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Fuck
Fuck. Just...fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck . Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck . One more thing: fuck . Also: fuck.
Today was the day of a thousand deaths, I tell ya.
It took four days for our new POS system to shit the bit. When it did, it did so thoroughly and spectacularly. Checks, debit and credit cards could not go through, and since many people do not carry cash that prevented them from making their purchases. So there were plenty of carts of left-behind merchandise milling around and piles of stuff behind the service desk, to be paid for and picked up later, along with lots of pissy, screamy SCs mad because they couldn't waste their money on shit they probably don't need anyway. Fuck.
Further, nothing was scanning at the correct sale price. Everything scanned at regular price and customers were contesting this. Go figure, they can't find the ass gel located six inches away from their face, but they can spot an overcharge from out of space. So to input the correct sale prices at the register, one of the service desk people had to take one of the store radio scanners (more on those later), scan each item after it was scanned at the checkout, find out the correct price, and then do an override. Since this is the Super Duper Uber Mega Super Stupendous Lowest Prices of the season sale, EVERYTHING is on sale. Fuck.
Before long, the after-church crowd rolls in, the checkout lines begin steadily growing, so calls are put out for backup cashiers. Because when the cash registers themselves aren't functioning, opening more of them is the way to zip everybody out.
Double fuck.
And whatever glitch there was in the POS system hit the radio scanners too. The guy who opened this morning couldn't even finish doing the morning autopulls because the radios were super slow and kept losing their connections. I swear it took me ten tries to pull the same pair of shoes. I am not exaggerating in the least. And I was told by my supervisor I was to spend today doing as much autopull as I could so the pulls tomorrow morning would be small and she could get to other projects ASAP. Triple fuck. But as luck would have it, she happened to stop by for some shopping as all this was going down, so I could tell her what was happening and to be prepared for an ugly day tomorrow.
It took over half my shift to get things back to normal. The help(less) desk, conveniently located in India so the corporate suits could save some money and use it on executive bonuses instead, was not answering our calls, and when they finally did they couldn't help us. We also tried and failed to get a hold of the company technician who oversaw the installation of our new registers last week.
Have I mentioned: fuck?
Oh, and then on top of that there was the carryout I did this afternoon to the derpa derp who decided to park his truck ON THE KERB, instead of in front of the automatic doors, thus blocking the bike rack and preventing a couple kids from getting their bikes out of it. Then, after I loaded up his umbrella and fountain, he came barging in the store bellowing "WHERE'S MY BASE!?", because this umbrella is a free-standing one with a plastic base. I had to tell him three times that the base was included in the box; it's four separate pieces that snap together and then can be filled with sand or water, or have a cinder block dropped on top to weight the umbrella down. Then and only then did he figure out I wasn't ripping him off and go away.
I would say I was surprised to see him driving over the curb, but that would require me to forget how truly stupid my customers are.
edited to add: fuck
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck . Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck . One more thing: fuck . Also: fuck.
Today was the day of a thousand deaths, I tell ya.
It took four days for our new POS system to shit the bit. When it did, it did so thoroughly and spectacularly. Checks, debit and credit cards could not go through, and since many people do not carry cash that prevented them from making their purchases. So there were plenty of carts of left-behind merchandise milling around and piles of stuff behind the service desk, to be paid for and picked up later, along with lots of pissy, screamy SCs mad because they couldn't waste their money on shit they probably don't need anyway. Fuck.
Further, nothing was scanning at the correct sale price. Everything scanned at regular price and customers were contesting this. Go figure, they can't find the ass gel located six inches away from their face, but they can spot an overcharge from out of space. So to input the correct sale prices at the register, one of the service desk people had to take one of the store radio scanners (more on those later), scan each item after it was scanned at the checkout, find out the correct price, and then do an override. Since this is the Super Duper Uber Mega Super Stupendous Lowest Prices of the season sale, EVERYTHING is on sale. Fuck.
Before long, the after-church crowd rolls in, the checkout lines begin steadily growing, so calls are put out for backup cashiers. Because when the cash registers themselves aren't functioning, opening more of them is the way to zip everybody out.
Double fuck.And whatever glitch there was in the POS system hit the radio scanners too. The guy who opened this morning couldn't even finish doing the morning autopulls because the radios were super slow and kept losing their connections. I swear it took me ten tries to pull the same pair of shoes. I am not exaggerating in the least. And I was told by my supervisor I was to spend today doing as much autopull as I could so the pulls tomorrow morning would be small and she could get to other projects ASAP. Triple fuck. But as luck would have it, she happened to stop by for some shopping as all this was going down, so I could tell her what was happening and to be prepared for an ugly day tomorrow.
It took over half my shift to get things back to normal. The help(less) desk, conveniently located in India so the corporate suits could save some money and use it on executive bonuses instead, was not answering our calls, and when they finally did they couldn't help us. We also tried and failed to get a hold of the company technician who oversaw the installation of our new registers last week.
Have I mentioned: fuck?
Oh, and then on top of that there was the carryout I did this afternoon to the derpa derp who decided to park his truck ON THE KERB, instead of in front of the automatic doors, thus blocking the bike rack and preventing a couple kids from getting their bikes out of it. Then, after I loaded up his umbrella and fountain, he came barging in the store bellowing "WHERE'S MY BASE!?", because this umbrella is a free-standing one with a plastic base. I had to tell him three times that the base was included in the box; it's four separate pieces that snap together and then can be filled with sand or water, or have a cinder block dropped on top to weight the umbrella down. Then and only then did he figure out I wasn't ripping him off and go away.
I would say I was surprised to see him driving over the curb, but that would require me to forget how truly stupid my customers are.
edited to add: fuck
and then have a nice nap 
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