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Oh, what I wouldn't give to be working someplace that isn't completely overrun with crotchety old people.
I'm coming down from lunch, passing the optical department, when somebody bellows the word "CHARGE!" at me.
I turn and am greeted by some crotchety old fart. "CHARGE!" he moos at me again.
I regard the strange, old man with a one-word vocabulary. He appears to be trying to communicate. "CHARGE!"
At this point I'm ready to shove my nametag in his face and say "No....IRV" but a manager is nearby. So instead I settle for the tried-and-true insincere "can I help you?", hoping that maybe I'll get something that resembles a courteous response.
"YOU DAMN WELL BETTER! My wife was using that motorized cart and the damn thing's dead! You need to charge it back up!" Great, looks like I got "curt" instead.
I go and see how his wife's doing. She's handling the dead battery far better than he is. She explains, without raising her voice, that the last time she used this particular cart it didn't work so well either. I tell her I can bring out the wheelchair, or see if the other motorized cart is available for use. Hubby starts in on me again: "You! Bring us that other cart NOW."
Gee gramps, take it easy. Who pissed in your metamucil this morning? But because I have better things to do than argue with some geezer who smells like coffee breath, Ben-Gay and sad, and because the manager is still lurking around someplace nearby, I troop up to the front of the store, retrieve the newer, better, motorized cart, and drive it over to optical, where the old lady gets out of the disable cart BY HERSELF, limps over, and sits down in the good cart BY HERSELF. Without hubby helping her.
And do I get a thank you for helping the old lady out when her husband won't? You get two guesses and the first one doesn't count. I just get to push the disabled cart back to the charger, with the wheels locked up, so it's slow going.
Yeah, I know we gotta maintain the carts if we're going to have them. But there isn't enough time or money to keep that chunk of shit going, and we had to pull teeth to even get the good one.
I'm coming down from lunch, passing the optical department, when somebody bellows the word "CHARGE!" at me.
I turn and am greeted by some crotchety old fart. "CHARGE!" he moos at me again.
I regard the strange, old man with a one-word vocabulary. He appears to be trying to communicate. "CHARGE!"
At this point I'm ready to shove my nametag in his face and say "No....IRV" but a manager is nearby. So instead I settle for the tried-and-true insincere "can I help you?", hoping that maybe I'll get something that resembles a courteous response.
"YOU DAMN WELL BETTER! My wife was using that motorized cart and the damn thing's dead! You need to charge it back up!" Great, looks like I got "curt" instead.
I go and see how his wife's doing. She's handling the dead battery far better than he is. She explains, without raising her voice, that the last time she used this particular cart it didn't work so well either. I tell her I can bring out the wheelchair, or see if the other motorized cart is available for use. Hubby starts in on me again: "You! Bring us that other cart NOW."
Gee gramps, take it easy. Who pissed in your metamucil this morning? But because I have better things to do than argue with some geezer who smells like coffee breath, Ben-Gay and sad, and because the manager is still lurking around someplace nearby, I troop up to the front of the store, retrieve the newer, better, motorized cart, and drive it over to optical, where the old lady gets out of the disable cart BY HERSELF, limps over, and sits down in the good cart BY HERSELF. Without hubby helping her.
And do I get a thank you for helping the old lady out when her husband won't? You get two guesses and the first one doesn't count. I just get to push the disabled cart back to the charger, with the wheels locked up, so it's slow going.
Yeah, I know we gotta maintain the carts if we're going to have them. But there isn't enough time or money to keep that chunk of shit going, and we had to pull teeth to even get the good one.
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