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This happened a few days ago but due to the looooong workweek I’ve had I was unable to post it. I wouldn’t have even posted this if it weren’t for the sweet, sweet ending. 
I’ve worked 12 solid days without a day off. A 65 hour work week is nothing fun, even at a job I enjoy. But it’s the President’s day sale, and I make a lot of money this time of year. I had my usual pattern of not selling a thing the first day of it, come in to work hung over and looking like hell for the rest of the sale, and then sell more than anyone else and go from bottom 3 in the state to tied for 2nd place. Booya.
Anyway, this happened before that day. I’m writing up an order when this middle-aged woman comes in. She sees the promotion we have and we talk about it. We get to the part about the delivery and I tell her delivery on the piece is $90.
SC: WHAT? OH come on, surely you can get around that.
Me: I can’t. The only way to get around it is to go pick it up at the warehouse.
SC: Where’s that?
Me: About two hours north of here.
SC: Well I still shouldn’t think you should charge that much for delivery. You should give it to me for free since I’m on a fixed income.
Me: (thinking, WTF) Ma’am, the delivery company sets our prices. That is what they charge us; we don’t make any money on it. We’re a retailer; we don’t make our own furniture or own our own delivery service.
SC: But I’m on a fixed income! Don’t you have something you can do? Like, give me the footstool for free?
Me: I can’t do that. Our prices are set way below our competition’s and we don’t have the overhead.
SC: What about no sales tax promotion?
Me: The piece is already 10% off, so it pays for your tax and then some.
SC: But I’m on a fiiiiixed iiiiiiiincome. I can’t afford delivery or tax.
I'm not exaggerating. She really did pronounce it like that.
Like this was to make me budge. On disability? Don’t care. On social security? Don’t care. On welfare? Don’t care. Retired from the military? While I thank you for the service to your country, as far as the transaction is concerned, I still don’t care. This conversation repeated itself about half a dozen times where she just wanted me to give her something for free, it didn’t matter what.
She finally had a few choice words for me, about how bad the customer service was, how I personally didn’t care about this or that, etc, and how she was going to complain about me personally because she was on a fiiiiiixed iiiiiiiiincome and I just was not willing to help her. She even remarked that “You just lost a sale, I hope this hurts your paycheck!
” before she stormed out.
Now, that in and of itself isn’t too bad. The real kicker happened while I wasn’t at work. I had worked a week straight without a day off and I decided to go the local card house for some Texas Hold’em. It’s packed, as everyone wants to kick off the weekend right, so there’s a huge queue. It takes me about half an hour before I can sit down at a table.
Guess who’s sitting across from me.
Miss Fiiiiiiiixed Income. With no less than about four or five hundred in chips.
Well, I can barely believe my luck, and she sees me and her face is a mixture of shock and scowl. She asks to be moved to another table – the dealer says that can’t be done unless she wants to wait for half an hour or more to go to the back of the line. I just look at her and smile.
I’ll spare you all the details, but at the end of about an hour and a half of playing, guess who was over $200 richer?
And guess who he won the money from, almost exclusively?
I’ll admit, I played like an ass. I only moved in when she was in the pot, but hey, I’m off the clock, and if someone sits down at a poker table with me, I don’t care if I’m winning their paycheck, their baby’s milk money, or their social security payment. Can’t afford to lose it? Not my problem. Don’t sit down and play with it.
The best part was that she decided to accost me in the parking lot to tell me what a son of a bitch I was. She even said something along the lines of “I’m glad I didn’t buy from you.” I just looked at her and went “Well, if I had sold you the sofa earlier I would have made six dollars in commission. But no worries, I’ll gladly take the two hundred instead!”
She started cussing up a storm at me and I walked off to the car, laughing the whole way.
Lets see if she does complain. I hope she does. I really really hope she does.
I’ve worked 12 solid days without a day off. A 65 hour work week is nothing fun, even at a job I enjoy. But it’s the President’s day sale, and I make a lot of money this time of year. I had my usual pattern of not selling a thing the first day of it, come in to work hung over and looking like hell for the rest of the sale, and then sell more than anyone else and go from bottom 3 in the state to tied for 2nd place. Booya.
Anyway, this happened before that day. I’m writing up an order when this middle-aged woman comes in. She sees the promotion we have and we talk about it. We get to the part about the delivery and I tell her delivery on the piece is $90.
SC: WHAT? OH come on, surely you can get around that.
Me: I can’t. The only way to get around it is to go pick it up at the warehouse.
SC: Where’s that?
Me: About two hours north of here.
SC: Well I still shouldn’t think you should charge that much for delivery. You should give it to me for free since I’m on a fixed income.
Me: (thinking, WTF) Ma’am, the delivery company sets our prices. That is what they charge us; we don’t make any money on it. We’re a retailer; we don’t make our own furniture or own our own delivery service.
SC: But I’m on a fixed income! Don’t you have something you can do? Like, give me the footstool for free?
Me: I can’t do that. Our prices are set way below our competition’s and we don’t have the overhead.
SC: What about no sales tax promotion?
Me: The piece is already 10% off, so it pays for your tax and then some.
SC: But I’m on a fiiiiixed iiiiiiiincome. I can’t afford delivery or tax.
I'm not exaggerating. She really did pronounce it like that.
Like this was to make me budge. On disability? Don’t care. On social security? Don’t care. On welfare? Don’t care. Retired from the military? While I thank you for the service to your country, as far as the transaction is concerned, I still don’t care. This conversation repeated itself about half a dozen times where she just wanted me to give her something for free, it didn’t matter what.
She finally had a few choice words for me, about how bad the customer service was, how I personally didn’t care about this or that, etc, and how she was going to complain about me personally because she was on a fiiiiiixed iiiiiiiiincome and I just was not willing to help her. She even remarked that “You just lost a sale, I hope this hurts your paycheck!
” before she stormed out.Now, that in and of itself isn’t too bad. The real kicker happened while I wasn’t at work. I had worked a week straight without a day off and I decided to go the local card house for some Texas Hold’em. It’s packed, as everyone wants to kick off the weekend right, so there’s a huge queue. It takes me about half an hour before I can sit down at a table.
Guess who’s sitting across from me.
Miss Fiiiiiiiixed Income. With no less than about four or five hundred in chips.
Well, I can barely believe my luck, and she sees me and her face is a mixture of shock and scowl. She asks to be moved to another table – the dealer says that can’t be done unless she wants to wait for half an hour or more to go to the back of the line. I just look at her and smile.
I’ll spare you all the details, but at the end of about an hour and a half of playing, guess who was over $200 richer?
And guess who he won the money from, almost exclusively?
I’ll admit, I played like an ass. I only moved in when she was in the pot, but hey, I’m off the clock, and if someone sits down at a poker table with me, I don’t care if I’m winning their paycheck, their baby’s milk money, or their social security payment. Can’t afford to lose it? Not my problem. Don’t sit down and play with it.
The best part was that she decided to accost me in the parking lot to tell me what a son of a bitch I was. She even said something along the lines of “I’m glad I didn’t buy from you.” I just looked at her and went “Well, if I had sold you the sofa earlier I would have made six dollars in commission. But no worries, I’ll gladly take the two hundred instead!”
She started cussing up a storm at me and I walked off to the car, laughing the whole way.
Lets see if she does complain. I hope she does. I really really hope she does.
you want some cheese to go with that whine?
I AM the evil bastard!
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