Monday, March 28, 2011

I'm going to blog the shit out of you

The other day I had this customer come in 50 minutes before the store closed and purchase a LARGE, HEAVY piece of furniture. I started the whole delivery-for-a-nominal-fee versus "free" pick-up conversation. The customer asked (basically quote) "don't you have some beefy guys that can throw it in the back of my truck?" And I'm, like, "No." I thought he was joking. His tone was even sort of jokey, so I was playful. But when I chuckled and said no, shit got desperately serious.

He actually thought that we paid warehouse guys to stand around the store JUST IN CASE someone wanted to cheap out on delivery and have them hall a clearance floor model piece of furniture to a customer vehicle instead. The customer became pissy and wondered off to bitch into his cell phone. Meanwhile, I called the warehouse in a panic, hoping that someone was still there and that they would be able to hotfoot it over and haul the merch.

Luckily, someone was at the warehouse and he cheerfully came to help. BUT bitchy man customer was still put out EVEN THOUGH HE WAS GETTING EXACTLY WHAT HE WANTED (in all caps). He sat and pouted for the 12 minutes it took the warehouse staff to get there. I couldn't even look at him. When I did get a glimpse of him in my peripheral, I wanted to puke because he felt the need to keep being a jerk with this silent pissy attitude. Like, let it go man. And though the same could be said for ME, I will say in my defense that I get over situations pretty quickly. If there is some residual crappiness, I write there. But I honestly try to be humble, see both sides, and fucking forgive.

All I could think to pacify myself when he was sitting there is: "I'm gonna blog the shit out of you, unreasonable, stupid man." And that was reassuring.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Things I'm tired of hearing you bitch about

- the amount of time it takes our professionals to gift wrap something. I'd like to see you wrap anything that fast.

- how hard it is to find a good basket.

- the length of the receipt. And I know you won't read it.

- the duty you must pay when taking goods into your country. I don't make up the rules. Go back to your country and run for Parliament or something.

- and this isn't something customers bitch about, but I am tired of hearing you eat the food that we sample. Gross. You make me lose my appetite.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

bordeaux, bored-o

Customers were very needy today. I did a lot of hand-holding. For some people, I don't mind being a substitute friend, but others make me want to gouge my eyes out with bamboo toaster tongs.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

I know we don't always get to choose . . .

I really don't want to die at work.

When I hear stories about some car driving through a front window and smashing a woman at her desk or read stories like this, I think "wow it really could happen." This is not even taking into account the possibility of natural disasters.

So, since any of us could go at any time, I am trying to be even more jolly about having a job and going to work so that if I die there, I DIE FUCKING HAPPY. And know where all the exits and flashlights are located. With my record of awkward and poor timing for important matters, there is a good chance I will be behind the tills.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

HIGHLIGHTS

-Ever since I watched this episode of Portlandia, I cannot look at bird merch the same way. I have been sick of birds and this was the "nail in the coffin". So when a future bride was buying a bunch of ceramic birds for her bird-themed wedding, I could only sigh. What animal will be the next bird? (By the way, I love real birds. I am just sick of them stuck on everything, as demonstrated in the Portlandia clip).

-Still amazed by the phenomena that when you need to put something back in a store devoid of customers, there will be someone standing right in front of the display which you are needing to return an item. This never stops being weird.

-I am in hate with Debit. Ok, ok. It saves the store a few bucks here and there, which I can appreciate. But debit transactions require a certain amount of precision and interaction for which I do not always have time. Classic example: the distracted mommy. She says debit, I say enter PIN, but she is gone chasing her kid. If I was smart, I am still holding the debit card so that when the opportunity to enter the PIN times out, I can easily reswipe the card without having to ask for it again. BUT, I am often hasty, and that leads to the time consuming job of asking for the card again, explaining that they were not already charged (as they most often think), and going through the PIN entering process again. OH! Error in entering PIN. Please try again. Nope, not the green button, the yellow button. Ok there you go. Cross our fingers and hope it works.

-Evil me: There is this homeless?/ne'er do well man that has been coming in nearly every day, sometimes several times a day. He seems harmless enough, and I get the sense that he is itching to talk to us about making displays, like, he wants to pretend that he works at the store or maybe he just wants to work. ANYWAY, he does not and I get frustrated because I end up babysitting him and his pack and I don't want to be unkind, but I also have a lot more to do than to be 3 hours of entertainment. So I end up going out of my way to NOT engage him because I don't want to have to talk to him for 15 minute intervals.

-Just because you saw something at Starbucks doesn't mean it is a good idea.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

If you care enough to care

The other day I had a customer buy a few items, including a card. The price tag was stuck right on the card since it was not one of those with the wasteful plastic sleeve. We were half way through the transaction when the customer became pissed that the price tag would not cleanly come off the card.

I asked if she wanted to return it, half serious, because usually when I ask that for any customer hesitations, they say, "well, no!" But this lady said yes and then scolded me for putting price tags on the cards. "You should just have a sign that says that price of the cards!" I couldn't even respond. She wouldn't understand. She is obviously not one to observe the quantity and scale and enormity of the card section and the pace at which it rotates. Perhaps she thinks she is in a old-timey general store.

Sugar...8 cents per pound.
Eggs...20 cents a dozen.
Cards...$3.50 each

As I have stated before, who fucking cares how much a card costs? Don't most people know that they can cost anywhere from free to $6? Who was scandalized last time they went to Hallmark? Besides, people throw cards away, and probably before a date that the issuer would find acceptable. Maybe if the tag was left on, the recipient would keep it for a few years out of guilt.