So I’ve concluded that I might need a vacation. I’m a little too grouchy all the time. Either that or everyone else is too grouchy and want to take it out on the poor retail workers. Because we’re supposed to just let people yell at us and give them their way all the time. Sigh.
One morning I was by myself for a few hours. I have a bell on the counter with a note that says, “please ring for service,” and I was two aisles over doing the order. I heard someone at the front of the store. He coughed. He shook a bottle of medicine. And maybe I should have just read his mind that he was ready to check out. But there’s plenty of times people are just staring at the medicine and they shake the bottles sometimes. So I kept working.
After a minute goes by, he yells out, “hello?” So I say hello back and walk around the corner. He’s standing at the checkout counter (ignoring the bell). And I say, “there’s a bell on the counter so you don’t have to yell across the store for help.” He tries to say he didn’t yell. And why didn’t I just know he was up there. I said, “because I was working. Which is why there’s a bell on the counter to tell me when you’re ready.” He says he doesn’t want to argue about it. I say okay, finish on the debit machine please. And he says, “You know what, f*ck this.” Yanks his card out of the machine. “Go f*ck yourself.” I say, “yeah, you too, sir.” And he leaves. Sigh. How dare I want someone to ring a bell instead of yell across the store. Shame on me for informing him of the proper procedure.
Another day a man walked in and came up to me. He said, “I’m looking for….” Gestures vaguely. “I need it to…” waves hand in a circle. “Do you have anything like that?” And of course my response was, “Anything like what?” Because he didn’t say anything!
So again, he says, “I’m trying to…” waves a hand. “It’s for the…” another vague gesture. “Where would that be?”
WHERE WOULD WHAT BE??? *Inward screams!*
This goes on for a few minutes. I guess at what he’s talking about, but really have no clues to go off of, so everything I guess was wrong. He eventually walks away and wanders the store. As far as I know, we didn’t have what he wanted because he bought nothing. But what the hell? If you don’t actually say the words for what you want, I cannot help you.
Next we have the price difference argument. In the recent past, the price of my rubbing alcohol apparently went from $1.55 to $1.75 and we didn’t get new labels for it so we had no idea. A man buys one bottle. Pays for it. Cashes out. All the way done. And THEN he realizes the price differed from the shelf. And wants the money back.
My cashier calls me over. From what she tells me, I think he just wants the difference in the price back. So I do the refund and then ring it back up and change the price and give him the twenty cents. He stares at me and says, “No, I just don’t want the product if it’s not $1.55.” I try to explain that I just redid the sale to make it $1.55, and that’s why I gave him the twenty cents. But he says, “No. I don’t want it.” So, okay, I do the refund again and give him the $1.75. And he says, “What about the tax?” I tell him there’s no tax on alcohol. And then because he thinks he’s hilarious I guess, he says, “Tell that to the liquor store.” Ha. Ha. Ha. So funny.
And lastly we have the person who expects me to just know every single thing about everything. She buys a pack of cream cheese. When she comes to the counter she asks if one brick of cream cheese is enough to make a dozen stuffed jalapenos. I tell her I really don’t know. And she gives me this look like I’m crazy and how dare I. She says, “What, you’ve never made them?” No. No I haven’t. I’ve eaten them and seen other people make them, but I don’t know what you need for them in specifics. So sorry.
She acts frustrated through the rest of her transaction. She then asks for a bag of ice and I have to tell her we’re out of ice. We’ve been out of ice for a week. And everyone tells us that a lot of places are out of ice right now. I don’t know what the deal is, but we just can’t get any. Our last delivery wasn’t even enough to fill the ice box. She gets madder. And then asks me if I’m “having a bad day or something?” Because apparently me not knowing how much cream cheese, she needs and not knowing where she can get ice means that I’m having a bad day. I tell her I’m fine, actually. And she huffs as I give her the receipt and tell her to have a nice day. I didn’t know I was supposed to have all the answers, and if I don’t have them, I guess that means I’m having a bad day or I’m rude. I don’t know how to please these people anymore.
And sigh again. I want to tell people to use google once in a while. Cashiers are not information boxes. We know about our store and where things are in our building. I couldn’t even tell you where stuff is exactly in another store in my chain. We’re not all laid out the same. That doesn’t mean I’m rude. It just means I have limited knowledge of certain things and you’re expecting too much of me. Ugh.