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So I was working yesterday and everything was going good. It was very slow. I got the autumn stock out (can't believe we're already putting out Halloween stuffs.) The customers were mostly good. This lady brought in a really pretty quilt-in-progress to show us. I helped out a really nice old lady and actually cut her foam into the shape she wanted because I knew she wouldn't be able to do it herself and she was sweet. She came back an hour later and gave us all cookies. Someone left their keys in the store and I noticed it had a tag for the local gym so I called them, got her name and number and called her. She was so happy she gave me a tip 
We had a couple of misunderstandings with sales and people not wanting to read signs, but no one was unpleasant and everything worked out. I helped this guy get ribbon for his wedding invitations. I called other stores, got stuff transferred. I'm used to people treating me as either an accessory that comes with the register or a machine that should know all or a kid that doesn't know anything. I was called amazing three times today.
Enter crazy foam lady (CFL)
CFL comes up with some foam and a sad looking cushion: Could you cut the seam on this, I wanna see if I can get this foam in there without having to alter the cushions.
Me: Of course (I understand it'd be much easier for her if she could just slide some new foam in and I'm not busy. I grad the cushion and instantly notice that it's a little squishier than it should be. I pull out some stitches and an orange powder squirts out of the cushion.) I'm sorry ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to take this outside. (It was almost time to close and I had already swept cause it was slow)
CFL: Why?
Me: It's so old that the foam has disintegrated. This will cause a very big mess.
CFL shrugs and disappears. I get back to work on putting out new stock. From behind me: "What the fuck!" I run to the back. Our foam is kept along the back wall next to the door to our back room. I find our manager standing in the doorway. It looked like a pumpkin had shit on the floor. The whole back hallway was covered in orange powder. Everything was orange! The foam had gotten into the home dec fabric, the red tag fabric, and the other foam. Our foam, once green, is now orange. ORANGE!
So where is CFL? Squatting in the corner trying to shove foam into her cushion. Next to her is a pair of scissors and the foam knife. She had cut our foam lengthwise. We can't sell that now. Actually, she had cut almost all of the foam up, trying to find a piece that will fit into her cushion. Argh. And what does she say? She walks right up to our manager.
CFL: You need to clean this up.
So she thought that she could dump out her mess on our floor so we'd clean it and not her? Wrong. Our manager flipped. Grabbed the mop and broom and made her clean it. She also made her pay for the foam. $600 worth of foam. I don't know how she did it.
We had a couple of misunderstandings with sales and people not wanting to read signs, but no one was unpleasant and everything worked out. I helped this guy get ribbon for his wedding invitations. I called other stores, got stuff transferred. I'm used to people treating me as either an accessory that comes with the register or a machine that should know all or a kid that doesn't know anything. I was called amazing three times today. Enter crazy foam lady (CFL)
CFL comes up with some foam and a sad looking cushion: Could you cut the seam on this, I wanna see if I can get this foam in there without having to alter the cushions.
Me: Of course (I understand it'd be much easier for her if she could just slide some new foam in and I'm not busy. I grad the cushion and instantly notice that it's a little squishier than it should be. I pull out some stitches and an orange powder squirts out of the cushion.) I'm sorry ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to take this outside. (It was almost time to close and I had already swept cause it was slow)
CFL: Why?
Me: It's so old that the foam has disintegrated. This will cause a very big mess.
CFL shrugs and disappears. I get back to work on putting out new stock. From behind me: "What the fuck!" I run to the back. Our foam is kept along the back wall next to the door to our back room. I find our manager standing in the doorway. It looked like a pumpkin had shit on the floor. The whole back hallway was covered in orange powder. Everything was orange! The foam had gotten into the home dec fabric, the red tag fabric, and the other foam. Our foam, once green, is now orange. ORANGE!
So where is CFL? Squatting in the corner trying to shove foam into her cushion. Next to her is a pair of scissors and the foam knife. She had cut our foam lengthwise. We can't sell that now. Actually, she had cut almost all of the foam up, trying to find a piece that will fit into her cushion. Argh. And what does she say? She walks right up to our manager.
CFL: You need to clean this up.
So she thought that she could dump out her mess on our floor so we'd clean it and not her? Wrong. Our manager flipped. Grabbed the mop and broom and made her clean it. She also made her pay for the foam. $600 worth of foam. I don't know how she did it.
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