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I don't post too often, so this is going to be lengthy. Some stories are copied form my online journal, cuz I'm lazy.
Mr. Vague
I had the dumbest guy come up to buy cigarettes. He walks up, and says "Gimme two packs of the red cigarettes."
There are probably between 10 and 20 different kinds of cigs with red packaging, and none that are called "reds", at least not at our store. So I ask, "What brand is it?"
He gets pissed. "THE RED ONES!!!! REDS?!?!"
Sir, can you be any more vague? So I assume he wants Marlboros, they have a red package and they're the more popular brand of cigarettes here. So I reach for them and ask "Are these the right ones?"
"NNNOOOO!" he roared, "TO YOUR RIGHT!!!"
So I reach for the red ones to the right- Pall Mall filters. Apparently those aren't the ones, either. "DOOOWWWWWNNN!!!" At this point he's pounding his fist on the counter, which is thoroughly pissing me off.
Not Kent III's either. Not ANYTHING I point to. Finally I go to grab the USA 100's and those turn out to be the right ones. It does not, however, say the word "red" on the package.
So I grab two packs and he whips out a 20 dollar bill. No, wouldn't that be convenient? No, he actually pulled out a fist of coins and said "You can count this out FOR me."
Nickels, dimes, a couple quarters... all mixed together. It would have been nice if he would have helped sort them into piles of the same kind of coin, but that's just asking too much, isn't it? There was a huge line behind him that were all huffing and puffing (probably because it took a good 2 minutes to count that shit) and finally I was done with him. Just as he turned to leave, he said "I was really a blessing in disguise. Now you've got enough coins to last the rest of your day!"
Dumbass.
As nice as that may be...
Lady walks up with a package to be mailed. "This is a return to sender," she told me, and then started to walk away. Uh-oh.
"Ma'am, this doesn't have any postage on it," I called after her. She whipped around, with a shocked look on her face.
SC: But I don't need it! Can't you just send it for free? I don't need it, they sent it to me by mistake!
Me: I'm afraid it still has to be paid for. If you send it out like this, it'll be delivered right back to your house.
SC: Well, it's acne medication for my son, but he moved out and I cancelled my orders with them three months ago! They should be paying to get it sent back to them!
Me: I understand that it was their mistake in sending it to you after you cancelled, but if you want it returned it needs to have paid postage. We can't send things in the mail for free.
SC: But I don't need it! *pouts* Will the Post Office let me do it there?
Me: No. They'll tell you the same thing.
SC: Well I'm going to try anyway! *storms off*
Oh, so dramatic!
Male manager came up to me. He said, "A customer just told me that the women's bathroom is disgusting and shouldn't be used in that condition. She said it's the worst bathroom she'd ever seen! She really made a fuss about it. Could you go check it out? And if it's too bad, close it off and let me know."
Oh shit. I'd never "checked the bathroom" before, and from what the manager told me, it sounded like I'd be in for a big mess. I began walking towards the bathroom, imagining what it would be like. Toilet paper all over the place, the walls and floor covered in the 3 P's (Poop, Puke, Piss), toilets clogged, bloody tampons being used as crayons on the wall, the works... I was scared. I opened the door and braced myself for a horrid stench. My brain was ready to see the aftermath of a bad night of heavy drinking and eating pots of baked beans around a campfire.
I opened the door, and saw...
...a single square of toilet paper on the floor. Upon further inspection of the bathroom, in the stalls etc, that was the only thing out of place. The rest of the bathroom was spotless. No clogged toilets or ANYTHING.
My night would've been more interesting if it had been a mess.
Simma down nah!
Twas a slow night at Customer Service. I hadn't recieved any phone calls for floral lately, and as far as I know, the other girl I was working with hadn't gotten any either. Suddenly the phone rang. I answered.
Me: *robotic greeting* how may I help you?
SC: *screeching like a pig being strangled with barbed wire* BLAHBLAHRABBLERABBLE, THIS IS THE THIRD TIME I CALLED, BLABLABLA!!!!!11! BLAH BLAH, FLORAL SHOP!!!!
Me: Okay, ma'am-
SC: AND DON'T YOU LEAVE ME HANGING AGAIN!!!
Whoa. I put her on hold, paged Floral, and watched. You can see the floral shop from the service counter, and I saw the floral girl pick up the phone, then pull it away from her ear as the SC squealed into her ear. After a moment, she gave the phone to the manager of floral. The light for the line she called on was lit up for over 25 minutes. Holy hell.
I asked my coworker if she'd gotten any calls for floral. Nope. I don't see how she could have called 3 times unless they were earlier that day, and I don't see why she was so bitchy about it.
I am so done with this post now. Sorry for it being so long.
Mr. Vague
I had the dumbest guy come up to buy cigarettes. He walks up, and says "Gimme two packs of the red cigarettes."
There are probably between 10 and 20 different kinds of cigs with red packaging, and none that are called "reds", at least not at our store. So I ask, "What brand is it?"
He gets pissed. "THE RED ONES!!!! REDS?!?!"
Sir, can you be any more vague? So I assume he wants Marlboros, they have a red package and they're the more popular brand of cigarettes here. So I reach for them and ask "Are these the right ones?"
"NNNOOOO!" he roared, "TO YOUR RIGHT!!!"
So I reach for the red ones to the right- Pall Mall filters. Apparently those aren't the ones, either. "DOOOWWWWWNNN!!!" At this point he's pounding his fist on the counter, which is thoroughly pissing me off.
Not Kent III's either. Not ANYTHING I point to. Finally I go to grab the USA 100's and those turn out to be the right ones. It does not, however, say the word "red" on the package.
So I grab two packs and he whips out a 20 dollar bill. No, wouldn't that be convenient? No, he actually pulled out a fist of coins and said "You can count this out FOR me."
Nickels, dimes, a couple quarters... all mixed together. It would have been nice if he would have helped sort them into piles of the same kind of coin, but that's just asking too much, isn't it? There was a huge line behind him that were all huffing and puffing (probably because it took a good 2 minutes to count that shit) and finally I was done with him. Just as he turned to leave, he said "I was really a blessing in disguise. Now you've got enough coins to last the rest of your day!"
Dumbass.
As nice as that may be...
Lady walks up with a package to be mailed. "This is a return to sender," she told me, and then started to walk away. Uh-oh.
"Ma'am, this doesn't have any postage on it," I called after her. She whipped around, with a shocked look on her face.
SC: But I don't need it! Can't you just send it for free? I don't need it, they sent it to me by mistake!
Me: I'm afraid it still has to be paid for. If you send it out like this, it'll be delivered right back to your house.
SC: Well, it's acne medication for my son, but he moved out and I cancelled my orders with them three months ago! They should be paying to get it sent back to them!
Me: I understand that it was their mistake in sending it to you after you cancelled, but if you want it returned it needs to have paid postage. We can't send things in the mail for free.
SC: But I don't need it! *pouts* Will the Post Office let me do it there?
Me: No. They'll tell you the same thing.
SC: Well I'm going to try anyway! *storms off*
Oh, so dramatic!
Male manager came up to me. He said, "A customer just told me that the women's bathroom is disgusting and shouldn't be used in that condition. She said it's the worst bathroom she'd ever seen! She really made a fuss about it. Could you go check it out? And if it's too bad, close it off and let me know."
Oh shit. I'd never "checked the bathroom" before, and from what the manager told me, it sounded like I'd be in for a big mess. I began walking towards the bathroom, imagining what it would be like. Toilet paper all over the place, the walls and floor covered in the 3 P's (Poop, Puke, Piss), toilets clogged, bloody tampons being used as crayons on the wall, the works... I was scared. I opened the door and braced myself for a horrid stench. My brain was ready to see the aftermath of a bad night of heavy drinking and eating pots of baked beans around a campfire.
I opened the door, and saw...
...a single square of toilet paper on the floor. Upon further inspection of the bathroom, in the stalls etc, that was the only thing out of place. The rest of the bathroom was spotless. No clogged toilets or ANYTHING.
My night would've been more interesting if it had been a mess.
Simma down nah!
Twas a slow night at Customer Service. I hadn't recieved any phone calls for floral lately, and as far as I know, the other girl I was working with hadn't gotten any either. Suddenly the phone rang. I answered.
Me: *robotic greeting* how may I help you?
SC: *screeching like a pig being strangled with barbed wire* BLAHBLAHRABBLERABBLE, THIS IS THE THIRD TIME I CALLED, BLABLABLA!!!!!11! BLAH BLAH, FLORAL SHOP!!!!
Me: Okay, ma'am-
SC: AND DON'T YOU LEAVE ME HANGING AGAIN!!!
Whoa. I put her on hold, paged Floral, and watched. You can see the floral shop from the service counter, and I saw the floral girl pick up the phone, then pull it away from her ear as the SC squealed into her ear. After a moment, she gave the phone to the manager of floral. The light for the line she called on was lit up for over 25 minutes. Holy hell.
I asked my coworker if she'd gotten any calls for floral. Nope. I don't see how she could have called 3 times unless they were earlier that day, and I don't see why she was so bitchy about it.
I am so done with this post now. Sorry for it being so long.
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