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That's twice in as many shifts that I have been stranded with no real managerial help more than an hour before the night ends, and the store closes. Do you really assume absolutely nothing can go wrong after midnight? Feed a gremlin, see what happens, I gods-damn dare you!
Do my usual 15 minutes to close, ten minutes to close, etc. calls.
Ten minutes til, an older lady comes up with a heaping, overflowing half cart of what I can only say, from the looks of it, is junk, but she seems to be desperately in need of. Vitamins, desk lamps, laundry detergent, and makeup, these are the general homogeny of her cart. All on manager's reduced special, which means something's wrong with them.
Anyway, she alerts me at the start, "I'll be writing a check."
*sigh* "That's perfectly fine, I can take checks here." Goodbye, getting out of the store before the clock rolls into overtime. Hello, getting yelled at in two days.
I watch/assist in scanning about half of her pile, and it comes out to roughly $250. Good lord, woman, how did you do that with discount junk? She writes out her check, I run it... or, attempt to run it, and get a notification back: Check declined, returned check. In other words, to the best of my knowledge, she's had a bounced check through our store previously.
All I tell her is that the check isn't going through, and she gets really paranoid suddenly. "That sounds like someone must've gotten my information! I've got Tons O' Money (TM, not as much fun as a Barrel O' Monkeys) in my account!"
I shrug. "Don't know what to tell you... just the check won't run."
She hems and haws a bit, pushing me well into store dark thirty. "I know, you want to get out of here..."
"I don't really have a choice, if I'm here more than thirty minutes past close, the alarms set, and I'll set them off as I try to leave."
She ripostes with some gibberish about Target and their registers being on automatic timers... meanwhile, she is trying to scan the rest of her pile, while I try once again to get a manager who can do something besides give me a look like a landed fish at my problems.
Nope, only a floor manager, who of course, knows nothing about the registers, and he confirms my suspicion that the real managers left for the night already. Well, crap... hmm... I'm out of options, I HAVE to void her first order. And I load those items into a cart for go backs tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, she pays with a credit card for the other half of her pile, and I'm raging inside. She continues to hem and haw as she watches me load her other order into the cart, and keeps asking what I'm going to do with it, and telling me she's going to be up all night, calling her bank in New York, as they should be open. (NY's only two hours ahead of us, honey... they aren't going to be open for a good three hours yet.)
And she leaves. And once again, I wonder why self check isn't manned by a trained manager for closing.
Do my usual 15 minutes to close, ten minutes to close, etc. calls.
Ten minutes til, an older lady comes up with a heaping, overflowing half cart of what I can only say, from the looks of it, is junk, but she seems to be desperately in need of. Vitamins, desk lamps, laundry detergent, and makeup, these are the general homogeny of her cart. All on manager's reduced special, which means something's wrong with them.
Anyway, she alerts me at the start, "I'll be writing a check."
*sigh* "That's perfectly fine, I can take checks here." Goodbye, getting out of the store before the clock rolls into overtime. Hello, getting yelled at in two days.
I watch/assist in scanning about half of her pile, and it comes out to roughly $250. Good lord, woman, how did you do that with discount junk? She writes out her check, I run it... or, attempt to run it, and get a notification back: Check declined, returned check. In other words, to the best of my knowledge, she's had a bounced check through our store previously.
All I tell her is that the check isn't going through, and she gets really paranoid suddenly. "That sounds like someone must've gotten my information! I've got Tons O' Money (TM, not as much fun as a Barrel O' Monkeys) in my account!"
I shrug. "Don't know what to tell you... just the check won't run."
She hems and haws a bit, pushing me well into store dark thirty. "I know, you want to get out of here..."
"I don't really have a choice, if I'm here more than thirty minutes past close, the alarms set, and I'll set them off as I try to leave."
She ripostes with some gibberish about Target and their registers being on automatic timers... meanwhile, she is trying to scan the rest of her pile, while I try once again to get a manager who can do something besides give me a look like a landed fish at my problems.
Nope, only a floor manager, who of course, knows nothing about the registers, and he confirms my suspicion that the real managers left for the night already. Well, crap... hmm... I'm out of options, I HAVE to void her first order. And I load those items into a cart for go backs tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, she pays with a credit card for the other half of her pile, and I'm raging inside. She continues to hem and haw as she watches me load her other order into the cart, and keeps asking what I'm going to do with it, and telling me she's going to be up all night, calling her bank in New York, as they should be open. (NY's only two hours ahead of us, honey... they aren't going to be open for a good three hours yet.)
And she leaves. And once again, I wonder why self check isn't manned by a trained manager for closing.
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