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CharlestheHammer posted:Yeah those types tend to be crazy paranoid, so they bring guns everywhere and they want you to know it. It's not paranoia when the world really IS full of dangerous people out to cause people harm.
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Oct 31, 2015 18:43
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That is the definition of the word, not that the gun would help them. It's just a security blanket. Which isn't a terrible thing, if they weren't so obnoxious about it.
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Oct 31, 2015 18:51
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CharlestheHammer posted:That is the definition of the word, not that the gun would help them. It's just a security blanket. Which isn't a terrible thing, if they weren't so obnoxious about it. I have never met a person who was obnoxious about having an open holstered gun. The only thing that has ever bothered me are when the thugs come in with gun tucked into their pants or in their pocket and that's just because they are dressed like thugs about to do a robbery.
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Oct 31, 2015 19:32
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Not the thugs 
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Oct 31, 2015 19:40
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The Lord Bude posted:In Australia if you kill a snake (or any other native wildlife really - have a possum in your roof? the nice possum man will catch it and release it, but no more than a block away so it doesn't get lost) you are paying a 6 digit fine. 99% of the time if you get bitten by a snake it's your fault for being stupid - snakes don't randomly go on people killing sprees, leave it alone and it won't hurt you. PCOS Bill posted:Wow that's stupid. Most of our native wildlife are endangered. That's why there are such big fines. That said, I don't know any enforcement officer who would slap you with a fine for killing a venomous snake. Aside from kangaroos (which you need a permit to shoot, like deer) I don't think there is any reason, in Australia, for civilians to carry a handgun. Notable exceptions are primary producers like people who run cattle or sheep, for when that stupid sheep breaks its legs wandering off a cliff and you're 4 hours from home and your 357 is required to put it out of it's misery. Or if you've stopped for the night in a workers hut on your property and a snake has already moved in - you're not going to pay and wait for some snake catcher dude to fly in from the closest town to deal with that one snake. You've got to sleep, damnit. Even in those exceptions, if the gun isn't being used it must be in a lockbox securely located inside a locked vehicle (or gun safe) at all times. Our wildlife will absolutely gently caress you up 10 different ways but like Lord Bude said, won't hurt you if you leave them alone. Edit: The nice possum man will release the possum in the closest bit of bushland he can find. If that means the big national park that is your backyard, then sure. The nice snake catching man will relocate the snake to bushland far away from human habitation, however. The nice crocodile catching man will relocate the crocodile a loooong way away from human habitation. The nice cassowary catching man will tell you to lock your doors and stay inside until the demon bird goes away and promises to come immediately but manages to arrive just after it has left. princecoo fucked around with this message at 21:26 on Oct 31, 2015 |
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Oct 31, 2015 21:22
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princecoo posted:I don't think there is any reason, in Australia, for civilians to carry a handgun. Two legged predators
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Oct 31, 2015 21:37
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Cassowaries are nature's assholes. I worked tonight, Halloween night for you non-'murican heathens who don't celebrate a holiday made up entirely to fill children with sugar and fear, and it was ridiculous. I think I helped a whole 3 customers in the last 4 hours of my shift. I spent the rest of the time making a silly hat out of random poo poo I scavenged from the store use areas, curling paper strips for the fun of it and generally not going out of my way to work. It's not that I'm lazy, but it's also not like there was a whole ton of stuff that needed immediate attention. I tidied, I took care of some trash, I put some loose carts back. And I got paid to play with scissors. Not as nice as New Years' Eve but pretty chill. And there were hot dogs in the break room (halloweenies, lol) although they were charging us $1 to go toward the employee fund (which is where all the xmas prizes come out of, so hell yes I'll pay into that, somebody wins a TV every year at the holiday party and one day it's gonna be me!).
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Nov 1, 2015 02:54
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PCOS Bill posted:So like how you didn't go out before you got that job or...? You caught me!
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Nov 1, 2015 05:33
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So halloween we had a few female coworkers show up as cats. Some guy started creeping on them, doing literal cat calls to them. They actually called me over and asked me to hang around them just to deter the guy. And when he was going to check out he intentionally went out of his way to almost bump into another girl (not in costume) then kept peeking over his shoulder at her. Yeah, what a great way to spend halloween. Taking your kid trick or treating? Partying? Getting laid? gently caress that, lets go to a shutting down store and try hitting on the female employees!
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Nov 1, 2015 06:03
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My store allowed Halloween costumes. On the 30th. I still don't get that decision.
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Nov 1, 2015 06:06
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I think one of the most surprising things about a grocery store is just how much garbage there is. The enormity of the waste just cannot be understated, and I never quite grasped it until something happened. Someone hosed up. About a month ago on a Monday, I came into the store, clocked in, and went back to my janitor's closet. I needed to clean my cleaning cart ( night crew always left it in a sorry state ), arrange my supplies, and maybe clean up the loading dock if it was a bit messy. After I took care of the first few bits, I stepped into the loading dock to see the state of things. The trash cart was filled to the brim with garbage. That in itself wasn't unusual. People are lazy, and they'd rather leave it for someone else to throw into the compactor than do it themselves. What WAS unusual were the six shopping carts also filled with trash that were packed in around it, as if a group of homeless people had been involved in a pileup. Uh-oh. I could have called my manager, but I get paid by the hour and I had eight more to kill, so I walked to her office instead. I could see it in her face that she knew why I was there before I asked. "Someone messed up, and, uh... Well, the garbage truck didn't come empty the dumpster," she said. She sounded about as happy about it as I was. "You want me to not pull the trash today, or what?" I asked. That wouldn't have been a big huge deal. Most of the cans could skip a day. "Oh, no, uhm, just pile it up on the rest of the garbage." I shrugged. With the trash cart buried in, well, trash, I had to use a shopping cart. It was annoying because they held a lot less garbage than the big bin, it looked like crap in front of the customers, and I had to line it with garbage bags so it wouldn't leak all over the store- but it also made my job more time consuming, and that meant I'd look busy. Near the end of my shift, as I was throwing my trash onto the heap, my manager came up and looked out across it. I swept my arm across it, fingers fanned out. "Someday, all this will be your's." "It's mine right now and I don't loving want it," he said. But he smiled. It was starting to stink. It wasn't bad, not yet, but it wasn't pleasant to be around. "The truck might show up tonight." I shrugged. "If it shows up, I'll clear the dock." It might have seemed like I was volunteering, but I wasn't. I knew it was going to be my job. The bus was going to run me over, so I I figured I'd score some points by throwing myself under it. Besides, it was only about two pick-up trucks worth the garbage. It wouldn't take long. The truck never showed up and I laughed. I was off for the next two days. It was officially someone else's problem. Thursday I came in, hit the clock, and went to the back. As soon as I pushed through the double doors that led into the back room it was like I'd stepped through an airlock. There was an odor in the air, an odor that curled the hairs in my nose. It reminded me of the time I'd opened a trash can in the parking lot and found a dirty diaper stewing in a few inches of rainwater. The smell got worse as I grew closer to the janitor's closet and loading dock. At first I'd thought someone had simply not mopped the floors after they'd cleared away the trash. Then I rounded the corner, pushed past the hanging plastic flaps, and stepped onto the loading dock. Oh Jesus, the smell. More carts had been crashed into the initial pileup, enough of them that they completely blocked off the bay doors. Boxes of spoiled produce and rolling trashcans had been added to the mix. Some effort had been made to make it an orderly disaster, but at the end of the day, it was still a massive pile of garbage. Hot garbage. I looked up at the heating unit mounted on the ceiling. It was venting right at the amalgam of refuse. Super. One manager mounted a valiant effort to reclaim the loading dock from the forces of decay, and I joined him, since it meant I didn't have to work the front of the store. We put the trash in boxes, unloading the carts, and stacked it on pallets. Half of my day was devoted to building a leaning tower of garbage. We still had a lot of mess, but we'd be able to unload the trucks when they arrived. Progress! All my managers were pissed off by this point. Pissed off at the unnamed person that messed up, and pissed at the garbage company that kept blowing smoke up their collective asses. About midway through that afternoon, the garbage company said a truck was on it's way. Four hours later, the truck still hadn't showed up. I clocked the gently caress out and ran.
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Nov 1, 2015 16:15
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NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:Four hours later, the truck still hadn't showed up. I clocked the gently caress out and ran.
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Nov 1, 2015 16:47
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Last night the refrigeration trailer we keep all the pallets of turkeys in stopped working. Like just flat out, the engine shut off and for the 30 seconds it would run after restarting it, it sounded like the motor was about to fly off into orbit. Luckily we caught it in time before they thawed out and stuffed them in the freezer. I wonder how much money would’ve been lost if nine pallets of turkeys had to be tossed in the garbage. I'm going to be glad when the loving holidays are over and they haven’t even begun.
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Nov 1, 2015 16:56
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PCOS Bill posted:Two legged predators Once again, this comes back to the differing cultures. I won't say that we have less lunatics running around, but the lunatics we do have don't have guns. Getting a gun isn't hard in Australia, if you really want one. You just do the day long safety course for a couple hundred bucks, register with a local gun club and pay the membership fees, apply for your license which takes a few weeks to arrive, then go buy whatever gun you want (provided your license says you're permitted for it, most people only get licensed for rifles and shotguns, not handguns - that's a seperate safety course tacked on to the regular one). It is fairly expensive and time consuming even before you get your hands on your own gun. Once you have your gun, you must attend a certain number of sports shooting events and have a certain number of hours on the range each year to maintain your license. Let it lapse and you lose it. This is because "self defence", from memory isn't an option when you apply. Most people choose "sporting", and that is what most gun owners in Australia do - Kangaroo shooting or competition shooting. Your gun must be locked up - properly locked up and unloaded when you don't have it out hunting or competing, rendering it useless for self defence. The most common gun deaths we hear about these days are when a depressed farmer decides to shoot his entire family then himself. With a rifle. Bought and primarily used to defend his stock from dingos and putting stock down. So no. We don't really need guns to defend ourselves from other nutty Australians, because those Australians don't have guns either. We are as capable of running from a crazy lunatic armed with a knife as any other person, with the added advantage of having lots and lots of practice due to our wildlife thirsting for our blood every second of every day. On topic, we too had to wear halloween costumes on the 30th and 31st. I didn't work Saturday, but I was not going to be wearing a store provided costume. So I suited up, and told everyone I was our companies upper management. It was pretty popular, everyone at work loved it, except the store 2ic (acting store manager while our manager is on holiday) who "didn't get it" and our area manager, who came out for a routine walk-through, who deadpanned me. The loss prevention manager was out for a visit too, and he thought I was actually a manager, so that was fun.
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Nov 1, 2015 21:46
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NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:One manager mounted a valiant effort to reclaim the loading dock from the forces of decay, and I joined him, since it meant I didn't have to work the front of the store. This is a testament to how far retail employees will go just so they don't have to deal with customers.
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Nov 1, 2015 22:45
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Semprini posted:There's probably a Stephen King short story where the garbage becomes sentient and hunts you down. This time it didn't have to! GARBAGE DAY, PART DEUX I came into the store the next day, Friday. The bin right by the entrance was getting full. I'd have to pull it early. I punched in and went back to go get my trash bin. The stench was on me before I got anywhere near the loading dock. I thought, I hoped that it was just residual funk. Concrete is somewhat porous, and when something seeps into it, the smell could hang around for a while. Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment. I pushed past the plastic and stopped dead in my tracks. The carts we'd cleared away the day before were back. More trashcans. More boxes. More bags. The heating unit above had lovingly baked it all a trash casserole, just for me. All told it had to be every bit of a ton, if not more. Two thousand pounds of hot, festering garbage. And I'd volunteered to clean it up. My father, a navy man, used to joke that navy stood for 'Never Again Volunteer Yourself'. I considered this as I walked to the front of store to get the keys for the compactor. The front end manager looked at me when grabbed the keys off her U-Scan podium. "The garbage truck hasn't come yet."  Two hours later the assholes finally showed up with an empty dumpster. One guy from produce helped me clear a path to the compactor door, a canyon cut through a mountain of trash, then he fled. I didn't blame him. I opened up the bay doors, both of them. I have a deadened sense of smell and the miasma in the room still made my eyes water. The cold winter air made it possible to breathe again, but it also caused the heating unit to kick on. It started blasting out 50,000 BTUs of go gently caress yourself straight down on me. Hot and cold, I stood waist deep in a pile of bags. There was no good place to start. There were no good choices. Almost every bag looked like it was loving packed full enough to give Santa sack envy. Did I mention the hole for the compactor was just under 5 feet off the ground? I grabbed a bag at random and gave it a tug. I can lift 50 pound bags of dog food with one arm without breaking a sweat, but this thing barely budged. I grabbed it with both hands, braced my legs, and slowly pulled it up off the deck. The bottom of the bag split right down the center and erupted all over the floor. The gore came first, a stew of fleshy bits, blood, and slimy yellow water that splashed out over my boots and ankles. The bigger bits followed the juice, whole chickens, pork roasts, sides of ribs. I was standing ankle deep in enough meat to build a high school student. That was bag number one. I focused on the smaller bags after that, trying not to slide on any floor meat as I hoisted and threw bag after bag into the compactor. I had to throw them hard and fast, doing things slow meant bringing the bags right up close to my body. Some of them went quietly. Some of them broke. I never knew that gore could burn until a bag had ripped open across my left hand and covered it in slime. After a quick pause to rinse myself off in the janitor's sink, I was back at it. By now I was getting hot, hot and pissed. I grabbed one of the shovels we kept by the compactor, then I busted open the other big bags of meat and went to work. Did you know you can balance a whole chicken on a spade? Because you can. I scooped those bastards up and whipped them into the compactor like I was playing lacrosse. They made a hell of a sound when they hit the wall at the back of the compactor chute, a loud 'thud' accompanied by the snap of bone and cartilage. It made me laugh. One of the managers came walking into the back as I was flinging chickens, my hair all wild and messy from the sweat, my shirt, arms, and pants spattered with things best left undescribed and forgotten. He looked at me, looked at the bay doors, then back to me. "Why are the bay doors open?" I looked at him like he was retarded. He hesitated. "Is it because of the smell?" I nodded. Maybe he knew I would quit if he told me to shut the doors, or maybe he thought I'd beat him to death with my shovel and throw him into the compactor. Maybe both. Either way, 'allowed' the doors to remain open, then left. As if it wasn't bad enough, the filth got reinforcements. Produce, the deli, the meat department, they all came by with MORE garbage. The deli alone brought up ten loving cartloads. I could have let them throw it into the compactor themselves, but most of them were older folk, or skinny girls. It would have taken forever. I did it for them just to get them out of my way, then went back to work. It took five hours to clear the dock, five miserable, stinking hours. I worked straight through it without taking a break, except to rinse myself off in the sink every now and then. I took my two 15 minute breaks and my lunch all in my final hour, went home, showered, and drank. All told, it was still better than working front of house on a bad senior day. NerdyMcNerdNerd fucked around with this message at 03:15 on Nov 2, 2015 |
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Nov 2, 2015 03:12
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NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:This time it didn't have to! I think I would sooner offer complimentary fellatio with every transaction than have to deal with that.
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Nov 2, 2015 03:34
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I dunno, I'll take dealing with trash over dealing with people any day.
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Nov 2, 2015 04:30
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-Troika- posted:I dunno, I'll take dealing with trash over dealing with people any day. Me too, but not for customer service wages. If you want me to deal with biohazard filth, you'll pay me like a janitor, not like a clerk...
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Nov 2, 2015 05:06
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NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:This time it didn't have to! The lack of any details on maggots or bugs thereof surprises me. e: I guess my own experience is clouding my judgment. Since we only have a regular sized grocery store, we have dumpsters outside in the back. Today I was called in because apparently a bunch of people were neglecting to actually put their trash in the dumpster and they told me to take care of it. Most of the bags were nowhere near what Nerdy had to deal with, but near the end I'm pretty sure the sacks that came from the meat department weighed more in maggots than actual refuse. There was actually one bag that basically had a Castlevania Legion sphere of maggots all writhing in some ungodly unison. Futaba Anzu fucked around with this message at 06:06 on Nov 2, 2015 |
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Nov 2, 2015 06:01
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SymmetryrtemmyS posted:Me too, but not for customer service wages. If you want me to deal with biohazard filth, you'll pay me like a janitor, not like a clerk... Retail janitors make the same as retail cashiers/stockers from my experience.
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Nov 2, 2015 06:10
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We use contractors for janitorial work (our own employees are prohibited from performing janitorial type duties, like cleaning toilets and such) - but I'd be stunned if they weren't payed less. Our grunt level staff earn about $5 an hour above minimum wage - so maybe 25% or so. I'd be surprised if these contractors are earning much beyond minimum wage, or potentially even less, considering they are almost always chinese or indians, and the rampant wage exploitation that occurs in businesses that primarily use migrant labour in Australia. There is an emerging scandal in Australia where an overwhelming majority of 7 eleven stores - which are almost all owned by indian or chinese franchisees, and employ indian and chinese migrants/students almost exclusively - were committing rampant wage fraud - typically they would record a 20 hour workweek for all staff, but force them to work for 40 hours, often they'd take a person's passport and hold it to ransom as well. It was found that the corporate office had known and turned a blind eye for years, and that the entire business model of 7 eleven was designed in such a way that it was virtually impossible for a store to be profitable unless they exploited workers. Many of the workers are students on a visa restricting the number of hours they are legally permitted to work, so they would face deportation if they came forward. It's the tip of the iceberg too - recent investigations have found that almost all retail/hospitality jobs advertised in a foreign language (for jobs in chinese restaurants, and so forth) are advertising a rate of pay below minimum wage.
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Nov 2, 2015 06:24
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I just applied for a promotion at my retail location of choice because the managers all like me and think I'd do a good job as a shift lead. Lord help me
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Nov 2, 2015 10:23
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pandaK posted:The lack of any details on maggots or bugs thereof surprises me. Too cold, or too late in the year. The flies more or less disappear after September. PCOS Bill posted:Retail janitors make the same as retail cashiers/stockers from my experience. Same pay. I'm not even a 'real' janitor. Whenever things get busy on the front end, I have to drop everything and come help. Why? Because we never have enough baggers. Yesterday was the first of the month, which means it was guaranteed to be a busy day. The first few days of any month are always a slog because that's when the foodstamp cards get recharged. We had seven cashiers and three baggers. My position wouldn't be so bad if it was one or the other. Instead, I'm more or less working two jobs for one wage. I'm just waiting until they train me on a register so I can do three lovely jobs at once.
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Nov 2, 2015 12:16
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I was booked to work Cafe from opening to closing all by myself, on the first of the month, on a sunday, the day after a major holiday. If I wasn't so darn stubborn and scared of the consequences of quitting without a two-week notice I would have walked out of the veritable apocalypse that was yesterday. Food getting ordered as soon as it was cooked and I was the only person trained for cafe. It was 4 hours before I could get my lunch in, and when I got back to relieve the two people who they got to cover me, I overheard one say they would literally walk out if they had to work cafe again. The worst part was when I got an order for seven pizzas from someone calling with almost no cell reception. which made hell day all the more worse when my ovens were busy during peak hours, and when they get here to pick them up they were mad because "I specifically asked for frozen pizzas!" Lady I had to get you to repeat your order on the phone 3 times because your cell reception was so lovely. I was then yelled at by a COS for not making take-and-bakes for this lady while a line 12 people long was at my front desk. At least the people in the break room were happy when they got 7 free pizzas for everyone. I think I want to apply to a fast-food place, because then I got at least 2 other people working with me at the least staffed times. I just wanted to stock shelves and point customers to aisles drat it. NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:The flies more or less disappear after September. God I wish.
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Nov 2, 2015 22:43
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Before I post my story, let me say that I really don't mind my job. I have worked the last 8 years as an Assistant Manager at a decent Gas Station. We are known for our high standards and clean stores. I have been promoted a few times, finally have a not terrible schedule, and make a decent yearly wage. This job also has tuition reimbursement that has payed for my college degree (which I finish in a few months ... WOOOO .... no more retail!) Now over these 8 years, I have seen a lot. I've seen bums fighting for cans, prostitutes taking their "John's" behind the building with their kids watching, a gun pulled on me, and much much more. I'm known for being able to deal with any situation and great at defusing any situation and proud to say that I rarely have a bad moment where I crack and say what is really going through my head ... until a horrible day a few months go. So in our bathrooms we have a normal stall and an ADA stall and in order to keep these clean, we typically do upkeeps every 30 minutes or so. During one of these upkeeps, my clerk comes up to me and says that the guy's toliet is clogged and the stall is rather "destroyed". Since I make more then these clerks, I take it upon myself to clean any huge disasters, whether it be vomit or poo poo. I set my clerk on the register, inform my other clerks that I'm going to clean the restroom. About 5 feet from the door I notice the smell. I thought I knew what I was getting into ... I thought it would all be alright. I open the door of the stall and see that even though the toilet was clogged, at least 6 people have continue to poop into it. The water is dark brown and mostly crap piled on crap. The consistency of the water is like a thick vegetable soup. I try to put the plunger in and the splash of poo poo water flies onto the seat, stall walls, and floors. I try to do one more plunge, but can't make it. In between gags, I make it out of the stall, out of the bathroom and into the backroom. I spend about 5 minutes trying not to vomit and muster up the strength to get back in there. Finally I make it back in, I've donned a double pair of yellow gloves, the mop, loving safety glasses, plenty of sanitizing spray, and a crap-ton of blue towels. I take a deep breathe and charge the stall screaming my war-cry. As I open the door, there is a 40 something year old man who had forgotten to lock the door sitting on the pot trying to empty his bowels into a toilet where at least 6 other people have crapped and been unable to flush. We make eye-contact. I'm too shocked to look away and too pissed to apologize. "Are you loving serious?" is all I could say. "... I had to go." he whispers. "There is another stall that isn't full of poo poo." "... I had to go." he again whispers. I shut the door, walk out of the bathroom, back into the backroom and wait. After a couple close calls, I made it through and got it all cleaned. After the initial rage, I look back and laugh. Imagine sitting to take a dump only to see a worker wearing 2 pairs of yellow gloves, safety goggles, a bunch of towels, and sanitizing spray hanging on his pocket, busting into your stall. Landral fucked around with this message at 03:03 on Nov 3, 2015 |
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Nov 3, 2015 01:45
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The Lord Bude posted:I think I would sooner offer complimentary fellatio with every transaction than have to deal with that. You present yourself as some sort of Australian ubermensch, but you would crumble under American pressure. I once watched a fat man plunge a plugged dairy drain with his meaty arm, and all I thought was "Gee, I would've used a tool for that." He didn't give one gently caress, he needed that extra dollar an hour from having some insignificant title of authority, and he was willing to purge pipes with his body parts if it contributed to that goal. In retrospect, this may be a disgusting weakness rather than a source of dignity and strength. Perhaps more whiskey will help me reconcile these ideas.
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Nov 3, 2015 05:44
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litany of gulps posted:You present yourself as some sort of Australian ubermensch, but you would crumble under American pressure. I once watched a fat man plunge a plugged dairy drain with his meaty arm, and all I thought was "Gee, I would've used a tool for that." He didn't give one gently caress, he needed that extra dollar an hour from having some insignificant title of authority, and he was willing to purge pipes with his body parts if it contributed to that goal. In retrospect, this may be a disgusting weakness rather than a source of dignity and strength. Perhaps more whiskey will help me reconcile these ideas. I'm partial to Talisker 10yr.
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Nov 3, 2015 05:55
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The Lord Bude posted:I'm partial to Talisker 10yr. I can only afford Kentucky Deluxe on my meager American paycheck!
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Nov 3, 2015 05:58
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Landral posted:"... I had to go." he whispers. Let's go back to bathroom stuff. It's amazing how many people HAVE to use our bathrooms. See, I have to check the bathrooms on the hour, every hour. The public bathroom is the worst because it's a unisex unit with a single toilet. I've gone back to check on it and found a line five people deep. Our toilet is like Ellis fuckin' Island, huddled masses just yearning to pee free. Old people, young people, men, women, children, etc. I'd say our toilet sees at least twenty asses an hour. You've got kids? I get it. You're old and have problems? I understand. What about the rest of you? Why didn't you go before you left the house? Are you like sea turtles? Does instinct drive you to return here? Do you grab your keys and run to the supermarket when your rear end in a top hat puckers up? They don't just destroy the public bathroom, either. The overflow pours into the employee bathrooms. Sometimes when I'm cleaning the women's bathroom a customer will come in, see me, and react like they've discovered a burglar in their den. You caught me, lady. I'm the Phantom of the Shithouse. Since the employee bathrooms have multiple stalls, the doors don't lock. One night I knocked on the lady's room door, paused, then entered. I glanced to the right at the closest stall and saw a fifty year old woman, pants around her ankles, taking a piss with the stall door wide open. I caught a glimpse of roast beef garnished by a salt and pepper bush, spun on my heel, and walked away as she called out 'Sorry!'. I saw her about ten minutes later on the store floor, embarrassed and infuriated. I shrugged at her. Not my fault you can't close the drat door on the stall.
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Nov 3, 2015 14:24
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Are your staff toilets accessible directly from the trade floor or something? Otherwise how the hell does a customer penetrate that deep into 'out the back' to get to a toilet? In our store you'd have to walk through the stockroom, prep areas, then on into the lunchroom, and then the locker rooms. I've never heard of supermarkets having toilets for customer use either. those big department stores that take up 6 floors tend to have them, since those also have internal cafes and are positioned as an all day shopping experience, but I've never seen toilets in a supermarket or smaller store. If it's in a mall then the mall will have toilets, but plenty of supermarkets are a stand alone building, or just built into a line of shops facing a street, and they don't have toilets for customers.
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Nov 3, 2015 15:38
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The staff toilets are right next to the customer bathroom. They're all 'in the back'. Some customers don't even check the customer bathroom and go straight into the employee bathroom. Some people are considerate and wait. Other people just aren't bright enough to notice the employee restrooms. I think it's a law in the states that if you serve hot food, you have to have a public bathroom. All our supermarkets serve food, except for the cheap ones. The Wal-Mart I used to work at had sold a lot of hot food through the deli. They also had a massive rat problem. Don't eat at Wal-Mart.
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Nov 3, 2015 16:03
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The Lord Bude posted:I've never heard of supermarkets having toilets for customer use either. Wow, really? Maybe it's the state but I've never heard of a supermarket not having public restrooms.
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Nov 3, 2015 16:33
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NerdyMcNerdNerd posted:The staff toilets are right next to the customer bathroom. They're all 'in the back'. Some customers don't even check the customer bathroom and go straight into the employee bathroom. Some people are considerate and wait. Other people just aren't bright enough to notice the employee restrooms. This is a big issue because 'the back' should be a reasonably secure area - non staff should never be there. If you are going to have public toilets at least have them segregated from the back of house. Our company even has a big red line painted about 3 - 4 feet from the receiving door that truck drivers aren't allowed to step over under any circumstances, and most of those work for the company.
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Nov 3, 2015 17:16
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At my work every delivery driver has to sign in before they're even allowed to start unloading the truck
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Nov 3, 2015 17:24
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The Lord Bude posted:This is a big issue because 'the back' should be a reasonably secure area - non staff should never be there. If you are going to have public toilets at least have them segregated from the back of house. Our company even has a big red line painted about 3 - 4 feet from the receiving door that truck drivers aren't allowed to step over under any circumstances, and most of those work for the company. Sometimes this is due to the buildings being half a century old and having no planning for bathroom ordinances.
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Nov 3, 2015 17:43
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I spent 8 hours cleaning up refuse for an inspection by corporate offices. Not a big deal. the store director had got it in his head that pine needles under the pine trees next to storage containers that customers never go near would be an issue. I loaded 30+ garbage bags with needles. It was raining, and no one offered me rain gear. Lucky for me I had stolen a set from my previous location I kept in my truck, because gently caress them. I think the temps were low 40s, high 30s. 
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Nov 3, 2015 20:49
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Pumpy Dumper posted:At my work every delivery driver has to sign in before they're even allowed to start unloading the truck My store requires a staff supervising the unloaders at all times, and this is honestly the one job I'm going to miss after I graduate from courtesy clerk because it was literally a two hour chunk of time where you stood around doing nothing but shooting the shits with the other truck drivers.
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Nov 3, 2015 21:01
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My store has no public restroom because our toilets are down three flights of stairs. A good part of the small joy I get out of this job is telling customers who ask where the restroom is that there isn't one. ...Not that this stops some of them.
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Nov 3, 2015 21:55
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I worked at Walmart for several years, and people would use the fitting rooms as a toilet. Frequently. People would bring their sick children shopping, who would end up puking on the floor. They would just walk away from it, and if it was busy, crowds would walk through it, tracking it all over the store. Getting it in the carpeted areas was always great. I once found a pile of freshly cut hair in the ladies sock aisle. The worst was when I was working in lingerie late one evening. It was completely dead, so the girl I was friends with in shoes came over to talk with me for a while. As we were standing there, she glanced to the rack beside us and this look of abject horror washed over her face. I looked where she was looking, and inside a pair of lacy pink panties hanging on the stand was a large, solid lump of human poo poo. You can tell if a garment was removed from the hanger because the people in the assembly factory are magic neatness fairies who make everything perfect. Our staff can't replicate those results no matter how hard we try. This underwear was never removed from the hanger. Which means somebody lovingly collected human feces, carried it into the store, and placed it gingerly inside the prettiest panties they could find. We both just started shrieking in disgust. I carefully picked up the hanger, carried the item held as far from me as possible, and threw it in the compactor, all while my friend followed me howling "WHY WHY OH MY GOD WHY" Oh yeah, I was once exposed to an exhibitionist couple there too. No real nudity, but you could tell this was a fetish of theirs. This couple comes up to me, and the woman asks "Do you carry sun bras?" "I'm sorry, I've never heard of those. What's a sun bra?" She then rips open her button up shirt to show me her bra while staring me directly in the eye and saying "This." Her boyfriend yells "HELLOOOOOO NURSE!" And I'm just flabbergasted to the point I can't speak. I guess a sun bra meant there were no clips attaching the strap to the cup, it was just sewn in. They left right after that. Probably went out the parking lot to gently caress.
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Nov 3, 2015 22:49
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