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--"Do you have any coupons right now?" Yes, I do. I have lots of coupons that other customers who brought them from home used. No, you cannot use one just because you asked. You need to have one in order to use one. Well, I'm sorry you feel that way. Just reflexively asking "do you have a coupon" is equal to "can I have a discount just because I'm asking" to me. This isn't a loving flea market. The price is the price unless you have a coupon then it's less. I'm not loving negotiating with you. --Speaking of that, we are a big box retail store and we had a guy try to haggle with us over 2 x-box 360 controllers we have on clearance. He wanted both of them for the price of what one of them was marked. My manager politely told him to gently caress off. bravesword posted:The music itself wasn't too bad -- not really my thing, but easy enough to tune out. One of the songs on the list, though, was this one, which is absolutely not the kind of thing you want to hear when you're 27 years old and wandering around a small-town Wal-Mart at 10 pm on a Friday trying to find a pallet jack that isn't broken or in use so you can pull the truck. --My store is fond of playing "9 to 5" by Dolly Parton, and that "5 o'clock World" song about how awesome it is when you get off work and go home to your girl. It especially sucks when it's in the first hour of your shift. --"HOW MANY GODDAMN QUESTIONS DOES IT NEED TO ASK ME TO USE A DEBIT CARD?" Three. It asks you three. I'm sorry that's too much for you. Maybe rest that finger for the rest of the day with all the button-pushing you had to do. I feel so badly for you (presses literally 100 buttons for that transaction typing in UPC's and other poo poo). --Also apparently there are still retail unions? Please take me with you!!! -- grimcreaper posted:I can't wait to hear about how bad inventory went. Inventory was on Thursday and we started prepping Tuesday night. I'm gonna take a stab at the loss numbers being right around 2.3%. Our DC fails to send us a lot of merchandise. And you will have to stop more shrink with fewer bodies to do it. And word will get out and theives will come and target you. And you will be expected to stop them with just one person staffed on one side of the store who has to stock new merchandise and also set a new planogram. Yeah, we had a bad inventory, too. BigBallChunkyTime fucked around with this message at 19:25 on May 19, 2016 |
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May 19, 2016 18:42
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Beastie posted:RGIS is a bunch of cons that can't get a job doing anything but this. They work nights, and a a bunch of shady fucks. In all the RGIS crews I've ever dealt with, the recovering meth addict with the face tatoos was the supervisor because he was the best one.
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May 19, 2016 19:35
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I worked with RGIS once. The store manager had us pre-counting poo poo for weeks and they weren't allowed to count cigarettes, alcohol, or anything in a locked case. They also bitched endlessly about having to pay for their soda and chips. It's the last week of prom, thank god. It's also the worst because in addition to all the prom tuxes, one of the larger Catholic schools has their graduation this weekend and we're doing all 300+ tuxes. A coworker of mine cried three times today from stress, and the next rear end in a top hat who yells at one of my teenage coworkers is getting kicked out with no refund, I don't even care if the manager wants to fire me.
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May 19, 2016 21:46
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The amount of customers we get and when is apparent to anyone that works at our store. Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday ( after church ) are the busiest days of the week. In the evenings we see a surge that lasts from around four-thirty to seven-thirty, as people get off of work, buy the poo poo they need, and rush home to get ready for the next day at their lovely jobs. Our front end manager does not prepare for this. The customers blitzkrieg into the store like Operation Barbarossa, and she, caught totally off-guard, screams over the PA for every man, woman, and high-schooler to come to the defense of the Motherland. Only we don't have anybody. Every manager from every department, everyone below the store manager ends up on the front line. Two of them know how to work a til. One of them looked at me and asked, "Nerd, don't you have register codes?!" I laughed, smiled, and said, "Nope!" Cool Supervisor came over to me when all was said and done. He had the look of soldier that gone there and back again. This guy who's got more customer service ribbons than he can wear, this guy who's smooth as butter and loves to chat with everyone, he just walks up and says, "gently caress these people."
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May 20, 2016 14:13
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Some fuckass just came in to cancel his wedding through us because another place has a cheap polyester version w/o shoes of the tux he wants for fifty dollars cheaper, and then goes, "Oh, can you measure me before we go?" Put on my best customer smile and voice and told him that I'm sure the other place will be happy to measure him if he's getting his tuxes through them. gently caress all the way off rear end in a top hat, you just canceled a $1,500 wedding to save less than $30 per person.
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May 21, 2016 22:07
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Kickshaw posted:Some fuckass just came in to cancel his wedding through us because another place has a cheap polyester version w/o shoes of the tux he wants for fifty dollars cheaper, and then goes, "Oh, can you measure me before we go?" How dare someone want to make a saving. What a scumbag
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May 22, 2016 01:19
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reformed bad troll posted:How dare someone want to make a saving. How dare Kickshaw not want to work for free while making no money for the store. What a scumbag There seems to be this implicit expectation of service workers that they never should be aware of the bottom line even though everyone around them is.
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May 22, 2016 01:45
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reformed bad troll posted:How dare someone want to make a saving. Did you miss the part where he then expected free services in exchange for cancelling his order
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May 22, 2016 01:55
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You must lose your loving brain when you join corporate. Our store sells gas. Every time you buy stuff, you get points you can exchange for a discount. We just began a promo where we'll double your points on any purchase made on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. Simple, right? gently caress no. Last year we just had stickers on the register that you'd scan at the end of an order. This year? VERBOTEN BY ORDER OF THE GASTAPO. People must present a coupon from the store flyer, or go online and load it into their loyalty account. Physical coupons are to be scanned once, collected, and never used again. Here's how the end of every transaction went: "OK, your total is one-eighty five. Would you like me to double your fuel points?" "Yes." ( Who would say no?  )"OK," and then the cashier in question would launch into a canned spiel ( burned into my brain ), explaining the days where the event is active, how to get the points, all that garbage. And then she'd ask, "Do you have a voucher?" They never did. I saw over a hundred customers in one hour. You know how many had that drat coupon? One. One guy. Each cashier kept a stack of flyers beneath the register from which they had to tear out coupons by hand. Queue times are through the roof and we're already out of flyers for the week. I don't understand how this company is doing so well.
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May 22, 2016 02:24
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AbrahamLincolnLog posted:Did you miss the part where he then expected free services in exchange for cancelling his order That's basically it. If a guy comes in like, "hey I'm not ordering but just need my sizes for x reason," that's fine. But cancelling his wedding means we're down eight rentals on an almost disastrously slow wedding season, which means the owner yells at the manager about how we're underperforming, which means my hours get cut. So no, I'm not providing a free service to the guy who cancels his order, he can get the gently caress out and get measured at the place he's getting his tux. Kickshaw fucked around with this message at 03:04 on May 22, 2016 |
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May 22, 2016 03:01
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In that vein, it's loving great when somebody comes into my store and I spend 20 minutes basically walking them through how to fix their poo poo (whether it's plumbing or anything else) then they balk that our stuff is a couple bucks more than menard's. Like, gently caress you buddy. You'll be lucky to have somebody look at you over there, much less actually answer your stupid loving questions.
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May 22, 2016 03:05
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Kickshaw posted:he can get the gently caress out and get measured at the place he's getting his tux.
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May 22, 2016 07:10
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Kickshaw posted:That's basically it. If a guy comes in like, "hey I'm not ordering but just need my sizes for x reason," that's fine. But cancelling his wedding means we're down eight rentals on an almost disastrously slow wedding season, which means the owner yells at the manager about how we're underperforming, which means my hours get cut. So no, I'm not providing a free service to the guy who cancels his order, he can get the gently caress out and get measured at the place he's getting his tux. You guys couldn't just match the price?
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May 22, 2016 18:36
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Semprini posted:Was there not even a small part of you tempted to say "No bother, buddy!" and then write down plausible-but-wrong numbers so his tux is noticeably ill-fitting? Yeah he should have done this
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May 22, 2016 19:37
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Simprini posted:Was there not even a small part of you tempted to say "No bother, buddy!" and then write down plausible-but-wrong numbers so his tux is noticeably ill-fitting? So the tux doesn't fit, the employee looks bad and the store looks bad, the other employees at the other tux place look bad too, the customer (correctly) pitches a fit and probably gets a free or discounted tuxedo, and the bitchy little prank completely backfires and encourages the guy to be a dick because it worked out in his favor. Just saying "no" when you can is the best course of action. Petty bullshit just makes people worse.
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May 23, 2016 05:35
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So the tux doesn't fit, the employee looks bad and the store looks bad, the other employees at the other tux place look bad too, the customer (correctly) pitches a fit and probably gets a free or discounted tuxedo, and the bitchy little prank completely backfires and encourages the guy to be a dick because it worked out in his favor. Just saying "no" when you can is the best course of action. Petty bullshit just makes people worse. [/quote] I don't think either poster in your quote was sincerely suggesting that course of action. Most revenge fantasies remain just that, and we envision a Just World like in a movie where the customer is the only one slighted by the outcome and it works out fine for everyone else
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May 23, 2016 12:42
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Our store has a deli, and that deli sells rotisserie chickens. People love these chickens. The first birds hit the hot-shelf at 10AM and new ones keep landing until 5PM. One of our best selling items is a flimsy bag filled with hot grease. Yay. I may have moved away from the front end, but I've been seeing a lot of them. On the shelves. On top of things. Behind things. In the loving fridges, laid on frozen ( now thawed ) food. Every day turns into a Polish Easter egg hunt. The chickens ( and everything they ruin ) go into the trash. You might think sheer laziness was behind it all- but no. We have a number of customers that will spend upwards of an hour inside the store, circling, waiting for the chickens to fly off the shelves. Then they'll swoop over to the customer service desk. "You're out of chickens! You're always supposed to have them between 12 and 4! This is an outrage and I will continue to be a loud, stupid rear end in a top hat until I am appeased!" Only sometimes we don't run out, so they smuggle the drat birds all over the store and then go bitch and whine about how we don't have any.
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May 24, 2016 04:32
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The day I knew that I had been fundamentally broken as a human being was not the day that I had to kowtow to a chronic alcoholic who wanted to gouge out my eyes with a spoon for being out of their favored 10am pint. It was not the day that I had to shovel the proverbial muck of a 200 case order by myself while fencing off the ghosts of customers come back to haunt my pitiful existence with the guilt of feeding them the drink which laid waste to their corporeal forms. It was not the day I caved under the pressure of being the convenient bulls-eye for decades of pent up rage from the elderly locusts lost without a cause to exist yet still blindly hanging onto life. Cutting myself with the glass from a broken bathroom mirror to remind myself that physical pain is real, the blood of my life is real, that I AM REAL and I am not actually damned to an eternity of menial drudgery. The day I knew that I had been fundamentally torn asunder, fleshy giblets of my mental health set adrift in the sea of chum known as customer service was when I unconsciously began taking packages of hot and cold food stashed behind cereal boxes in a store that I did not work at back to the proper departments. I realized in disgust and self loathing that the brainwashing was taking hold. The helplessness and total loss of identity had begun to take hold on a more fundamental level than the basic survival instincts which have kept me alive facing the uncaring slathering beasts whose ringing entrance to my door strikes primeval dread into my core. Do not waiver my friends. Cast a steely eye on the discarded flotsam of the uncaring beasts which we may serve in other tiled halls. Stay strong and remember that you are not a product of your work corralling the shuffling masses. Y̞̼̻̳͊̍Ò̤͈͕̝̼͙͍̮̍͗̋͒̈́͑̚ͅU͉̦͚̰͍̫͒ͪ͊̆̍́ ̪̩̻̪̬͎̻ͧ̍̓́̽̓̓̾͊A̭̺͂̄ͮ̓̽̀̅R̖̣̰̻͍̱̻ͤ̀̉̓̏̃ͧ̊͋ͅÈ̪̘̹̯̤̱̪ͮͯ ̘̭̲͉̺͈ͮ̂ͬ̊̾ͧ͒ͣͅṞ̜̮̖͍̈̇̂͆ͤ̽̓̍ͅͅÊ̟̤̣̖̝̱̎̅̃ͯÄ̤͙͎̘́̐͐L̲̗͈͉̒ͩ̓ ̳͖̦̱͑̎͌̓͐̄T̻̣̑̾̇̄ͣH̜̳͂ͬ̋ͪ̿͑ͧ̔I̝͈̫̞͙̳͆́̔͑S͎̘ͨ͂̏ͬ ̥̬̍̓̽̋̃I͓̯͎̥̹͔͎͔̋ͣ̈̑̓̌͂̆Š͍͓̠̓̒̏̾̅̐ͬͅ ̥̀ͪͅŃ͎̱͙̪̭̜͙̻O̖̫̝̫̦̟̊̓ͅȚ̘̠̣͆̍͋̓̉ͩ̉ͭ ͈̲̻̭ͫͩ͌̀ͬP̺̬͚̱̺͇͖̱̐̀̆ͫ͆̉ͯU̠̖̫̖͚̯̰ͯͤ̏͒͋͊ͭ̿R̠̼̯̯̤̹̐G̘͎̹̗͓͍͈̥͌̈͐ͬ̽̎̈ͤͪA̮̦͍̽̓̑̉̍̊͌̄T͇̹̟̜̞̠͈̆ͯ͂ͤO̟͎͉̖̫̜̍̊̓R̠̬͉̻̖̠̐͛̎Ŷ͍̯̩̰̺.͙͉̣̖̺̜ͥ́ ̻͈̗͂ͥ̽͐͋͒̚̚ ̩̬͙̫͗ͨͦ̌ͥD̳̹͚͔͚̻̮̓ͧ̓̾̂ͮͩ̾̀O͎̦͙̝̳̥͒ ̟̝͛N̲͇̫̻̖̅̅ͮ͂͗̈͛̐Ô̬̤̻̞͇͇̅̊T̖͕̳̲̑ͧ͋ ͓̜̻ͯ͛ͩ̚L͔͚͔̟̲̎ͫ̔̌̌O̲̯̗̗̗̖ͫS̼̳͇̳̬͈̹̄̌̀̄̍ͅͅE̥̣̰̰͌̊ͩ͐̌ͨ̅ͅ ̥̱ͣ̉ͤ͌Ý̭̼͉̦͗̒̆ͯ̉Ŏ̥̈́̀͆͗ͣU͇̣͉̣͎ͯ̎R͈̠̩͉̖̎͆ͤ̔̃̉ͮ̃͒S̜̗͔͓̱͖̬̮ͨ͑̎̏ͫ͗͗E̘̥̺̰̊̌̂ͅL͚̪ͭͤͬF̖͉̲̣̗̖͓̖̝̈́ͯͣ̑̚ ̻͙͕̳̼̝̯̗͔͛ͦṪ̻͔̜̤̺̐͌ͥͮ͐O̖ͨͭ̍̔̎̿̐ͣ ̠̻̙̼ͥͩͮͭ̎̓͛͊Ṭ̳̙̂ͨH͈̥̜̫͔̟̃͋̍E͈̳̦͉̹ͣ̍̓ ͍͙͛͋ͩͭ̔Ḿ̩̟̔͒́̉ͮͭĀ̰̪͕̯̬̪̹̙͈ͪ̀D̞͗̔ͣ̂͗̀N̹̹̄̓E̩̦̥̩̦ͫͤ̎ͮͬS͙̞͍̠̲̦̮̩̈ͭ͛̔ͣͪ̉̓Š͖̠̰ͥͭ̌ͤ͑ͦ̒ ̫̬̮̼̬̜̠̩ͩ͗̐ͬͤͭ̐͐H̺̲͇̏̔ͤA̳̪̜̯̯ͪ̑͆V̲͙̜͚͙ͫ͛ͥ͊ͤͧ̚Ẻ̤̹̓ ͎̬̯͈̥̠̾̿̔ͅF̬̮͕ͪ̂̒̿̈̍A͕̭͍͙̐ͪ͒̎̇͐͒̋I̳̜̤̟͍͇̓̏Ṫ͉̫̓H̗̖͖͚͎̱̝̟̾͊̂̑,̟̞̣͓͍̜̳̈̔͆ͧ̐̒̏ͤ̚ͅ ̥̫͎͕͖̻͌͂̂ͅT̘͕̳̖̙̻̖ͨ͛̊H̱̙͔̪̞̮̜̻ͣ̒E͕ͫͮͬ̿ ̠̙̘͈͇̥͇͙͗̽̊̏B̠́̍̅̒̊ͣ̿L̠̟̤̣̭͕̾I̳̞͓̊̊̔ͮ̚̚N̗̆́͊̅D̥ͨ̈́̓ͩ̎̔̒N͙͓̈́ͯ͗ͮ̍E̯̮̗͉̣̼͇͕̙͒̈̓Ś͖̠͎̠̖͑S̠̙ͭͤͥ̇̃̃͗̾̒ ͖̠̗̘̙̱̿ͩ̂̓ͧͩͨͯͅO̬̓ͩ͆̿̿͌͋ͫF̖͔̳̠̹͎̣̌̃̿̆ͭ̂̌͑ͭ ̻̠̲̘̫͈̗̃̋͒̇ͭ̃̂S̼̝̬̞̘̦̅E͔ͦ̃̊̀̔ͣͅL̳̩̳͚̤̞̤͇̞ͩͤͥ̓F͎̺̪̖̱̠̟̫ͨ̈̿ͦ̈̚ ̰̆͂́́̾Ẁ̻̭̟̱̖̼̘͎̑̀̽ͩ͊I̻̺̦̮̼̬̓ͪͯ̔ͥ̉ͩL̞̝̳͎̳̺̥̪ͨ̇͗ͮͪ͐͊̅Ḽ̖̹̹̪̉ͫ̍ ̻̻͇̮͈̱͕͐͊̾ͨ̽̈ͩṖ̙̘Ä̦̺̼̝̞͙̑͋ͅͅS͔̭̦ͯ̂̋̌͌̉̊ͅS̺ͣ͗ͥ̄͑ͭ̏ MC Hawking fucked around with this message at 05:12 on May 24, 2016 |
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May 24, 2016 04:59
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I don't know what the gently caress the deal is, but recently we've been having rushes after 7 pm every drat day for the past month. This is aggravating in produce cause these fuckers will all decide they need 10 pounds of pasillas, tomatillos, apricots, lettuce, apples.... I'm in the store for only an hour and a half longer, and now everything I've filled is empty and now I need to refill it all. Also people bitching when we run out of stuff. How about try coming in 2 hours earlier? Or 12 hours earlier? You can surely budget your time to come in before work, or on your day off. I'm a loving adult too with a full time job, and I can manage to budget my time to come in earlier. poo poo, I WORK at the store and I still manage to come in in the morning on my day off to actually go grocery shopping cause I know that is when A: Everything is in stock and B: Fresh. Also I loving hate people who stand around me when I'm in front of something they need and instead of trying to say something to me they just stand there glaring, and when I move a bit (say to grab the product off my cart to put on the shelf) they take it as an invitation to literally jump inbetween me and the shelf to grab whatever. And then they spend like 2-5 minutes dicking around and I can't go and do something else cause all my produce on the cart is in that immediate area. Or I'm refilling the tables and they stand inbetween the pallet on the table. That last one really pisses me off cause I intentionally fill the edges of the table first so people wouldn't do that poo poo, but no I'm a loving time wizard and the boxes are my portals to the anti time dimension where only produce straight from the box is as fresh as possible, even if they see me put stuff from the box onto the table no those veggies are too old only veggies from the anti time portal are worthy of their bourgeois tastes.
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May 24, 2016 06:00
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NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:My union just authorized a strike. Can you tell us what Union and what the issues are? I've been keeping up on strike stuff right now since there are strikers outside my retail store every day with signs saying "don't shop here" (I work for the Red logo US cell phone carrier in the northeast area). I'm not on strike, so I have to explain a million times a day that I'm not on strike and they're landline and nothing to do with us, blah blah.
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May 24, 2016 14:24
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Leal posted:I don't know what the gently caress the deal is, but recently we've been having rushes after 7 pm every drat day for the past month. This is aggravating in produce cause these fuckers will all decide they need 10 pounds of pasillas, tomatillos, apricots, lettuce, apples.... Weather is nice, people are grilling dinner later?
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May 24, 2016 15:13
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Tuesday. Today's first customer appears, wild eyed smelling of sex, desperation and fear. Their hands shake pawing at piles of musty change, muttered apologies wafting up from three day old cigarette breath. It is 10:03am and the hard rays of the sun are broiling the morning mist away, a portent for the scorched earth feeling of meaningless empty that creeps over me day by day. In the back of my mind I wonder why it is they can find someone to sleep with them while smelling like a trash can, yet I have not been laid since my last girlfriend converted to Southern Baptist & tossed me aside for a mythical man in the sky. It is now 10:24 am and the first wave of aimless travellers has passed. All I can think of is how badly I need to poo poo, but if I leave my post as boatman towards an early oblivion some other poor soul will fade away just as the mist flees the sun. Am I real? Are they real? Expletives peel off my tongue and fly away, freer than I will ever be from the tyranny of the register. It is now 10:42am and I am no longer sure that I am alive. The ice machine speaks to me softly, grumbled pops and hisses beseeching praise from elder things for its thankless work. I understand how it feels. The world, if there is such a thing anymore spins by in jagged half steps through the haze of the front window. Figures appear and leave suddenly, speaking in tongues I can no longer understand. I make noises by rote, automatically miming the motions of being a conscious sentient being. The freezer whines its compressor at the ice machine. They're bickering over last night's college basketball game. I despise basketball but they don't care. It is now 11:02am and the observer inside me who pilots the craft of my body is screaming for escape. The oft repeated scripts of the slipping years have made original thought difficult, sanity and insanity blurring into a fuzzy burble of broken logic simmering in the back of my skull. I lurch forward, determined to make it one more day only slowing down to feed the needs of the craft. Intake and excrete. Clean. I am lost inside myself and the script has taken over. It is 11:08 and I am dimly aware that I have been talking to the mop bucket for the past five minutes. It nods back occasionally, murmuring positive brand slogans for Rubbermaid products between my rambling monologues. His name is Pete the pail and he is my only friend.
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May 24, 2016 17:39
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May 24, 2016 21:27
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Duckman2008 posted:Can you tell us what Union and what the issues are? I've been keeping up on strike stuff right now since there are strikers outside my retail store every day with signs saying "don't shop here" (I work for the Red logo US cell phone carrier in the northeast area). I'm not on strike, so I have to explain a million times a day that I'm not on strike and they're landline and nothing to do with us, blah blah. There are other things on the table, but for the average worker, it boils down to this: paid sick days, retirement benefits, and the size of our pay raise. The last two are the biggest bones of contension. They want to throw retirees off of the company health plans. There are people that have worked for this company for over forty years of their goddamn lives, but corporate doesn't care. It doesn't see them as people, but as numbers on a page, an expense to be reduced. When it comes to the pay raise, I hate both sides. The company wants to give it's part-timers a raise of twenty cents. Full-timers get twenty-five. A twenty cent raise would amount to less than a roll of nickels per eight hour shift. I was full of piss and vinegar when I heard that. Twenty-five cents? gently caress me, what an insult. Give me a sign and stick me in the picket line! So the union rep visits to talk to us. She comes up to me, asks me if I know what's going on, if I'm going to the union meeting, etc. Then she says, "FoodCo thinks you're only worth twenty cents. We're going to fight for you. We think you deserve forty-five cents!"  I did some quick math and determined I could get a similar raise by quitting the loving union. While she smiled and waited for my response, in my head, I grabbed her and screamed "What the gently caress am I paying you for?!" I grunted through the rest of the conversation, allowed her to slap a union sticker on my chest, went home, and drank.
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May 24, 2016 23:50
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NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:There are other things on the table, but for the average worker, it boils down to this: paid sick days, retirement benefits, and the size of our pay raise. Aren't you the guy that turned down a 50 cent raise so you wouldn't have to work the register?
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May 25, 2016 02:47
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remigious posted:Aren't you the guy that turned down a 50 cent raise so you wouldn't have to work the register? Yeah? I worked a til at Wal-Mart. No one made me. I'd see the lines were getting long, and if I wasn't busy with my real job, I'd just open a register. The store was built in the last ten years so all the electronics were somewhat modern and intuitive and it wasn't bad. I even liked it a little bit. Our registers are old enough to be my father. Nothing is simple. The commands require the weirdest series of button presses, and even under the best conditions, they'll just eat poo poo and break. Our front-end staff are treated poorly because we're always short-handed. Nobody gets out for breaks on time if we're at all busy. Some people don't get breaks, period. Knowing how to use a register also means you're expected to drop everything and run up front all drat day. Then you've got the coupon queens, the people that can't remember how much money is on their EBT cards, elderly folks that will fight you to the loving death if they think they're short one red cent... Why the gently caress would I deal with all of that for fifty cents?
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May 25, 2016 03:38
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NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:Why the gently caress would I deal with all of that for fifty cents? Probably not relevant, but I always found the best part of working at Wal-Mart was being rude to lovely customers. Lines backed up and you're a manager? Sorry, dude, we're closing. I've got better things to do than work a register. The store closes in 30 minutes. If you want fast checkout, why the gently caress did you come now? You wanna complain? Go ahead! I'm the boss. gently caress you.
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May 25, 2016 04:01
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Well, I have content. I work at an old movie theater, one that has ghost stories attached to it. Today I get a voicemail from a psychic. According to her, she had done a talk about ghosts and such, and used our theater as anecdotal evidence towards their existence. Apparently, one of 'our' employees had talked to her and pointed out some inaccuracies. So, she wanted to come by and fill in those gaps by doing a reading inside the building. So I contacted our other manager, as he seemed the type to end up in those type of situations. Apparently, he was going to a mason lodge because he wanted to see the inside of a mason lodge. But in order to go inside, he needed to attend one a variety of lectures and such, and a talk from a psychic seemed like the least offensive of the group. So he was surprised to hear the theater mentioned, specifically talking about our former boss and her experiences with ghosts. Having worked with said former boss, she would always admit that most 'ghost stories' about the building was just homeless people who snuck into the abandoned and boarded up hotel above the auditorium. So my friend was apparently locked in the room, forced to listen to this lecture. Having nothing else to do at one point, he talked to this woman and told her, and I quote, 'Everything you said was bullshit'. Perhaps not so bluntly and in so few words, but still. So thus, we're here mentally preparing for this woman to maybe turn batshit and start spamming our inbox with messages. That, or perhaps taking this woman up on her offer, figuring that if it's just her going around telling us that the building's possessed by demons it might make a fun afternoon. Or perhaps, and a hell of a lot more depressing, this is the last we'll ever hear from them again.
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May 25, 2016 08:48
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It's field trip season here at the zoo, AKA the worst time of the year. For the next month, we're going to be slammed with massive groups of unsupervised children and teenagers, who absolutely destroy the place and steal a poo poo ton of merchandise. We have maybe two people on the salesfloor while we get dozens of kids with the freedom to act as horrible as they want because their teachers and supervisors let them loose for their field trip. We figure the reason there's so many field trips to the zoo is because schools have money left over from the budget at the end of the school year and they all decide that going to the zoo is the best way to use up that excess cash for 'educational purposes'. The kids have a sheet of fill-in-the-blanks to complete, and then it's free fuckin reign to terrorize the place for the rest of the day without possibly getting in trouble because who knows where the hell their teachers buggered off to. It's also busier than normal this year because tourism is way up right now thanks to our crappy dollar. Everyday feels like a complete shitshow. I'm very much looking forward to the end of June.
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May 25, 2016 09:29
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I'd be sooner to blame more hospitable weather and temperatures (assuming you live in an area where there's a notable difference) than end-of-year budget surpluses for the rise in field trips, but also that sucks a lot.
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May 25, 2016 12:30
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Picnic Princess posted:For the next month, we're going to be slammed with massive groups of unsupervised children and teenagers, who absolutely destroy the place and steal a poo poo ton of merchandise. You'd love working toys at a big box store. I sure did.
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May 25, 2016 13:48
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NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:Our registers are old enough to be my father. New thread title. Also, is there a thread similar to this one, but for the hospitality industry?
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May 25, 2016 15:34
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Wednesday. It is 9:35am and I am on my way to work, a mild headache throbbing between my ears. Dodging between cars on automatic, I cannot help but wonder why it is I bother every day. Happiness is not a product of time ill spent and the years of toil are mounting. My lower back aches and sweat drips into my eyes. It is 9:45am and I am fifteen minutes early for work. The alarm system shrieks a warning and I can hear arguing voices in the back. Pete the Pail and Marion the Miscellaneous Bottle Shelf are arguing over rising tensions in the South China Sea. The irony of Pete's pro-china leanings vs Marion's Detroit built pride in American exceptionalism is not lost on me. It is an old argument made fresh only by different colonial powers from the ones who came before. Stepping into the beer cooler I breathe deeply. The dry 42 degree air is a far cry from the 87% humidity I risked my life pedaling through moments before. It is 9:52am and the casual disregard for productivity my co-workers display leaves much to be desired. I am not surprised. Like myself I suspect they too have succumbed to the pervasive malaise which binds the soul. I find a dead roach on top of a single Budweiser beer, tiny legs stretched forth in supplication to a god who has forgotten us all. The phone rings. I can barely understand the salesperson over the line static and muffled roaring in my ears. I am no longer here and this is just a fever dream. It is 9:58am when the first customer appears, clad in rags bellowing for me to open up. It too is a lost soul, jaded body autonomously operated by a pilot no longer in control. I feel sorry for the creature, hunched and shrivelled, it's age unknowable. Time blurs again. It is 10:43am and I am speaking to a creature of brilliance and beauty hocking wares I do not have the authority to purchase. One cannot resell bottled essence of souls. The liability risks are high and the state regulatory agencies take a dim view of the child abduction needed to produce it. The being before me should know all this but maybe it simply doesn't care. My head hurts and I idly wonder if I've remembered to pay my dental insurance. The Indian food truck opens next door to my little slice of purgatory. Delicious smells waft through the cracks in the walls and my stomach knots in anticipation. I cannot remember the last time I ate, for time has lost all true meaning save the passage of a life I no longer care to inhabit. A customer throws a hundred dollar bill at me. It is 11:29am and my closer has only left me fives. The customer promises to take my entrails, yet grudgingly takes the thick stack of Lincolns. I cannot bring myself to care. It is 12:58pm and the freezer has spent the last twenty minutes pointing out historical inaccuracies in Mel Gibson's 2002 seminal war drama: We Were Soldiers. I feel I may have to pull the plug to get him to shut up. I ask how the hell would he know what Vietnam was like & besides that how can he talk as he lacks vocal chords. He sputters, calls me a racial slur and lapses into a temporary silence broken only by the occasional comment that Mel Gibson hates the Jews. I do not know why he called me what he did. When I look in the mirror I do not look Asian. I don't look like anything at all. I am a blob, incapable of self recognition. All semblance of identity stripped away by sleep deprivation and the same uniform as the rest of the faceless blobs who operate the store. Later, I will shed the armor and attempt to find myself again. I realize that I can no longer feel my toes. MC Hawking fucked around with this message at 19:26 on May 25, 2016 |
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May 25, 2016 19:08
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NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:Yeah? When you're only making minimum wage a 50 cent raise is not negligible. I just find it odd that you're whining about an annual 20 cent raise when you voluntarily turned down a larger raise for running a register.
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May 25, 2016 19:19
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remigious posted:When you're only making minimum wage a 50 cent raise is not negligible. I just find it odd that you're whining about an annual 20 cent raise when you voluntarily turned down a larger raise for running a register. Saying 20 cents is not enough doesn't make 50 cents enough, especially when they're so far behind their competitors and cost of living. Also, working register would only get him an extra $20 a week (before deductions and if he were lucky enough to get scheduled for 40 hours). Obviously it isn't worth the additional stress.
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May 25, 2016 19:47
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remigious posted:When you're only making minimum wage a 50 cent raise is not negligible. I just find it odd that you're whining about an annual 20 cent raise when you voluntarily turned down a larger raise for running a register. Why would anyone want to make their job substantially more frustrating and annoying for such a minuscule raise? It isn't just running a til once in a while for a few minutes. We're always short on cashiers. You will be there every day. Your department will fall behind because you're busy dealing with a poorly managed front end. You will be called in whenever cashiers are sick or on vacation or no-call no-show. In terms of wages, .50 cents is dogshit. The next lowest-paying store starts cashiers at 8.25. A number of other stores, some grocery, some not, start you off somewhere between 9.00 and 10.00. One has a minimum of 12.50 an hour for every employee. I don't even have full time despite working 40 hours a week on the reg. If you don't work 12 40-hour weeks back-to-back, you aren't full time. They exploit this in exactly the manner you might expect.
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May 25, 2016 20:08
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Being register trained means that more often than not it becomes your job. Whether you like it or not, or whether you want it to or not.
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May 25, 2016 20:25
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sorry in advance for how stupid this post seems. So I'm gonna be at my third day on the job tomorrow at a jay-c plus store in a bedroom community in southern Indiana, and first day without another cashier watching over me. I feel like i've done alright, though I don't think I've had to deal with anyone heinous or any really complex transactions. Any tips for me? its a fairly new store as far as they go, and I'm just worried about how I'll do, since I want this to work out (what with being my first job and all). information, I'm 21 and autistic (though rather high functioning), and I get anxious really easy . If this seems weird or too specific (or off topic or otherwise like I shouldn't be posting it), I edit this post out PS shift will be from 12:00 to 6:00 pm
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May 26, 2016 02:55
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It's your third day, if you have some actual confusion regarding something complicated I'd be really surprised if you couldn't call for help regarding whatever. If that comes up, just say "I'm sorry, this is only my third day and this didn't come up before so I need to call for help" and most people are really gonna be okay with it. I have anxiety too! I don't know how your anxiety goes, so this might not work for you, but for me if someone decides to be a dick I just get really polite until they go away. Most people aren't jerks though it's just that that one in however many is the only one that sticks out to be worth complaining about 
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May 26, 2016 03:14
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thechosenone posted:sorry in advance for how stupid this post seems. Get yourself a little notepad, the kind you can squeeze into your pocket. Carry it with you. If you have a problem or something you're worried about, write down the solution. Just the act of writing something down will help you remember whatever menial work garbage you need to file away in your brain bin. If you get an rear end in a top hat, know that it's not your fault. That person is either trying to get something, or they're just a stupid dickhead that acts that way with everyone. When you hand someone money, do the bills first, then the change. If you've got fresh bills in the til, watch out they don't stick together. You can crimp the edges or rumple them up a little if you're especially worried about this. If you ever leave your station, sign out. Never leave yourself logged in. If someone fucks up an order ( or steals ) while you're logged in and the drawer comes up short, it's your rear end. It seems like a bigger deal than it is. Don't overthink it and you'll do fine. Everyone fucks up when they start. I used to be a lot more anxious about social garbage until I started doing retail. After a month or so you'll learn the art of not giving a gently caress. NerdyMcNerdNerd fucked around with this message at 03:41 on May 26, 2016 |
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May 26, 2016 03:39
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