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This is an oldie from the vault... it's a bit long, so if you want to get straight into it without the backstory, scroll down about 3/4 of the way
Working at crappy tire, there were a few seasons that I hated. Christmas was probably the worst because it was supposed to be a time of holiday cheer, but there were a couple others that were a pain in the ass. Hydro season, where customers would constantly be asking me about MB Hydro's rebate promotions on compact fluorescent bulbs comes to mind. Then there was that time the geniuses at corporate came up with a fun, interactive contest called "Spring Thrill at the Till." Needless to say, it was no thrill for me. But if it wasn't for charity, red ball/red glove season would be the worst.
Basically here is how it goes. To help underprivileged kids buy sports equipment and play sports, crappy tire would sell these crappy red tennis balls or crappy red gloves (bet ya $20 that they are made in a sweatshop by underprivileged kids in China) to raise money. The company would pay for all the costs of the charity, so the $2 cost of the ball is basically pure cash for the charity. So the company gets their nice tax write-off, the kids are happy, and the cynic in me questions whether a company that sells sports equipment operating a charity for kids to buy sports equipment is some sort of conflict of interest because I'm pretty sure this company isn't into the whole philanthropy thing, at least not according to my pay stubs.
So after doing my fun interactive eLearning tutorial which was not fun on the whole red ball deal and writing the product number of the ball on my hand because it was basically the only information relevant to me, I go to work. Customers come through like usual, except I have to ask them for a donation for the red ball thingy. Almost invariably, they would reply with a question, so I would have to go into a little speech about what the whole thing is about, they would usually either buy a ball for their dog/kid or politely decline. Or, since the charity was called "Jumpstart", there would be the few confused souls thinking of booster cables. At times it would take some effort to give them a Jumpstart back into reality. Politely declining is cool, if you don't want to participate in the Crappy Tire Tax Write-off Charity, that's fine by me.
Getting back to the whole "politely decline" part, there was one guy who didn't understand that part. This is his story.
It begins on a crappy day, crappy because the handsome, dashing cashier known affectionately as IhateCrappyTire has to work. Remembering to ask customers about the ball, some buying, some not, I start to think "this isn't so bad." Unbeknownst to me at the time, Murphy's Law and the general suckiness of retail was about to kick in. Enter a Crazy Old Man (COM) with a thick German accent.
Me: "Would you like to donate to the Jumpstart Program? It's to help underprivileged kids play sports."
COM: "No," as he gives me his money
Me: "Ok," as I get him his change
Well, the word Ok must have been the equivalent of applying those booster cables to COM's nipples (not that there's anything wrong with that), because it set him off. The next scene went something like this.
COM, yelling: "(Unintelligible due to accent) Charity (Unintelligible) goodness of my heart (unintelligible) money (unintelligible) red ball (unintelligible)!!!"
Being still relatively new, I just stood there shell-shocked as he ranted and left the store with his stuff, change and precious Crappy Tire Money, never to be seen again. This event caused me to fear asking people about the charity, because you never know when someone might go off on you. And when you have a mental state like mine, the last thing you need is crazy old German guys screaming at you.
Working at crappy tire, there were a few seasons that I hated. Christmas was probably the worst because it was supposed to be a time of holiday cheer, but there were a couple others that were a pain in the ass. Hydro season, where customers would constantly be asking me about MB Hydro's rebate promotions on compact fluorescent bulbs comes to mind. Then there was that time the geniuses at corporate came up with a fun, interactive contest called "Spring Thrill at the Till." Needless to say, it was no thrill for me. But if it wasn't for charity, red ball/red glove season would be the worst.
Basically here is how it goes. To help underprivileged kids buy sports equipment and play sports, crappy tire would sell these crappy red tennis balls or crappy red gloves (bet ya $20 that they are made in a sweatshop by underprivileged kids in China) to raise money. The company would pay for all the costs of the charity, so the $2 cost of the ball is basically pure cash for the charity. So the company gets their nice tax write-off, the kids are happy, and the cynic in me questions whether a company that sells sports equipment operating a charity for kids to buy sports equipment is some sort of conflict of interest because I'm pretty sure this company isn't into the whole philanthropy thing, at least not according to my pay stubs.
So after doing my fun interactive eLearning tutorial which was not fun on the whole red ball deal and writing the product number of the ball on my hand because it was basically the only information relevant to me, I go to work. Customers come through like usual, except I have to ask them for a donation for the red ball thingy. Almost invariably, they would reply with a question, so I would have to go into a little speech about what the whole thing is about, they would usually either buy a ball for their dog/kid or politely decline. Or, since the charity was called "Jumpstart", there would be the few confused souls thinking of booster cables. At times it would take some effort to give them a Jumpstart back into reality. Politely declining is cool, if you don't want to participate in the Crappy Tire Tax Write-off Charity, that's fine by me.
Getting back to the whole "politely decline" part, there was one guy who didn't understand that part. This is his story.
It begins on a crappy day, crappy because the handsome, dashing cashier known affectionately as IhateCrappyTire has to work. Remembering to ask customers about the ball, some buying, some not, I start to think "this isn't so bad." Unbeknownst to me at the time, Murphy's Law and the general suckiness of retail was about to kick in. Enter a Crazy Old Man (COM) with a thick German accent.
Me: "Would you like to donate to the Jumpstart Program? It's to help underprivileged kids play sports."
COM: "No," as he gives me his money
Me: "Ok," as I get him his change
Well, the word Ok must have been the equivalent of applying those booster cables to COM's nipples (not that there's anything wrong with that), because it set him off. The next scene went something like this.
COM, yelling: "(Unintelligible due to accent) Charity (Unintelligible) goodness of my heart (unintelligible) money (unintelligible) red ball (unintelligible)!!!"
Being still relatively new, I just stood there shell-shocked as he ranted and left the store with his stuff, change and precious Crappy Tire Money, never to be seen again. This event caused me to fear asking people about the charity, because you never know when someone might go off on you. And when you have a mental state like mine, the last thing you need is crazy old German guys screaming at you.
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