it mostly stops when I'm behind the counter with said female. Can't these people pick up women more on their level at dive bars or something?

As for people messing with me, I'll admit some of my former stores have made a little extra money because of it, usually by mistake which I notice after they've left. Oh well. Revenge isn't a good thing and I don't encourage it, but some bumpkin who came into my Mini-Mart asked me "what kind of shit music is that?" and didn't change his question when I said, "excuse me?" didn't get to participate in our "three hot dogs for 99 cents" special. My boss approved. Thinking back, I should have asked if he was getting gasoline, removed his merchandise from the counter, and told him to "get out of my store." I'm difficult to piss off, but disrespecting my music is one of those rare shortcuts. Amethyst Hunter, you'll appreciate the fact that his comment was directed at Iced Earth's "Im-Ho-Tep (Pharaoh's Curse)" from their Horror Show album, which was playing at a low volume behind the counter that night. Heh heh.

Other things bug me like the ancient "must be free" when an item doesn't scan or is missing the price tag - yes, they have no idea how unoriginal they're being. "Well, let's see if you can outrun my phone and the police then." Sometimes I get prank callers at my hotels. Usually they're an annoyance because I'm trying to work, but I'll occasionally "go Jim-Bob" on them once I determine they're not potential guests. One night I did that and directed them to the Touch Tone Terrorist's website. When they asked if they could call me back because I was cool, I said only if they come up with better material and can make me laugh. I never heard from them again. *shrugs*

Dang city people...

[Jester]

And apparently this is par for the course once Touron Season ("tourist" + "moron" = "touron") commences in a couple of weeks, according to someone my mom works with at her place.

Yes, the tourons. Idiots on vacation.

A tourist will ask, "Where's the beach?"
A touron will ask, "Does the water go all the way around the island?"

A tourist will ask, "Where is Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville?"
A touron will ask, "Does Jimmy Buffett actually own Margaritaville?" as they stand under the sign that reads "Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville."
A touron might also ask, "Where is Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville?", but the difference between the touron and the tourist is that the tourist will do so while standing under the sign that reads "Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville."

When you are working and talking to a tourist, they will ask, "Where are you from?"
When you are working and talking to a touron, they will ask, "Do you live here?"

A tourist will ask, "How many people down here actually live on boats?"
A touron will ask, "What do they do with all the boats in the winter?"

A tourist will ask, "Where's Duval Street?"
A touron will ask, "Where's Duval Street?"--while standing on Duval Street.

A tourist will ask, "How far is it to Cuba?"
A touron will ask, "How far is it to Cuba?"--while standing in front of one of the many signs that reads "90 miles to Cuba."

A tourist will ask, "How far out is the reef?"
A touron will ask, "Can we drive our scooters to the reef?"

A tourist will ask, "Which way is west? We want to catch the sunset."
A touron will aks, "Does the sun always set on the same side of the island?" and "How many times a day do they have the Sunset Celebration?"

And finally, a tourist will ask relatively intelligent questions about subjects they don't know or are uninformed about.
But only tourons can ask questions like "How long is the Seven Mile Bridge?", "How far apart are the Mile Markers," and "What kind of fish can we catch under the island?"

And yes, Virginia, all the above-quoted questions have been asked by tourons right here on my lovely little tropical island paradise tourist town. Kind of makes you weep for the human race, doesn't it?

[Seanette]

Oh, and I HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE the people that come up to me and right off the bat address me as: my first name (God, how I despise name tags!!), "Honey," "Sweetie," or "Darlin'" or some variation of the above. Dude, I do not know you, I have not given you my permission to call me by my first name or some other doofus moniker, DO NOT call me that because I hate it and think it's rude as hell, and for sure you'd chew me out if I turned around and did the same thing to you if our places were reversed.

How was YOUR day?

I'd think using your name would be better than "hey, you".

[friendofjimmyk]

Wow, thanks! I've always wanted to know how to get crab legs for free!!!!!

[blaubent]

We keep our newspapers by the photo department, not too far from the main registers. I am constantly being asked where we keep them.

A older guy comes in last night, looks around, walks to photo. Has a confused look on his face. I'm thinking, "Don't ask it. Just don't."

"Where's the newspapers?"

"By photo."

"Where's photo?"

"Right over there, where you were."

[EmiOfBrie]

Touron question from Provincetown, MA:

"We've been driving for hours from New York...how do you get to Framingham?"

Makes this roadgeek cry....how to tell them they took a wrong turn over 2 hours ago? How then to tell them to read a MAP from now on...

[Lace Neil Singer]

For the record, I don't mind being called duck, sweetie, pet, etc cuz the people who normally call me that are the elderly, who are always very nice people and it comes as natural. What I hate are creepy beergutted men calling me darling or doll...

[Jester]

Touron question from Provincetown, MA:

"We've been driving for hours from New York...how do you get to Framingham?"

Makes this roadgeek cry....how to tell them they took a wrong turn over 2 hours ago? How then to tell them to read a MAP from now on...

Being familiar with the geography in question, I am laughing my butt off here. Scarily, we have had people down here do the same thing...come all the way down the Keys, but the whole time, been looking for something in Miami. In other words, they took a wrong turn, drove 150+ miles out of their way, all the while seeing signs every few miles reading "KEY WEST X MILES" and never thinking about turning around or asking directions or anything. Id. I. Ots.

For the record, I don't mind being called duck, sweetie, pet, etc cuz the people who normally call me that are the elderly, who are always very nice people and it comes as natural. What I hate are creepy beergutted men calling me darling or doll...

Hehehheh...being from the West, I have a habit of calling people whose names I don't know "dude" or "darlin'." Of course, I am the guy that has told people "shut up and sit down" and "shut the fuck up" and not only gotten away with it, but made them laugh in the process. And for some reason it seems that I have not really offended anyone yet with the "dude" and "darlin'" stuff.

[Dips]

Touron question from Provincetown, MA:

"We've been driving for hours from New York...how do you get to Framingham?"

Makes this roadgeek cry....how to tell them they took a wrong turn over 2 hours ago?

Don't tell them about the wrong turn. Just tell them to point the car the way they've been travelling and keep going that way, no matter what. Maybe they'll end up in the ocean and win the Darwin.