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and our old-timer service desk lady is reduced to tears.
Poor gal got 5 SCs in a row, mostly of the dump-shit-on-the-counter-and-bark-I-wanna-return-this type. But there was one guy with a coffeemaker who was outside the return policy, lied when he told her he called the manufacturer's 1-800 number and they told him to return the coffeemaker to the swamp (yeah, sure, they have 1-800 numbers just so they can tell you to return the thing, especially when the instruction manual advises you not to return the thing, okay, whatever
), demanded she print him a new receipt so he could return the coffeemaker (not without repurchasing it, which means you'll have paid for the coffeemaker twice but only be refunded once), and when that failed he pushed the coffeemaker off the counter onto the floor behind it and stormed off.
This lady has worked at the swamp 32 years and she says this is only the second time she's been crying at work. She does not cry. She takes nerve pills, blood pressure medication, and sleeping pills instead.
Not that I fared much better, mind you. I spent the whole morning schlepping heavy things to people because we had a doorbuster sale and storage cabinets were flying out the doors because they were on the doorbuster. Then later on, as I was helping cart an assembled patio swing out for a carryout (swing had gone to no reorder and the display was all that was left, so we sold it), some old bag shoved her cart right in front of me so she could ask me where a bunch of shit was.
All she got was finger points and vague descriptions while I tried to keep holding the end of the swing up off the floor(wouldn't completely fit on the flatbed). That's all she deserves. She's just lucky I didn't run her prune-y ass over. I hate it when people can see I'm busy lugging something up to the front for a carryout, and yet they jump in front of me and bug me because they can't find the ass cream or something. I've got people waiting for this shit; I don't need them getting pissy because they have to wait for their stuff.
Poor gal got 5 SCs in a row, mostly of the dump-shit-on-the-counter-and-bark-I-wanna-return-this type. But there was one guy with a coffeemaker who was outside the return policy, lied when he told her he called the manufacturer's 1-800 number and they told him to return the coffeemaker to the swamp (yeah, sure, they have 1-800 numbers just so they can tell you to return the thing, especially when the instruction manual advises you not to return the thing, okay, whatever
), demanded she print him a new receipt so he could return the coffeemaker (not without repurchasing it, which means you'll have paid for the coffeemaker twice but only be refunded once), and when that failed he pushed the coffeemaker off the counter onto the floor behind it and stormed off.This lady has worked at the swamp 32 years and she says this is only the second time she's been crying at work. She does not cry. She takes nerve pills, blood pressure medication, and sleeping pills instead.
Not that I fared much better, mind you. I spent the whole morning schlepping heavy things to people because we had a doorbuster sale and storage cabinets were flying out the doors because they were on the doorbuster. Then later on, as I was helping cart an assembled patio swing out for a carryout (swing had gone to no reorder and the display was all that was left, so we sold it), some old bag shoved her cart right in front of me so she could ask me where a bunch of shit was.
All she got was finger points and vague descriptions while I tried to keep holding the end of the swing up off the floor(wouldn't completely fit on the flatbed). That's all she deserves. She's just lucky I didn't run her prune-y ass over. I hate it when people can see I'm busy lugging something up to the front for a carryout, and yet they jump in front of me and bug me because they can't find the ass cream or something. I've got people waiting for this shit; I don't need them getting pissy because they have to wait for their stuff.
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