I don't often get angry at people, but sometimes it's just out of your control. I was about a year and half into by debt with with life. It was night time, roughly 7 PM. The store was quiet and I was mainly cleaning up. It was a rare night when 2 managers were closing and just me. I get along with everyone at work, so I wasn't shy and hiding in my own corner of the store. I can't recall what I was doing, but I remember this woman, middle aged, short, manish haircut and a stub on planet Earth. She wasn't tall and she sure wasn't average in high. She was slightly soggy in the midsection. She wore awful glasses. She was about to ruin my night. I walked up to the register to ring her out. She was with another woman. I can't remember what she looked like, but she was sweet... Actually, she didn't speak much but that's not important. So, the Fat Woman places a shoe box at the counter. I pick it up and open the cover. Revealed to me was the packaging inside the shoe box and the shoes, of course. Everything was laid out as if I was the first person to open this particular box. I removed some of the wrapping to check the shoe sizes. "What are you doing?" The Fat Woman asked.
"Well, I'm checking the shoe sizes..." I responded.
"I already did that."
"Okay, but I'm suppose to check the shoes."
"I don't care. These are a gift for someone and I don't want you messing up the packaging." She mentions as she stammering through the mess I began making."
"Don't worry I'll make sure everything is fine." I say as a rip off and random piece of paper wrapped around the toe of the shoe. I grab the stuffing inside and toss it behind me.
"What are you doing!!" The dyke of a woman yelled, "I want the stuffing in the shoe!" She grabs the shoe from me and began putting back in the box. She stopped and looked at the toe of the shoe. "Where's the paper?"
I fucked up, I thought. I wasn't going to survive this. I wanted out, actually, I wanted her about, because I was about to bash her skull into the counter and I would have loved to see her head crack open and watch her brain matter fall out out so I can smash that again, like in Robocop 2. (I can't find a video, but basically, if you hadn't seen the movie, which sucked, Robocob is battling against another prototype with a drug dealers brain stem and shit inside. At the end, Robocob pulls it out and smashes against something and it basically explodes.) "I threw it away..." I told her.
"You're ridiculous!"
"Thank you..."
"Honey, you are not cut out for retail."
"I want to see a manager."
Are you fucking shitting me? Really? Are you fucking retarded. You are a fucking dyke! Holy shit! That wasn't all that was going through my head...
I grabbed both managers, I explained the situation to them and they were confused. Ricardo (Not his real name. Hiding his name to protect his identity and all that bullshit) went up and dealt with it. The two babbled, while I was telling Shirley (Also not her real name) what happened. She rolled her eyes saying they were bitches and walked away. A few minutes later, Ricardo came back to me and said, "Well, I think everything is fine, but you're still clocked in for the transaction, so you still have to do it." I nodded and went back to the register. I finally finished the transaction after 20 minutes of a retardation meltdown or something in that genre (if it even is one) and tried to move on with my life. I walked away from the register. I was free. I jumped for joy. I did cartwheels (none of this part is actually true. It's more of a hyperbole) I found confetti in my pockets and threw them into the air. WEEEEEEEEEHH!!!!!!! They were back standing at the register... FML! I walked back to the register, but this time it was the Fat Dyke Woman's....partner....ish.... buying a shirt. She looked at me and with this sweet little voice, she said, "I'm sorry about all that." I smiled and nodded.I grabbed the shirt giving it a crinkly sound from the paper inside.
Suddenly, that bitch of a woman comes out of no where and says to me, "She wants to keep the paper in the shirt too..." It only took one glare. My eyes met hers and suddenly she was defenseless. She realized that she had nothing. She was nothing. I continued glaring and I noticed indentations around her neck forming what looked like a hand. Her face began turning red...purple....blue....while. Her eyes popped out of her sockets and...
Well, obviously that all didn't happen. But the idea was pretty sound...
"Rewards," Can Kiss My Hairy Ass
We have these stupid "Rewards" cards. Something like a Stop & Shop card, but through email. I'll lay it out on you. You get $10 for signing up (sent to your emails), you get points for each person and when you rack up 1000 points ($100) you get a 10 dollar coupon. That works for every hundred dollars ($200, 300, etc...). Now, ever coupon has about 100 different ramifications that no one cares about and neither do I. For every dumb shit that walks up to make a purchase, I gotta get them to join. The joys of retail. So I ask... And these are their responses:
- "Yeah, I have one."
- "I have one somewhere. Does it come on a key?
- "I signed up years ago." (We've been doing this version for a year...)
- "I left it at home"
- "My husband does it..."
- "My wife does it..."
- "You know, I really don't have time to do it. I'm late for a meeting and I have other things to do with my life, I just can't do..." (A "no" would have sufficed...)
- "I have one, but I just changed my purse and its probably in the other purse so I don't have it with me. Can you look it up by my street address?" (This is done through email...)
- "My mother does it but she's not here with me..." (Well that helps...)
- "I don't have email..." (I doubt that, you're 35 years old dip shit!)
- "I don't have email..." (Well, no shit you don't. You're at least 98 years old. You shouldn't be fucking driving here by yourself. What if your precious heart decides to say, "fuck life," then what?)
- "I don't have the time."
- "I don't want your emails. I get enough of them."
- "What do you mean, 'I'm not in the system,' I get your email. (Well, did you register your card?) "I did it here! I get your coupons" (Right, but we don't do it anymore at the store level, you have to register your cards online.) "Well, I get your emails, so I must have." ( You're not in the [fucking] system!)
- "I live just down the street." (...and I didn't ask)
- "I don't live here."
- "I'm too old for email" (Christ, My grandparents are in their 80's and they do that shit. It not being old, it's just being cutoff from the world. Don't use age as an excuse. Say "no"!)
- "I did it once, but it wouldn't let me. So, I tried it again and my computer froze..." (ZZZzzzz...)
- "I lost it."
- "My dog ate it" (Oh?)
To be continued...
