Posts Tagged ‘fuck’

What? Are YOU Doing Okay?

June 4, 2010

There is a man sitting on a mannequin box, which is meant for mannequins and isn’t supposed to support his kind of weight for a long time. (Once, I had the utter joy watching someone sit on the exact center of one box, before we could stop him, and that guy took out an entire display. He offered to pay for it, but we don’t work that way. Too bad. I would have said $300! Haha.) Today, this man looks like an idiot and totally acts like one–don’t you love those people? So he’s sitting there, with his legs spread as wide open as possible so people have to literally walk around his feet, with his arms crossed as he glares at people, looking them up and down with his bloodshot eyes. You already know he’s an image of godly beauty, right? Sure, yeah right. And when you’re kicked by a horse, it doesn’t hurt. Actually, he looked like a mugger you’d find in a dirty alley right before they attack you. Obviously, people were trying to avoid him.

He was not supposed to be sitting there, but I was still new at the time, I didn’t have the gusto I have now. I just asked if he was doing okay. In return, he just glared at me, saying nothing. I’m actually supposed to say, “You can’t sit here. Please, you need to get up and move. Thanks a bunch!” These days I’d probably just say, “Hey, that box can’t handle your weight, can you get up before it breaks and you have to pay for it? Thank you.”

Either way, he’s sitting there for a long time, and I mean a long time, so I am left to assume either he’s homeless and wants to sleep in the box later or his wife is somewhere taking her sweet time shopping, she might not even be in the store anymore–and with a husband like that, I’d want time away from him, too. As much as possible. So again, I ask if he’s still doing okay, since I’ve walked by him about ten times already–as these mannequins are placed in high-traffic areas; his feet and his staring at customers is getting quite annoying. He’s creating a person traffic-jam, as if he cares.

Twenty-minutes later, he’s still sitting there, and obviously no one else has said anything to him. It’s a busy day, so everyone seems to be at the registers. A final time, I ask if he’s still okay, trying to give the hint that he needs to move on–go squat in a cardboard box in the alley or something, you’re wasting retail space, and making it look rather unattractive.

He turns and yells at me, “Why? You doing okay? Huh? You doing okay? What, you still doing okay?” He says some expletives including f-words, ‘f-you’ and gets aggressive with me. This is one of the first times I felt my insides explode, where I wanted to tell him off–not out of fear, but if I needed to, he’d have an entire mannequin swinging at his forehead. I was still not used to the obnoxiously low intelligence of the customers we deal with daily, and their utter lack of social skills. Later, I find out from supervisors in such situations I am empowered to act, and if I am not able to speak up, a manager would have asked him to leave the premises and not return. Their money isn’t good here anymore.

Of course, I go to find a manager since I’m flabbergasted, and of course, by the time I return with one, he’s already gone. This is one reason I take things into my own hands. Too many customers tend to forget everyone is a human being, even if we work in retail store and customer service–the customer and the salesperson is still human, not master and slave. We also forget these are rules we created.  “Once the customer crosses a line, they aren’t customers anymore”–this too is only a perception and belief because of social norms. The roles can always reverse.

Customer Type: The Dumb, Don’t Kill the Messenger, Lowered Expectations, Piggies

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F-ing B

December 5, 2009

An angry faced father comes up to the counter with his daughter and throws down a pile of clothes at me. I ask if he found everything okay, and he doesn’t reply–his shades being worn indoors reveals nothing. My manager once said wearing shades inside makes you look suspicious and ridiculous. The man pulls out his wallet and quickly swipes his card, then puts it back into his wallet, and puts it away. The clothes is a mess of twisted and inside-out apparel. I try to re-fold it nicely, scanning the items one at a time. I press total, and now minutes later, the register is ready for his swipe.

*Please Swipe Your Card*
The man stares at the screen for several seconds, then grumbles, “It says to swipe my card!”
“It wasn’t ready before, but now you can swipe.”
“You fucking bitch,” he swears at me as he pulls out his wallet and violently swipes his card again. Really? The things I need to put up with.

Customer Type: Big Baby

Fuck-You-People.

December 5, 2009

I’m standing at the register, and a man comes up to buy a turtle-neck sweater and a pair of pants. We have a sale–if you buy pair of pants, you get a free thermal shirt. Thermal is a type knit, cloth, material woven with a honeycomb design. The honeycomb design is made to hold in warmth, so even if it feels lightweight, it still provides ample warmth. A thermal is a thermal, and it is definitely not a turtle-neck sweater. A turtle-neck sweater is thick like a sweater, but the neck extends–like a turtle. So I tell him, “The sale is for a thermal shirt.”

He stands, glaring at me, and says, “The guy… he said this counts,” shaking the turtle-neck in my face.
I ask, “Who?” Because I am the only ‘guy’ on the sales floor. I see the customer’s face, a mix of irritation as I revealed his lie. I sure don’t remember some angry man that a turtle-neck is a thermal.
So he takes me to a table jabbing his finger at the sign, “It says right here!”
“Buy a pair of pants, get a thermal… You’re buying a turtle-neck sweater.” (Which also costs twice as much as the thermals, mind you.) I guess since his first lie didn’t work, he’d try to convince me that I’m blind and dumb. I am unmoved by his lack of style-sense or literacy. Also considering he is a gay man, I actually expect him to have better fashion knowledge.
So he whispers loudly, “Fuck you people! I’m not buying anything!” He storms out in a huff, throwing the clothes on the side.

His partner laughs nervously, because obviously, the partner still wants a free thermal to go with the pants he is buying, and the partner can read signs. Too bad they didn’t read the sign together. So the angry, swearing man has to wait outside while his other-half finishes shopping, getting the correct deal and not making himself look like an angry, babbling fool.

Customer Type: Big Baby, The Blind, The Liar