Retail Hell The Book

Breakroom Hell

Where are the paintball guns when you need them?

Sent in from a Kohl's Slave whose identity shall remain protected by RHU's Secret Retail Slave Wittness Program.

Angel Spawn's Random Act of Retail Kindness

From Retail Hell Underground Blogger Spritzy:

The other day in line at the check-out I encountered a wonderful rarity, an Angel-Spawn.

Now we're all well aware of the Hell-Spawn who rip through the checkout candy, trample tabloids, and scream for every toy and treat on the shelf only to have their atrocious parental units pat them on the head and say there-there, don't worry...the little retail-slave-girl will clean up your mess.

Ugh.

But today was different, the customer in front of me had two children who were probably twins and couldn't be more than three. They stood next to her and didn't say a word, didn't grab for the chocolate, didn't whine or scream or cry.

Then the little girl noticed that there was a candy bar on the floor; now a Hell-Spawn probably would have stomped it or maybe even just opened it and started munching.

Not this little girl, she picked it up and looked carefully back and forth across the boxes of candy until she found it's correct spot and put it right where it belonged.

Her mom noticed her looking at the candy and told her not to touch anything and I told the mom that she was putting away one that fell on the floor and that she was a good kid.

Let's clone kids like these shall we?

--Spritzy

  

10 Ways To Make Retail Hell Borderline Fun

From Retail Hell Underground Blogger, Depot Demon:

1. While throwing out trash, pretend that you are a secret agent destroying evidence (more effective if you hum the "mission impossible" theme)

2. Throughout the day, speak in different accents whenever you can get away with it

3. If you get "work lists", pretend that each task is a quest, and by completing a task, you are X% done with the game

4. If you get injured, don't say you're getting a band aid, say you're going to the healer.

5. Slink about the aisles pretending you are a ninja and are looking for your target.

6. Imagine what would happen if you turned your store into a paint ball field.

7. When asked where something is tell them its 2 aisles further than where it actually is. (Not to be done near management)

8. Work on your juggling skills with whatever stock you can get away with dropping.

9. Make up stuff about a product and see if a customer catches on (for example; 'yes this product is microwaveable and can withstand a zombie attack)

10. Stalk a person around the store, and do your damnedest to not get caught.

*Bonus for the ones who cashier:

Give customers the smallest bills possible, especially if they pay in change (I don't cashier so I have no idea what its like on the front end, but I sympathize)

                    *                    *                    *                    

Of course, I don't want anyone to get fired, because we all know as much as we hate the Hell, we need the money.

However the stalking of the customer could be looked at  as "ensuring that the crustomer receives excellent customer service" (I almost gagged while typing that) and could get you a raise...Amy ways, hope this helps even a little bit.

Love,
DepotDemon

Burger Bitch: Twat Day

From Retail Hell Underground's blogger Burger Bitch:

First off, I'm hoping you all had a lube filled Valentine's Day, and that you played safe.

However, today was Twat Day and I wasn't notified until the very last minute.

I'm just getting over the stomach flu, so I'm still a bit groggy, tired and my patience level is at an all time low.

The very first order I take in Drive Thru was this rude, Jamaican bitch.

I could barely understand a word she was saying until she screamed in my fucking face. I finally get her order out (Three minutes later than it should have been because she changed her mind, twice.)

I hand her the bag, tell her to have a nice day, and get on with the next order.

Now, our window is kind of challenged at the moment, you have to slam it, and since it's, y'know, WINTER, I like to keep the window shut. So I shut the window and move on to the next order. She honks her horn, I open the window.

Her: I SAID I WANTED SOME KETCHUP AND DON'T SLAM THE FUCKING WINDOW AT ME.

Me: We have to slam it, it's broken, and there's already ketchup in your bag -Monotone voice-

Her: I want a CUP for it!

She also had those crazy fake nails that you only see in porno's (Don't kid yourself, you know what I'm talking about.)

I get her a cup, she tells me to fill it myself because she doesn't have the time to open all the packets.

Yeah? And I don't have time for your fucking shenanigans. I gave her an empty cup an locked the window.

So, when I filled out the void, I put "Customer was a douchebag." as the reason, and head office can suck it when they see it.

Then I grabbed an order on cash while I wasn't busy, and it took me ten fucking minutes because the dumb bitch didn't know what she wanted to drink.

Her: I'll have a large chocolate milk.

Me: Sorry, we're actually out of the large chocolate and white milks.

Her: Ok, a large white milk then.

Me: ... We're out of those..

Her: A Tonic Water then.

Me: Sorry, we don't have tonic water.

Her: WELL, WHAT DO YOU HAVE.

Huge Sign: -Shows the drinks-

Me: That shows all of the drinks right there.

Her: And you want me to READ all of that?

Poor cupcake, you have to spend all of your energy reading. Aaws.

I should have given her the stomach flu, ignorant dillhole.

--BB

Kerry's Nightmare Part 19: Valentines Day Piggy Hell

No love in Retail Hell on Valentines Day. This is what I walked into. No one was there all fucking day and I had to close ALONE.

Go back hell and remnants of a Piggy stampede.

 

VD Shopping Therapy for a broken-hearted Custy: Try on the whole fucking store and leave a huge mess for me to clean up.

The piggies that are too lazy to mess up the fitting rooms.

Valentines Day Night was anything but sweet for me. We closed at 9, but because the place was such a disaster from all these heartless piggies, I didn't leave until 10:20. Fuck Valentines Day in Retail Hell. I drank heavily.

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."

Burger Bitch: Trapped on Dumbass Street

I’m not sure if there’s some form of Idiot fumes in the air or what’s going on, but customers and managers seem to be getting more and more retarded.

My manager just hired THREE more people, even though we have more than enough people now, my hours were already cut by half, so I had to take any extra shifts that came up just so I could do groceries, pay my phone bill and pay for Karate.

The customers today must have all came from Dumbass Street in Retard Town, the first two came in and ordered burgers.

I asked if they wanted them by themselves or in combos, they both refused the combos because “They weren’t hungry.”

I asked if that was everything and they go “Oh, and two fries and two Pepsi’s”

... Uuuh. I ask, “So, you want the combos then?”

“NO, WE DON’T WANT THE COMBOS.”

Alright, fine, so I didn’t put them in combos, which makes them about two dollars or so more expensive than the combos.

When I told them the price, they got even more snippy, but paid it.

I don’t give a shit, not my money.

Shortly afterwords, I’m waiting for a customer to, I assumed, make up his mind.

He’s just standing there, not really doing anything, so I say “I can help you over here.”

But he just kind of looks at me and keeps staring at my co-worker who was helping people at the other cash.

I stand there for a good five minutes and he still doesn’t budge.

I end up going to the back to grab a drink, when I come back, my supervisor tells me that the customer was upset that I didn’t take his order.

UUUUH.

I stood there for five fucking minutes and he didn’t come over to me, what was I supposed to do? Read his fucking mind?

AND THEN THE FINALE.

Three minutes before my shift ends (Yes, I was staring at the clock and counting) there’s a short line, maybe six people.

A woman orders, I ask her if that’s everything, but no, her husband has to order too. 

And then... –Jaws music-

... his cell phone goes off.

It’s like that moment in a movie everything stands still and you’re at the edge of your seat, just about crapping yourself with anticipation.

But sure enough, he answers his cell phone.

I ask her: “Would it be ok if I voided this out for now and took other customers orders?”

She replies: “Oh no, he’ll just be a sec.”

A sec turned into TEN FUCKING MINUTES.

I had to call someone else up to take orders on the other cash.

Do people not fucking realize that they’re wasting other people’s life?

IS THAT PHONE CALL REALLY THAT IMPORTANT?

Dshv bcxnmkjghhgk.l

Burger Bitch

Kerry's Nightmare Part 17: Piggy Shopper Grossness

From Retail Hell Underground Blogger Kerry:

EEEEEEEEEEEW! Someone left a nasty bandaid in my fucking denim wall yesterday! The garbage can is LITERALLY 4 FUCKING FEET AWAY!! WTF??!!!!?!

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