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I've been wracking my brains thinking of the worst customers I've ever had - a lot of the posts on here have been making me think of my old job at the supermarket, which I haven't thought about for ages! And this one came to mind.
To set the scene, it's about seven or eight o'clock on a Saturday night. I'm sure most of you have the same sort of deal at that sort of time - most of the adult full timers are working nine till five, Monday to Friday sort of deals, so on a Saturday evening you get maybe one adult, but the rest of the staff are all part time teenagers, high school or college students. To give you an idea of how WE were at that point, the oldest among us was no older than twenty five.
So I'm standing on a checkout that's within spittin' distance of the customer service desk, and I'm loving it, because my friend, a supervisor, is stuck behind the desk for her stint there. So we're sort of conversing back and forth in between customers, when this guy comes in.
Right away I can tell there's something... not right. He was obviously both homeless and mentally ill in some way - I say this not in a pejorative manner, but in an utterly factual manner. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, more of a sack than a bag. There's a weird and unpleasant smell in the air around him, but it's unclear whether it's coming from him or the bag. He goes up to the desk and asks where the bathroom is, so she tells him. He doesn't go. He stands there, having a good old conversation with the girl. Now I couldn't hear what all was being said, but I can see my friend's face and she's getting visibly more and more uncomfortable. Surreptitiously, I signal our security guard. He's terrifying looking to a lot of people, because he's big and he's from the Pacific Islands (people here tend to find that intimidating, if they're racist!!) But I know he's a real sweet heart! The fact that he's from the Islands becomes relevant in a moment...
Security comes over and asks the guy to leave in his broken English. He's polite but firm. It's like flipping a switch. HG (Homeless Guy) goes from reasonably pleasant if a little creepy, to flat out nuts in no time flat.
HG: I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE! I'M HAVING A NICE TALK WITH THE GIRLS! WHAT HAVE I DONE? WHAT HAVE I DONE THAT YOU'RE THROWING ME OUT? FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING BACK ASSHOLE!
Security has no choice but to strong arm him toward the door, because now he's crossed the line. But HG isn't having any of that. He goes limp, falling to the floor and out of Security's grasp, where he continues to scream "WHAT HAVE I DONE? WHY ARE YOU THROWING ME OUT? I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING!"
I pick up the phone and call Mrs. Scott up to the front desk. See, that's our code. We don't actually have anyone working for us called Mrs. Scott, but all the able bodied guys on staff know that if they hear us calling for her, they're supposed to drop what they're doing and come a-running. You're on the toilet? Pull up your pants and come a-running. With a customer? Excuse yourself immediately and come a-running.
ANYWAY, six or seven guys come running up to see what's what, and they're just in time to see HG reach into his bag and pull out... a handful of wet sand. Wet with pee, from the smell of it that we're immediately assaulted with. He takes said handful of nasty wet sand and throws it straight into Security's eyes (all the while still shouting - say it with me now - "WHAT HAVE I DONE? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO THROW ME OUT! WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE YOU THROW ME OUT!?"
All the shop guys that came running take over and tackle this guy as he's getting up, while Security is reeling back, trying to get the sand out of his eyes. It takes five of them (I think. This part happened VERY fast) to get him under control. It looked like one on each limb and one with an arm around his waist? Don't quote me. All I know is that they carried him into the back room and the cops were called.
Being a cashier, I had to, you know, serve customers, so I didn't see what happened next. My supervisor friend filled me in - he was struggling so much and so hard that the guys couldn't just put him in a chair and leave him, they had to physically restrain him. When the police arrived, they apparently had him for "assault" - if he hadn't thrown the sand, there probably wouldn't have been any charges at all, unless causing a disturbance counts. He was led out in cuffs, screaming for his bag.
One of the cops was sent back to get it. I saw his face go from "business" as he went into the office, to "ick ick ew" as he came out.
And there you have it. Yes, I realize this sounds like I'm making it up for something to say, but trust me when I say that I'm really not that creative. Like the title of the thread says, I wouldn't believe it myself if it hadn't unfolded literally at my feet! So I can appreciate anyone who wants to call shenanigans, but I assure you, this is a true story. Thanks for reading!
To set the scene, it's about seven or eight o'clock on a Saturday night. I'm sure most of you have the same sort of deal at that sort of time - most of the adult full timers are working nine till five, Monday to Friday sort of deals, so on a Saturday evening you get maybe one adult, but the rest of the staff are all part time teenagers, high school or college students. To give you an idea of how WE were at that point, the oldest among us was no older than twenty five.
So I'm standing on a checkout that's within spittin' distance of the customer service desk, and I'm loving it, because my friend, a supervisor, is stuck behind the desk for her stint there. So we're sort of conversing back and forth in between customers, when this guy comes in.
Right away I can tell there's something... not right. He was obviously both homeless and mentally ill in some way - I say this not in a pejorative manner, but in an utterly factual manner. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, more of a sack than a bag. There's a weird and unpleasant smell in the air around him, but it's unclear whether it's coming from him or the bag. He goes up to the desk and asks where the bathroom is, so she tells him. He doesn't go. He stands there, having a good old conversation with the girl. Now I couldn't hear what all was being said, but I can see my friend's face and she's getting visibly more and more uncomfortable. Surreptitiously, I signal our security guard. He's terrifying looking to a lot of people, because he's big and he's from the Pacific Islands (people here tend to find that intimidating, if they're racist!!) But I know he's a real sweet heart! The fact that he's from the Islands becomes relevant in a moment...
Security comes over and asks the guy to leave in his broken English. He's polite but firm. It's like flipping a switch. HG (Homeless Guy) goes from reasonably pleasant if a little creepy, to flat out nuts in no time flat.
HG: I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE! I'M HAVING A NICE TALK WITH THE GIRLS! WHAT HAVE I DONE? WHAT HAVE I DONE THAT YOU'RE THROWING ME OUT? FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING BACK ASSHOLE!
Security has no choice but to strong arm him toward the door, because now he's crossed the line. But HG isn't having any of that. He goes limp, falling to the floor and out of Security's grasp, where he continues to scream "WHAT HAVE I DONE? WHY ARE YOU THROWING ME OUT? I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING!"
I pick up the phone and call Mrs. Scott up to the front desk. See, that's our code. We don't actually have anyone working for us called Mrs. Scott, but all the able bodied guys on staff know that if they hear us calling for her, they're supposed to drop what they're doing and come a-running. You're on the toilet? Pull up your pants and come a-running. With a customer? Excuse yourself immediately and come a-running.
ANYWAY, six or seven guys come running up to see what's what, and they're just in time to see HG reach into his bag and pull out... a handful of wet sand. Wet with pee, from the smell of it that we're immediately assaulted with. He takes said handful of nasty wet sand and throws it straight into Security's eyes (all the while still shouting - say it with me now - "WHAT HAVE I DONE? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO THROW ME OUT! WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE YOU THROW ME OUT!?"
All the shop guys that came running take over and tackle this guy as he's getting up, while Security is reeling back, trying to get the sand out of his eyes. It takes five of them (I think. This part happened VERY fast) to get him under control. It looked like one on each limb and one with an arm around his waist? Don't quote me. All I know is that they carried him into the back room and the cops were called.
Being a cashier, I had to, you know, serve customers, so I didn't see what happened next. My supervisor friend filled me in - he was struggling so much and so hard that the guys couldn't just put him in a chair and leave him, they had to physically restrain him. When the police arrived, they apparently had him for "assault" - if he hadn't thrown the sand, there probably wouldn't have been any charges at all, unless causing a disturbance counts. He was led out in cuffs, screaming for his bag.
One of the cops was sent back to get it. I saw his face go from "business" as he went into the office, to "ick ick ew" as he came out.
And there you have it. Yes, I realize this sounds like I'm making it up for something to say, but trust me when I say that I'm really not that creative. Like the title of the thread says, I wouldn't believe it myself if it hadn't unfolded literally at my feet! So I can appreciate anyone who wants to call shenanigans, but I assure you, this is a true story. Thanks for reading!
WELCOME 
. So I do not think that I can ever be surprised with anything a human being does. Because... there is alot of stupid out there
..
Sadly, this is all too easily within the realm of retail experience.
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