Retail Hell The Book

Christmas Asshole: What She Really Wanted To Say

From Retail Hell Underground:

Hello, this is Satan's Spawn reporting to you straight from the Gates Of Hell.

I, being the lucky Wal-Mart employee that I am, was put on the Lawn and Garden gate to greet/sell Christmas Trees for a few hours a few days before Christmas.

After being there for roughly four hours, I was already fed up with all of these bitch customers' Christmas Spirit. I figured I would be able to at least get through the rest of my shift without the usual bitchfits. Clearly, this was wishful thinking.

First, within the first fifteen minutes of getting to the gate, it starts to rain and snow. I don't mean that light snow that's almost like mist, I mean full-on fucking cotton balls falling from the sky.

Then some stupid kids (you know, the usual sophomores in high school who have just gotten their driver's license that think they run shit) come in and knock over at least three Christmas Trees. Now, for those of you who have never manhandled a Christmas Tree, they're VERY heavy especially when wet (as they were, considering it had been snowing out consistently throughout the week).

To top it off, one guy came through with his wife and walked right past me. Thinking nothing of it, I went back to planning the destruction of the facility.

Well, a few minutes later he comes back with a Christmas Tree and hands me money.

I tell him politely that he has to go inside to pay for it.

He absolutely has a kanipshit, calling me a "fucking moron" for not telling him that you had to pay.

As he leaves, of course he can't shut the fuck up and has to go out in a blaze of glory, screaming "Of course this didn't work out, it NEVER does. Of course, that fucking moron is just STANDING there with her thumb up her ass!"

I merely wished them a happy holiday.

What I should have said was:

"Well, sir, if you haven't noticed, it's snowing and raining out, and cash registers are electric. Please, tell me how the fuck you expect a cash register to function under these conditions. Have you ever paid for anything outside? No, you have not, as there has never been a cash register outside at any point at this particular store. If none of these trees are good enough for you, why don't you save yourself the inconvenience and me the bullshit and go cut your own goddamn tree from your backyard you ignorant son of a bitch. Please go fuck yourself and I hope your house burns down on Christmas."

Bitch Encounter with a Retailicious Ending

Another great story from Ana on Retail Hell Underground:

Just Doing My Job!

I had to add something totally amazing that happened in my line today.. 

I have never seen two people angrier in my life.

Or justice worked so quickly.

I work three jobs to pay for school. Some of us don't have daddy paying for our crap. I was bagging this rotund lemming’s (fat ass ghetto chick) merchandise (crap she didn’t need or fit into) while her boyfriend was looking at some shit. She uses her debit, but it doesn’t go through.

After like three other cards and yelling at me about how “I need to get a better machine” (yes because I personally spent your money bitch) she looks around, spots the boyfriend picking through some hats, and reaches into her back pocket. She pulls out a credit card, hands it to me and says, “This should work.”

I take the card but look down at the name.  

Surprise. Bitch thinks she is pulling a fast one.

I might be ignorant, but I have never met a female named David before.

‘David’ is looking between her six bags of shit and her boyfriend, not at all suspicious right?

Wrong.

I am sick and tired of this bitch.

There is a line forming behind her and one of the women has a baby who is pulling crap off the candy shelves.

“Well are you going to scan it, you know, sliding it through?"

Oh, that’s what it’s for, damn I feel stupid! I just wanna look at the shiny card you fat piece of shit. She makes this gesture like she is some damn flight attendant. The exits are to your left and right and up my ass. My ego can be used as a flotation device.

Yea bitch, I am going to be treated like a fourth grader and still smile. I have been working at this stupid ass store for two years. I have to pay for college. I have three jobs. I don’t need some prissy princess coming in her working her mojo thinking she owns the world.  

So I say, “Can I see some I.D. David is an unusual name for a female.”

“It’s my boyfriends,” lemming points towards her boyfriend. “He said I could use it. He always pays for my stuff. He loves me. You should get an amazing boyfriend so you don’t have to work.”

Oh, there is my mistake! I feel so ignorant.

Apparently she’s flown in from the 1950’s and is here to tell me the truth about the world. Get a man and have him pay for all my shit. I am sure her boyfriend works in some retail hell and loves that his girlfriend wants him to spend $450 on clothing she will just throw away in a week. Sure.

“I need to see his I.D. then, it is against store policy to allow other people to—“

“I don’t care, just swipe it..”

She is obviously used to be given everything she wants. She is about 290lbs of bitch.

I remain firm.

“I cannot swipe this card unless David shows his I.D.”

At this point the boyfriend has come up to see what is taking so long.

“She’s retarded, she won’t swipe the card!” Fat bitch is whining.

The boyfriend looks like he's about to say something to me I won’t like and will make him regret.

“Are you David ****?” I say, holding out his credit card.

At this point the boyfriend goes silent.

“Britney? Is that my credit card?”

‘David’ has gone red in the face. I stand back for enjoyment. Britney goes pale, I smile, she turns on me and says, “You stupid bitch… this is your fault. Every other store just took it.”

“You used it!” David is furious. “That’s it, we’re over. I’m not your sugar daddy.”

He takes off out of the store.

The fat lemming just stands there, breaks into tears and follows after him.

I watch as they begin arguing in the front of the store. She later came back to ask to borrow the phone, to call a cab.

I told her it was store policy not to let customers use the phone unless it was an emergency.

Best day of my life.

Ana

  

Nasty Custy Gets Told

Longtime RHU Contributor, Tony is getting a Retail Balls Award for taking on a nasty bitch of a custy at his old Target store:

Hello all, Tony in North Carolina again.

I haven't submitted anything in a while, but I have commented on many a post. Anyway, my latest adventure came from the time I got to tell a customer off while shopping.

For several years I worked at a major retail chain that features red and white prominently, and has a dog mascot named "Bullseye". I hadn't been back there in a while due to a Wal-Mart being closer to my house, but had the opportunity to be back in there recently. The employees all wear red shirts and khaki pants. By sheer coincidence I happened to wear a red shirt and jeans. My former co-workers jokingly said they'd give me a scanning gun and get me back to work. We had a good laugh as I walked off to do my shopping I was stopped by a customer.

Customer: Excuse me, can you help me?

Me: Sorry no... (I was going to finish with, "I don't work here")

Customer: Well that's just rude, you people are lazy and useless! I want your managers name, I'm going to report you and get you fired!

Me: Good luck with that since neither me or my manger work here. Which is what I was trying to tell you before you cut me off.

Customer: But those other people said you had to get back to work!

Me: They were joking! I used to work here, but I don't anymore! I haven't worked here in about three years. You know, if people like you didn't jump to conclusions and jump down people's throats the minute the world doesn't go your way, people actually might like their jobs and be more willing to help you, but when you're stupid and rude we're less inclined to help you and could care less if you get what you want.

Customer: ... (She had a shocked look on her face)

Me: If you hadn't have been so rude to me just now I might have been nice enough to point you in the direction of a sales associate, but now I could care less.

And with that I walked off.

I really did want to politely tell her I didn't work there, but like most customers she went from zero to bitch in about 4 seconds.

I got what I needed and headed out without any further incident, but damn it felt good to tell a customer off without having to worry about putting my job at risk.

Tony

 

Boozing Bitch Queen Encounter on Christmas Eve

From Joe the Cigar Guy on Retail Hell Underground:

Hello all!

Joe the Cigar Guy here.

Can you stand another tale of Christmas madness?

Good, 'cause here we go.

In early November, I responded to a newspaper ad offering seasonal work at a major retailer whose name rhymes with "Gord and Raylor".

I went in for the grip 'n grin interview, underwent a concise indoctrination/ training program and received a name tag and work schedule.

Establishing and maintaining a good relationship with the Customer is paramount at "the Gord" and I was no slouch. Helping people pick out just the right article of clothing isn't always easy, but I've got a knack for it, if I do say so.

The old-timers warned me that things would get progressively crazier as Christmas approached and they weren't kidding!

You name it, we got it: the "deescount" hunters, the people who forgot to bring any form of payment, the phone customers who insisted you drop everything, the bands of youths who would walk in and out of the store several times while obviously looking for the surveillance cameras, and the just plain batshit crazy.

Add to that the "upbeat" Christmas carols on an endless loop, the blood-curdling screams of the kids being hauled onto Santa's lap, and the BWOOP-BWOOP-BWOOP of the loss-prevention alarm going off every 30 seconds and you've got a recipe for true dementia.

It all came to a head on Christmas Eve.

As folks here on the east coast know, we got a major snowstorm the weekend before Christmas and retailers were looking to make up for lost time. It was "all hands on deck" for the last great push of 2009.

Things began calmly enough at 7:00 AM. The early birds with their discount coupons in hand came in. Between then and noon, I think I must have re-folded the same sweaters, ties and pants about thirty times. People were generally pretty cool until about midday.

Then, apparently, the realization that Zero Hour was closing fast did away with all rational thought.

People carried MOUNDS of clothing into the fitting rooms and left them.

They tried to pull off the sensor tags in full view of everybody.

They tried to return merchandise from other stores.

They demanded discounts because "I KNOW THE MANAGER!"

But The Bitch Queen Of The Universe didn't grace me with her presence until fifteen minutes before closing!

By that time, my legs and back were SCREAMING in pain and I was literally cooking in my wool-blend suit. At that moment, I knew exactly how a convict whose sentence is almost up feels. I could HEAR every tick of my watch.

She lurched up to my register with SIX bags full of merchandise.

"Oh Merciful Father, please don't let those be returns", I silently prayed.

"D'you (hic) work here?", she asked.

The reek of cigarettes and gin coming off her made me gag.

"Yes ma'am."

(Oh shit, she's HAMMERED!)

"Well, I wanna buy all this stuff. And HURRY 'cause my (hic) husband's in th' car and he's ANGRY at me!"

(Angry? Just because you got shit-faced and waited until the last minute to buy Christmas gifts? No!)

"So, if I get BEAT UP tonight, it's all YOUR FAULT!"

(Don't push it, lady. Please don't push it.)

Every article of clothing she wanted had a sensor tag on it.

"What's taking so GODDAMN long? Are you (hic) RETARDED or something?"

"No ma'am."

"I want GIFT RECEIPTS with all that! Can you handle that or is it too (hic) HARD for 'ya?"

Just then, the PA system announced, "Attention Gord and Raylor Shoppers! It is now ten minutes to closing. Please bring all purchases to the nearest register. Thank you."

"OH SHIT!", screamed BQU. "I need to get something for the KIDS!"

(I don't know which shocked me more: the fact that somebody had actually and willingly had sex with her, or the fact that she had waited until now to think of her children.)

"Do you have TOYS here? Why am I asking YOU? You're like OLD and shit!"

Then, to anyone within earshot, "Does anybody in this whole COCKSUCKING place know if they sell TOYS?"

I told her that the children's section was fifty feet behind her.

"YOU are RUINING my children's CHRISTMAS! Are you HAPPY? Does that make you HAPPY?"

Then she started sobbing hysterically and threw EVERYTHING onto the floor.

"FUCK YOU! YOU PICK ALL THIS UP, WRAP IT AND DELIVER IT TO MY HOUSE BY MIDNIGHT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? MID-NIGHT! MY CHILDREN WILL BE WAITING!"

And she lurched away, only to return seconds later to retrieve her handbag.

"MID-NIGHT", she hissed.

That night, at my sister-in-law's annual party, I hugged my wife especially tight and whispered in her ear, "I love you forever."

She laughed. "What's that for?"

"Just because, Baby. Just because."

--Joe

 

Holidays + Burgers = Bitchy Custys

From The Retail Hell Underground's blogger Burger Bitch:

ever thought I would say that I’m happy the Holidays are over; people are extra EXTRA crazy during the Holidays.

First off, two men come in a few days ago, both smelling disgustingly of WAYTOOMUCHFUCKINGAXETHERE.

Man One: What do you deep fry your bacon in? Because if it’s not Vegetable oil, I don’t want any!

Me: ... Uuh, we don’t deep fry our bacon, we grill it...

Man One: Alright then, I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger and a Pepsi. Is your Pepsi at room temperature, because if it’s not I DON’T WANT IT.

Me: No, it’s not...

Man Two: HOW DO YOU EXPECT PEOPLE TO DRINK COLD PEPSI?

At that point, my supervisor walks up and heard that, she actually asked them if they were joking, because she thought for sure that they were.

They then proceeded to be giant tools throughout the entire order, Man Two demanded that he wanted a tomato, but he wanted four of them cut up into cubes ._.

On Wednesday, it was constantly busy, literally lined up straight to the door all day.
Since I wasn’t busy in Drive Thru, I was grabbing the drinks for the garnishers and helping out in the kitchen whenever I could.

The new garnisher was working that day, and for a new girl, she was doing great.
I was grabbing her drinks when a customer starts freaking out at her for being slow.

Me: She’s just learning.

Older Woman: I DON’T GIVE A SHIT. I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR FOREVER AND SHE’S SLOW.

Me: If you see that the line is to the door, why get in it in the first place? =/ You obviously know that you’ll be waiting a while. She is trying her best, she’s been here since eight AM and she’s only worked about four shifts, give her a break.

Then, somewhere in the distance someone yells;

“CAN’T YOU READ YOU CRUSTY OLD BITCH? HER NAME TAG SAYS JUST LEARNING, SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

I told him he was my best friend <3

Happy New Year everyone c:

Burger Bitch

 

Coupon Retail Hell

Sent to Retail Hell Underground, from Eric:

The store at which I work accepts coupons printed off the internet, but *NOT* photocopied coupons of same, even though both may be in black and white.

So this one customer brings a few home-printed coupons in, all in color except one glaring counterexample.

 

Me: "Hmmm."

 

She: (semi-impatiently) "What's the problem with THAT coupon?"

 

Me: "I'm not sure if this one was photocopied or just printed. I'll have to get it verified from customer service."

 

She: "But it isn't a photocopy! See the other one? It has a different PIN number!"

 

At this point, she has already shattered her own logic. Leaving aside the pleonasm of "PIN number", she could have photocopied a different coupon that she didn't bring with. And I don't see how the PIN has anything to do with this-- for all I know, we take ones with identical PINs! I call up the service desk and jabber about it.

 

Service Desk Woman: "I'll need to see the coupons. Have your bagger bring them up to the desk." *CLICK*

 

Eh? What? I have a bagger? Shouldn't the SDW be hauling her admittedly ample posterior over here? This is a customer problem and should be dealt with directly.

 

So I wait a few seconds for my bagger to get back from whatever he was doing (probably practicing NOT picking his nose; he's getting good at it), during which the fail trolley's conductor blew some steam.

 

She: "I don't have all day. You have to take this coupon, if you don't, then you don't value my business, I'll just go elsewhere." (I could HEAR those were all commas. Clearly she was not a well-punctuated person.)

 

Finally the bagger returns, and is dispatched with the similar good and bad coupons. Almost immediately I get the call.

 

SDW: "Well, we will take the first one, but the second one is definitely photocopied and we can't take it."

 

Me: "Thanks." *CLICK*

 

She: "I heard that! IT'S NOT PHOTOCOPIED! THE PIN NUMBERS MATCH!"

 

Of course her entire order was nulled and void out of sheer anger and pretzel logic. However, her husband, having his own order and similar (but all in color) coupons, was rang up with silent and swift dispatch with no problem whatsoever.

 

But not before the entire register locked up. More than $10 of coupons had been removed from her order, which required an override from Service Desk Woman, who was now going to HAVE to haul ass no matter what. And she wouldn't come out at first! Three pagings were necessitated before she consented to drop by.

 

SDW: "Why won't this override work?"

 

Me: "I'm not sure; it says 'Manager's Key is Required'..."

 

SDW (snappy): "Well, did you take off all the coupons?"

 

Me: "Yes." (scrolls back through the list of items) "There they are."

 

SDW proceeds to get more belligerent and unreasonable with each attempt at turning the manager's key into the 'R' position, or whatever letter it was.

 

Me: "I had removed a couple of items before the override, could that be the problem?"

 

She: "Oh, please hurry up."

 

SDW (glares menacingly-- at ME) "We'll have to cash it out and credit the drawer." (beneath her breath) "I hope you're happy."

 

How absolutely nice of her. Somehow this is all my fault. Well, I'll just go off and kill myself, shall I? Maybe next time I'll take the bad coupons, we'll not make payroll, have to lay off the baggers not adept at not nose-picking, and, um, the orders will take longer to finish because I'll have to bag them.

 

As SDW was leaving, presumably back to her hidey-hole, our semi-unfriendly customer asked her why *I* wouldn't take the coupon. As if I hadn't explained it already. I didn't hear what SDW said in reply, but it was probably the usual "Store policy, Ma'am" or something else with an apostrophe in it like "Photocopy, Bit'ch!"

 

It was Xeroxed(tm), of course. It could have been printed in black and white, but then the watermark on the right would have been a bunch of black dots, instead of the grey-toned glaring error it was.

 

Today also had another customer in a hurry, but he brooked no nonsense with coupons; he merely growled in impatience, insolence and snatching change out of my hand. Nothing much to be concerned about; a potential road rage casualty, no more.

 

 

Eric

 

Retail Hell Haggy Bitch Scare

From Sisu on Retail Hell Underground:

I think once I'm done with retail, I'll be an anthropologist. It's not like I'll notice the lack of pay and dealing with shitty conditions.

I have to share this story about a brain dead bitch of a customer.

She started out a sweet yet somewhat high strung old lady.

That should have been a warning sign.

Well, she needed a coaxial cable. Not a problem, we have about a million, so I showed her our stock and helped her pick one out. Then she needed a connector. We have two types, the feed-thru and the twist on.

She picks up the twist on type and starts to walk away. I figure she's done and out of my hair when she stops me. WHY?

"I need the kind of connector where you thread it through."

 

I held up the feed-thru connector. "That would be the feed-thru kind."

 

"NO! THAT IS NOT IT!" she yelled at me. "It has to connect the coax cables."

 

"That's the point of this CONNECTOR," I told her.

 

"No, no, you aren't listening to me! It has to feed thru it and connect it. GOD, why can't you get it right?"

 

WTF?

 

"Ma'am, this is a FEED-THRU CONNECTOR. You FEED it THROUGH to CONNECT coaxial cables. This is what you are looking for!" I said, trying very hard to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

 

She rolled her eyes at me. "Fuck you, you don't just don't know what I'm talking about. Isn't there anyone who knows anything?"

 

I rolled my eyes back at her. "Ma'am, this is exactly what you need based on what you are telling me. If you can't explain it to me, I cannot help you."

 

She walked away muttering about me "just not getting it".

 

-sisu