Having The Last Laugh Over A Preachy Custy
From FLGlamazon on Retail Hell Underground:
Help!
I had the most ass-inine old bag try to work on my last nerve & then some.
Being a sole employee at my store means I can't just shuffle off and leave crazy bitches alone. Nor do they ever leave me alone- especially when my lunch is in full view.
The bitch yesterday was a full on "I talk to myself 24/7- and then bug you with my inane yammering 24/7" type.
Let's call her Blabzilla.
She came in and spent 45 minutes telling me how she has to buy new clothes because of how much weight she has lost (umm, good for you old titless/assless wonder- you have succeeded into turning yourself into a 10 year old boy).
I had to hear about what great taste she has (uhhh, paging the "I dress like most of the kids wearing ugly school uniforms" department), and how everyone else seems to dress like a stripper nowadays.
Siggghhh, attempt to ignore/eat.
THEN Blabzilla tries to tell me in a loud voice "You should change your diet- that's how I lost all this weight, I only eat fruits and veggies", blah blah- then she mentions the biggest quack Doctor in town who gave her said diet.
I smiled and said:
"Hmm, I'll have to Google him- hey maybe you should too, since you are a fan and all."
I'd love to be thee to see her face fall when she sees the search page is full of "beware of the horrible rip off doc" articles.
--FLGlamazon
Easter Ham Customer Teaches 5 Year old to Name-call when she doesn't get her way
From Retail Hell Underground:
Hey all! Long time reader, blah blah blah. You can call me Nyl. I've worked in retail most of my adult life, but this story isn't about me. It comes from my mother-in-law who works part time in a grocery store.
Crazy Bitch (placing a spiral ham on the meat case): Can you slice this for me?
Deli Slave: It's already sliced, ma'am.
CB: Can you slice it for me?
DS: It comes pre-sliced, ma'am. That's what a spiral ham is.
CB: Yeah but I need it cut.
DS: Ma'am, it's a pre-cooked, pre-sliced ham. It's already cut for you.
CB (to small boy in cart): He's an asshole.
DS: O_O
CB (back to DS, speaking very slowly): It won't fit in my pot. I need it cut.
DS (not about to do her any favors): Well ma'am, just cut it through the bone and freeze what you don't use.
CB (to the Deli Manager standing a few feet away): Can you slice this for me?
DM: Ma'am, as he just told you, it comes pre-sliced. If it's too big you can either cut through the bone or get a smaller ham.
CB: Asshole. (Again, to small boy) He's an asshole too. They're all assholes here.
I mean, really? All I could do was shake my head. That poor little boy.
Until next time!
Happy
--Nyl
Bitch Encounter In Jewelry Department
From Retail Hell Underground by Care Plan Pimp:
Hey everybody,
During the weeks after Christmas, my jewelry department gets a lot of returns. I admit, if my family picked out jewelry for me, I'd probably return it too. However the combination of stupid customers and complicated policies make returning jewelry a big pain.
The reason I'm writing is a customer that reached new levels of custy hysteria. Now, I didn't witness this. Only people trained in jewelry is supposed to return jewelry, but no one else seems to know this until I yell at them, so it happened on my break. A woman came in with a gold diamond pendant and wanted to return it for cash. She had a gift receipt, but she would only get store credit, and that was NOT GOOD ENOUGH!
Also, the woman was ranting the whole time about her mother's choice in jewelry.
“I don't wear gold, and I NEVER wear necklaces, what was she thinking buying me these!!”
My coworker works in home fashions, so why she was yelling at him for that I don't know.
Anyway, she wanted her money back so she could buy the necklace she wants at a real jewelry store. She freaked out because gift receipts would only give her store credit.
“Why would I want a gift card?! I would never buy anything here!”
Well sorry lady, but you're the one with the gift receipt and that's how they've worked since the dawn of retail. So she called her mother and put my coworker on the phone to get her credit card number. Next Christmas, her mother should just give her an envelope full of cash. They finish the return, end of story, except me coming back from break and being greeted with a return done wrong, without tags, without being tested to make sure they were still real diamonds, and not locked up.
However, his mistake might have been a blessing in disguise. If I had to tell that woman that I couldn't return her necklace without tags, her rage might have might have caused a sonic boom consuming most of eastern Iowa.
--Care Plan Pimp
Three Hour Shit Storm Hits Fabric Store
Hi all, Swatchbuckler here again. Thanks for reading my last post, loved it or hated it I had to do what I had to do.
Today was a shitstorm of a day and I just have to rant about it. Everything that I hate that people do in this store happened today.
In 3 hours.
- Foam. Goddamn foam. You know that foam that you use to pad chairs and couches? Well we get a lot of people coming in for it. We used to carry it but it takes up a lot of room, a biatch to cut and easily damaged. It costs us money to carry so we don't. We are full to the brim with fabric and we simply do not have the space.
Anyway. A woman comes in today looking for foam. I say "I'm sorry we don't carry it but there is a foam place 4 miles from here that will cut it to your needs. Let me give you their card."
She then stares at me like I have lobsters coming out of my ears and says "You don't have foam?"
"No ma'am, I'm sorry we don't."
She then continues to look at me like I am suddenly going to pull the foam out of my bra or something.
"Well why don't you have foam? This is a fabric store, right?"
"Yes ma'am we sell fabric."
Ugh.
- We have been in business over 60 years so we have a lot of fabric. Tons of it. So our prices are very, very low.
For example, a Waverly fabric at Joann's is $16.99 a yard but at our store the same fabric is $6 a yard. All our fabrics are like that. We have fabrics that retail for $135 a yard that we sell for $25.
At least 20 times a day I hear "Can you do better on the price?"
No, I can't because then we are giving away the fabric. They then claim that they saw it somewhere else for half off the other day somewhere else. I always think, "Then why didn't you buy it then?" but always, always they end up purchasing the fabric anyway.
- There are 2 of us that work at the store. Customers love to play us off each other and they always lose.
A customer will go to my coworker and ask the price and then ask me and then tell me that he said it was lower. So I always call out to him them and ask. Then they argue that he told them the lower price.
I wonder if people pull this shit at like Macy's or whatever.
- Swatches. When we give swatches we take a small piece of the bolt. So sometimes there is a little slice taken from a fabric someone is buying. Even though there are signs ALLOVER the store stating we measure from that part (meaning they get extra fabric) custys always, always say something. Some have asked me to cut that piece off.
I mean seriously you are getting extra fabric and you want me to cut it off? Really?!? Some have asked me to measure from the other end. OMG, you have got to be kidding me.
So you want me to unroll 100 yards of fabric so you don't get extra fabric. Now these swatches are like 2x2 inch. I swear this pisses me off more than anything.
- Hellspawn. A fabric store is NOT a playground. Some of the bolts weigh 200 pounds and wouldn't be fun to be under when they fall. Letting your children run around it not safe and not to mention extremely annoying. Don't look at me like I'm the asshole when I tell you that your kid isn't safe running around.
We actually had a woman give her baby some of our buttons to SUCK ON. I told her that those buttons are Bakelite and full of formaldehyde and not good for the kid. She looked at me like I slapped her. God forbid that I give a shit about your kid.
- Just because you are paying with cash does not make you special. Everyone pays tax. DEAL WITH IT.
- Sometimes manufacturers send fabric in pieces. This happens a lot in rolls of over 100 yards.
Today I was measuring a piece for a woman and there was a 3 yard piece on the roll. I took it off and put it aside and then I went to measure her piece. I measure her piece and then she gets angry at me for not getting that 3 yard piece for free. I asked her why and she told me that it was a remnant and she should get it. I told her no that is a 3 yard piece, not a swatch so no you are not getting it.
I have actually caught people pulling fabric of the roll and telling us that it's a remnant and that they should get a discount. Eh, no. I have also caught people trying to rip or pull at fabrics to get a discount.
What I don't understand is that since we are a mom and pop store, the nicer you are to us the nicer we are to you. If we say hello when you come in and you ignore us we are not going to go out of our way to help you. There aren't prices on a lot of our fabric because with all the tubes that go back and forth it's a hassle. We make the prices so if you are a bitch, we aren't going to go out of our way to help you.
One of our biggest joys is helping people. We have fixed projects people bring us and they are in tears because it won't work. We've fixed sewing machines with no charge. We have delivered fabric to peoples houses because they are home bound. We are very proud of our customer service but if you are a jerk then I'm sorry you won't get that side.
I'm spent. Thanks for readin!
--Swatchbuckler
Crazy Customer Calls Cosmetics Counter For A Phone Book
Hi, this is my first time submitting but I've been reading for a looooong time. It really is very cathartic some days to come home and read your blog and know that I am NOT alone. Good lord, 7 years as a Cosmetic Slave and I do have some righteous stories to tell.
Here is one that I think demonstrates just how insanely RETARDED fucking people are some times:
I'm at work manning the cashwrap area when the phone rings, naturally, I answer it and greet the caller on the other line.
Me: "Hello thanks for calling Big Name Beauty Retailer. How can I help you?"
Dumbass: "Hi, I need a phone number"
Me: "Sure Miss, what can I assist you with"
Dumbass: "Do you have a phone book there?"
Me: "Which one of our stores were you looking for the number of? I have a list of them right here."
Dumbass: "Its not one of your stores. Do you have a phone book?"
Me: "No I'm sorry, I don't have a phone book"
Dumbass: "Do you think you could go get one somewhere?"
Me: (now clearly confused) "No, I don't have access to a phone book" (I actually didn't, that wasn't a lie. We didn't have one on hand) "What exactly are you calling for?"
Dumbass: "I need a phone number and I was hoping you could look it up for me. I don't have a phone book"
Me: "You need a phone book of a completely different establishment?"
Dumbass: "Yes"
Me: "And you're calling our store to ask someone to look it up for you?" (At this point, I am seriously chomping at the bit to call her out for being a complete retard)
Dumbass: "Yes"
Me: "Why didn't you call 411?"
Dumbass: "There is a charge for that."
Me: "Well, I'm sorry but I don't have a phone book and I'm not 411 so I would suggest you call 411 for the phone number of the establishment you're looking to call. Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaanks". *CLICK*
Really, who is THAT FUCKING STUPID? Who on earth calls random businesses and asks them to LOOK UP PHONE NUMBERS for other COMPLETELY UNRELATED BUSINESSES? I thought it was some sort of Crank Yankers thing going on but I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was completely fucking serious.
Dumbass
--Cosmetic Slave
Return Hell: Joe's Crazy Bitch Encounter
From Retail Hell Underground blogger Joe:
Hello all!
I'm glad to see we all survived Christmas more or less unscathed. That being said, some recent posts here on RHU reminded me of something my son, the cop, once said:
"Dad, it's the best way to meet the public: heavily armed and wearing body armor."
This year, as opposed to last, I was READY for the last-minute crazies, the NAT's, the shrieks of mortal agony coming from Santa's Village and the earwig that is "Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. The very next day, you gave it away...". AAAARRRGGHH!
Sorry. I kinda lost my mind there. I'm better now. Anyway, as we all know, for every action, there is an equal and opposite RE-action. After the purchasing of tons of merchandise, comes the RETURNING of said merchandise.
Most of these transactions took less than 30 seconds:
- Custy presents receipt.
- Custy pulls item out of bag.
- I scan receipt and item.
- I say, "This will put $xx.xx back on your credit card."
- I staple original and return receipts together and present them to custy.
- "Thank you for shopping at Gord & Raylor. Have a great day!"
-FINIS-
Buuuut...then SHE walked in!
After you've been dealing with the public for a while, you know how you just KNOW someone's gonna be trouble? Well I got that feeling BIGTIME when I spotted HER. All I can say is that it must be akin to Spidey Sense.
Her hair was jet black and held in place in a classic Liz Taylor-as-Cleopatra 'do. In fact, Cleo must have been her inspiration, because she had WAAAAAY too much eye makeup on. I thought, "Honey, the casting for Night Of The Living Dead is OVER!"
The next things I noticed were her leopard-print coat and patent-leather boots marching (click-click-click) right on over to my register.
"I'm returning dees." (a $400 suit and several sweaters featuring a man-on-horseback logo)
"Yes ma'am. May I see your receipt?"
"Vhut?"
"Your receipt. May I see it please?"
"I DON'T HAVE RECEIPT! YOU PUT PRICE BACK ON CARD NOW!"
(Are you kidding me? You go to DefCon 4 when I ask for your RECEIPT?)
"Alright ma'am, may I have the card?"
"I don't HAVE card! You look up card number NOW!"
"Ma'am, for YOUR safety, sales associates can't access customers' credit card numbers."
At this point, she does the eye-roll and the forced exhale. "I'm not gung to waste my TIME with you! Call the Store Manager NOW! (Right to the Triple Dog Dare! I'm impressed!) I called the Manager and explained the situation: no receipt, no price tags, no credit card, and the piece-de-resistance, no I.D.! The manager quite rightly says, "NO return!"
Well, girlfriend goes absolutely APE-shit! She pounds on the glass display case. (I fully expected it to shatter.) She looks around for an audience, and spotting a few folks nearby, launches into a performance worthy of the Barrymores.
"You SEE how dey treat people here? Do you SEE? They are liars and THIEVES here! They CHEAT you and STEAL YOUR MONEY! They are RUDE and STUPID here! They are...NO GOOD!" (That last bit was said with such vehemence that she nearly pitched over!) "YOU. GET. STORE. MANAGER. HERE...NOW!!!"
"No."
"WHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?"
"I said no. My manager has already told me not to accept the return. Now please step aside. Who's next?"
And the next person in line quickly put their merchandise on the counter. It was fun to watch Cleo stand there and sputter: "Vhut? Vhut? Vhut? Vhut? Vhut?"
If it had ended there, I would have been a very happy man. But she wasn't done by a long shot. She continued to harangue passersby for about ten minutes. Then she shot me The Look Of Death and stormed (click-click-click) downstairs to the executive offices. Ten minutes later, she was back with the Store Manager. Luckily, I was at the register at the ass-end of the department. But I could still hear "...RUDE!...STEAL!...FIRE!...
"I. SHOP. HERE. NO. MORE!"Oh, if only I could have stayed back by the mens shoes and socks until the whole thing worked it way out, but no. The Manager sought me out and explained that She-Beast had the pickup slip from the pre-sale for all the items in question. (Before we have the Super-Duper Really Big Sale, we offer damn near everything at the sale price. You can pre-purchase stuff, but you can't actually take it with you until the day the sale starts.) Using her managerial override, she was able to backtrack the store records and discover price and SKU numbers for everything.
So...Cleo got her money. And what good is Victory if you can't shove somebody's face in it?
(click-click-click-click-click)
"I GOT MY MONEY! I GOT MY MONEY! YOU ARE NOTHING! NOTHING!! YOU ARE JUST A...A...PERSON! YOU...YOU...(hissing)WORK FOR A LIVING!!!"
Guilty as charged, honey. Guilty as charged.
...and the dance goes on.
Peace.
--Joe the Cigar Guy
Queer Geek's Race Card Playin' N.A.T.
Hello from the RHU!
Queer Geek again with another group of crazy custy stories from the Big Fancy store! It must have been a full moon out because the nutjobs came out of the woodwork in droves.
I barely got to my department to clock in when who should show up?
Miss Scary-On Pigs!
Now if you read one of my previous posts about NATS (Nasty Ass Thieves) you'll remember her, she came in and gave me one of her junkie smiles as if I have to accept her questionable returns. With a bit of sigh, I took one look like at her pile of crap on the counter and immediately inhaled the familiar aroma of the druggie smell emitting from the all the clothes she was returning. (Oh fuck me!)
As I dug into her pile of used goods which torn tickets, no tickets at all, tickets not matching the item, merchandise so old that looked like they came from their great grandmother’s attic, to items so used to the point that it looks like pile of rags that I informed Miss Scary-On Pigs that I need to call a manager to approve this return.
At this point, this crackheaded junkie got all paranoid.
“Why you’s needs ta call da manager?” asked Miss Scary-On Pigs. “Shet, them’s stuff gots all da tags! Just give me ma’ cash for dem!”
“I’m sorry mam but some of the merchandise is outdated that it has been discontinued with the company. Our system cannot recognize the merchandise any longer and since some time has past, the full value of your merchandise does decrease. I really don’t know how much we’re going to give you for these items.” I explain this to her because quite frankly items do depreciate over time. However, Miss Scary-On Pigs does not comprehend this.
At this point her companion comes in. A woman who I wish to refer to as Wannabe. Let me describe Wannabe. Remember Vanilla Ice and how he wished he was of a different race? Well that is Wannabe. Wannabe got the look down to a tee. From the multicolored weave, hip hop speech, and Ghetto Press On Talons on her fingers she just might be one of those guests on Maury Povich and Jerry Springer. Well Wannabe feels the need to defend her friend’s honor by putting her two cents. (Fuck me twice here!)
“What’s da problem?” asked Wannabe. “She’s gots da tickets. I knows The Big Fancy policy that ya’ can return shet. No questions asked. Just gives her da money!” (Talk to the hand bitch cause the ears aren't listening.)
I politely tell Wannabe that The Big Fancy has no formal return policy so returns are done on a case to case basis but both women weren’t hearing it so luckily a manager on duty arrived on the scene to save me from these two who tells them exactly the same thing I just told them.
“I’m sorry but these items have been discontinued with the company so it no longer has any value to it. Plus you don’t have any proper proof of purchase,” the manager replied.
“What ya’ mean? Ya’ gots da’ tickets on right there!” Miss Scary-On Pigs points out. “Just gimme da cash!”
“I’m sorry Miss but again there is not any information here to process this return. All the items here have been discontinued since it has been so many years since we've carried them so I can’t give you a fair price on these things. I would need a proper proof of purchase,” he tells them.
“This is bullshet!” Miss Scary-On Pigs. “I knows ya’s policy. Ya’s can return shet! I paid cash for it. Ya’s all are racist cuz I’m black!”
“That’s right,” interrupts Wannabe. “Ya’s are racist cuz we’s black!”
Now that is calling the kettle black coming from Wannabe who obviously who has watched to many Eminem videos. Luckily the manager has some quit wit and responds to the race card comment.
“Ma'am, don’t play race card with me,” he tells them. “It doesn’t work here. As you can see I’m a minority too so you can't use that on me but if you want me to take this stuff back all I can give you is the last price and right now we’re looking at a grand total of a whole dollar since each one is now worth a penny now. As for the policy, WE DON’T HAVE A WRITTEN POLICY so we can make it up as we go along.”
“THAT’S BULLSHET!” Miss Scary-On Pigs screeches. “YA’S RACIST! ALL YA’LL! NOBODY’S GONNA SHOP HERE NO MO’ AFTER I’S TELLS EVERYONE THIS STORE’S RACIST!”
My manager politely tells the customer to please leave to which Wannabe drags Miss Scary-On Pigs away but not before issuing a threat.
“I’S TELLS CORPORATE! YA’LL BE FIRED FO’ BEING RACIST!”
“That’s fine mam,” he tells her. “You have my name and business card. Tell them I sent you.”
I laugh at his statement but sadly it would be a matter of time before Miss Scary-On Pigs returns and starts this whole drama all over again.
Sure enough, she came back the following month and some other manager took back her stuff at a reasonable discounted price. (Fuck me three times and sell my soul to Satan.)
I hate NATS!
--Queer Geek
Return Hell: The 70s Frying Pan Show
Hi there fellow RHUers!
I'm new to the site but I absolutely love it. I've been in different forms of retail for the last four years, and I currently work for a store with a giant star as their logo that rhymes with "Stacey's."
So since everyone else seems to have a nickname I guess you can call me Stacey's Hellper.
As you all know there's a fuck ton of returns going on right now since the holidays are over but I could not believe what happened the other day.
A woman came in with a set of three frying pans she wanted to return that she bought THIRTY EIGHT YEARS AGO.
She had never even used them and decided that she wanted to return just one of them because it had a spot on it.
Now our official policy is all returns must be within 14 days of the purchase, but my managers are like fucking jellyfish so they give in to any customers demands. So basically this lady ended up keeping two of her pans and getting one pan from another set that we had in the store.
So I just wanted to share that crazy store with all of you, I'm sure I'll be back with more stories soon.
--Stacey's Hellper
There is a hell on earth and it's called retail! And I like to take a little Jack with mine! What about you?
- Freeman
FREEMAN AS FREDDY
My alter ego is a masked skull named Freddy and I've gone underground to create a safe haven for Retail Slaves to rant, bitch, and laugh. If you work in retail this is the place for you. Click on the banner and join the underground!
