so we meet again. not that you'd remember because you are too important. oh and you suck.

On Friday, I was walking past one of the counters when I intercepted a problematic transaction between one of my young co-workers and a customer. I came in closer to observe, all the while looking busy. After listening for about 5 seconds, a wave of adrenaline came over me. Like a crime victim, I immediately remembered the customer from one of her other transactions 2 years ago.

Here she was again, this time trying to return an item that we have NEVER CARRIED at our store. She was so horrible and insistent that she bought it from us that the owner/buyer went through her records just to double check, even though there was no such item in inventory, no employee remembered the item, and she had no receipt.

My co-worker was amazing. So cheerful and helpful, offering solutions for repair after we said, in the nicest way, that we would not take back the item. The customer, dead set on being right, asked when the store came under new ownership. With extreme pleasure, I told her that it was the same owner, just as it has been for the past 4 decades. In other words, bitch you're wrong and we all know what you're up to.

This time, we found out her name. I made a note in the system that she was a problem returner and should only be handled by management. I googled her. I allowed myself some revenge fantasies (a subscription to International Male; army recruitment applications, plastic surgery brochures). Of course, I would never DO anything because I am not only a good person, but I am professional.

Basically, I was just glad that someone else experienced her horribleness so that I don't feel like I was exaggerating or fabricating. Next time she comes in, with what I'm sure will be a complicated, questionable return, we will be ready.

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.

The "C" word (customers)

Yesterday was one of the most annoying days ever. Nearly everyone I helped treated me with some level of jerkiness. And I didn't get a morning break because we were short staffed and demoing the popcorn machine. I did stuff my face full of popcorn, discreetly, on the sales floor.

Here's the major jerks:

-The old lady freaking out about sink saddles. One of my co-workers called her to let her know that sink saddles were back in stock. So imagine her dismay when she made a trip in and discovered that they are not the sink saddle she wants! The sink saddles we have are clear with drain holes on the sides. The sink saddle she wants is white and without drain holes. No matter how many times I told her that the clear one is the only sink saddle we have, she just wouldn't except it. I looked up inventory in the computer and saw that in past we did sell another sink saddle, and though I am not sure if it was the one she wants, the description said white. But that one was discontinued and we don't have any and we haven't had any since 2004. Though I hated to do it, the only way I got the bitch to shut up was to tell her that my co-worker must have been mistaken about the sink saddles.

-Yesterday there was a St. Patrick's Day parade that went right past the store. I didn't know there was going to be one. For several personal reasons, parades sort of depress me. Plus, I just don't give a shit about parades. Before I knew there was going to be a parade, I had a customer ask me what was going on. I said I didn't know and then immediately turned to my co-worker and asked if there "was a parade or something?" Then the customer told me that I should know about such things for when people ask. Why is it my job to be the community events information booth? He lives here too and he didn't know about the parade either. Dude, you can go shove a shamrock up your ass.

-The lady who asked me what materials made up the outdoor furniture. When I told her it was wrought iron, she freaked out and went on a tirade about rust. She was bitching about something she didn't even buy at our store. I didn't mention the 37 years worth of testimonials from hundreds of other customers about how well the furniture holds up. Sometimes you just have to let them dump and leave.

-I had a customer call and ask me about our stainless steel stovetop espresso makers. She asked me the style name. I read it off of the box. "Class." And then she laughed at me. Not like, "oh, what a funny name for a stovetop espresso maker!" but "you idiot! It cannot POSSIBLY be called Class!" But you can see for yourself, via the link, that the fucking thing is indeed called Class.

Customer quotes

- "Oh, no thanks. I get enjoyment just looking around and drinking your coffee." Response to whether customer wanted to receive our infrequent mailer.

- "Do you have a garbage can? My daughter just started her period."

- "Are these the only credenzas you have?" I think the word "credenza" is hilarious. Especially when it is made plural.

- "I could never work here. I'd spend my whole paycheck." This is not a new quote. People say this all the time. But it never gets less ridiculous.

- "Must be nice to be in a business with people lined up to get in." A woman said this to me when I opened the door 2 minutes before opening time on Sunday. What amazes me is that people get irritated that we generally stick to our posted hours. The staff's hours are carefully budgeted. If we started keeping the store open for kicks, we wouldn't last long.

- "Do the scales know carbs?" She was talking about kitchen scales for dieting. The notion that scales could sense what food is on them is absurd. There are other scales which might know carbs, though not in the way she meant . . .

French Press Jerk

On Sundays we open at noon. I do not open the doors at 11:37 because the rest of the staff is not there, the tills are not ready, and I do not have to open until 12:00.

Last Sunday, at about 11:37 a.m., I saw a young man yank on the door. He had a french press in his hand, which means he was probably after a new glass beaker to replace a broken one. He looked down at the posted hours and then walked away.

When I did open the doors at 11:56 a.m., he was sitting outside our doors with his french press. He asked the price of replacement beakers. I led him to the coffee supply section. After I told him the beaker price, he unloaded his little planned speech:

"Wow. Your replacement beakers are almost as much as a new french press. Yea, I already went and bought a new french press because you guys opened late. Thanks though."

As we parted ways I said "we open at 12:00 on Sundays" to remind him that we opened right on time.

So he found that we were closed, went somewhere else for 15 minutes to buy a new french press, then came back to wait outside the store so he could "punish" me by telling me he didn't need the thing he had needed because he went somewhere else and bought it AND it was cheaper AND we opened "late."

Um, jerk.

When you serve coffee at work . . .

double cups
cups on shelves
sugar dumps
kids playing in the coffee
hobos in the coffee
coffee regulars
coffee pot overflow
end of day cleanup
impossible to open sugar shaker
gross warm milk
running out of milk
gut rot coffee made without love
talking about the coffee
it's not hot enough
it's not decaf
wasted coffee
help yourself to some coffee
BWAC! BWAC! "You're out of coffee!"

Yet another way I don't want to die at work

I don't want to be slashed with an 8 inch Japanese cook's knife by a deranged man that comes in for free coffee.

There is no crèma in coffee-snob Hell

Yesterday was my 6th day of work in a row, which is not so much really, but I am not used to it there. I was so fragile that started to shake and went pale when I dealt with a scheming bitch that was insisting on a sketchy exchange of a stovetop espresso maker. She ruined my day, and although I hate to let that happen, sometimes it just does. All I can say is that there is a special cauldron in hell waiting for her where she can spend the rest of eternity with her kind drinking bad, bitter coffee and eating nothing but jell-o salads.