Wierd people in the grocery store
Sep. 25th, 2004 11:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matrixrefugeeCross-posted from "customerssuck"... If you've wondered why I've been so deathly quiet the past few days, this is why:
I was about halfway through my shift yesterday afternoon when this 14 or 15 year old kid (old enough to know better!!) comes in through the door... riding on a bicyle. For that matter, it was a kid-sized bike and the kid had just about grown out of it, which only made it funnier to watch as he had to stand up on the pedals to avoid kneeing himself in the chest as he pedalled. Several customers, and unfortunately some of the baggers and cashiers started giggling at this sight. Finally, "Jim", the front-end manager's assistant, came up to the kid and told him he'd have to take the bicycle outside, "You can't be riding a bike in here, you might crash into someone and hurt them or yourself." To which the kid replied, "I'm not riding it...." My immediate thought was, 'If you aren't riding a bicycle, what the heck are you doing? Playing the trumpet?!' But there was more to the kid's answer: "I'm just pushing it in here so it won't get stolen." So Jim was about to escort the kid out, when the kid turned around and went out by his own -- and the bicycle's -- power.
One of the grocery clerks then added her two cents: "Ooh, I'm gonna start wearin' my rollerblades in here!" But of course Jim put the kibosh on that.
For some reason, this talk of bicycles and rollerskates put me in mind of an old song "I've Got a New Key" by Melanie, particularly the first two lines of the first verse:
"I rode my bicycle past your window last night.
I rollerskated past your door at daylight..."
So naturally, my song-revising mind rewrote the first line as:
"I rode my bicycle through your grocery store last night...."
But I got stuck on the second line... Oh well!
Just about the third person I sacked for today when I was on shift was this older woman, whose long stringy grey hair put me in mind of a Halloween cardboard cut-out of a witch, with a case of loose cans of store-brand soda... and a case of the grouches as well, as you'll see.
Soda-Woman (SW): "I want you to ring these through on the case price, not the individual price. The other store down the street always does it that way for me."
Cashier: "I'm sorry, I don't know how to do that; I don't think I'm supposed to do that --"
SW: "Well, the cashier does at the other store!" (She looks right at me) "You there, you know how to do this for me?"
Me: ::Blank stare and shrug as if to say, "Don't look at me, I'm just a stupid bagger".::
SW: "Doesn't anyone here know how to do anything?! You weren't trained right! Go get me a manager, I want the case price on these! It's gonna cost more if I hafta pay the individual price. They're 25 cents each an' there's 25 of them. How much would that be?" (Looks around not just at the cashier and I, but also the guy waiting in line behind her.)
Me: "$6.25."
Finally Jim comes along...
SW: "You aren't training these girls right! Neither of them knows how to ring something through on the case price!"
Jim: ::Remaining calm:: (Points to me) "She doesn't know, because she's only a bagger. And it's [Insert Stor Name] policy that cashiers cannot ring up orders on the case price, only a manager or a front-end clerk can do that."
Jim rings the soda cans through on the case price.
SW: ::Walking away:: "I shoulda just gone to the other store!"
I nearly decided I was too sick to continue working: Too sick of customers' attitudes, that's what!!
I was about halfway through my shift yesterday afternoon when this 14 or 15 year old kid (old enough to know better!!) comes in through the door... riding on a bicyle. For that matter, it was a kid-sized bike and the kid had just about grown out of it, which only made it funnier to watch as he had to stand up on the pedals to avoid kneeing himself in the chest as he pedalled. Several customers, and unfortunately some of the baggers and cashiers started giggling at this sight. Finally, "Jim", the front-end manager's assistant, came up to the kid and told him he'd have to take the bicycle outside, "You can't be riding a bike in here, you might crash into someone and hurt them or yourself." To which the kid replied, "I'm not riding it...." My immediate thought was, 'If you aren't riding a bicycle, what the heck are you doing? Playing the trumpet?!' But there was more to the kid's answer: "I'm just pushing it in here so it won't get stolen." So Jim was about to escort the kid out, when the kid turned around and went out by his own -- and the bicycle's -- power.
One of the grocery clerks then added her two cents: "Ooh, I'm gonna start wearin' my rollerblades in here!" But of course Jim put the kibosh on that.
For some reason, this talk of bicycles and rollerskates put me in mind of an old song "I've Got a New Key" by Melanie, particularly the first two lines of the first verse:
"I rode my bicycle past your window last night.
I rollerskated past your door at daylight..."
So naturally, my song-revising mind rewrote the first line as:
"I rode my bicycle through your grocery store last night...."
But I got stuck on the second line... Oh well!
Just about the third person I sacked for today when I was on shift was this older woman, whose long stringy grey hair put me in mind of a Halloween cardboard cut-out of a witch, with a case of loose cans of store-brand soda... and a case of the grouches as well, as you'll see.
Soda-Woman (SW): "I want you to ring these through on the case price, not the individual price. The other store down the street always does it that way for me."
Cashier: "I'm sorry, I don't know how to do that; I don't think I'm supposed to do that --"
SW: "Well, the cashier does at the other store!" (She looks right at me) "You there, you know how to do this for me?"
Me: ::Blank stare and shrug as if to say, "Don't look at me, I'm just a stupid bagger".::
SW: "Doesn't anyone here know how to do anything?! You weren't trained right! Go get me a manager, I want the case price on these! It's gonna cost more if I hafta pay the individual price. They're 25 cents each an' there's 25 of them. How much would that be?" (Looks around not just at the cashier and I, but also the guy waiting in line behind her.)
Me: "$6.25."
Finally Jim comes along...
SW: "You aren't training these girls right! Neither of them knows how to ring something through on the case price!"
Jim: ::Remaining calm:: (Points to me) "She doesn't know, because she's only a bagger. And it's [Insert Stor Name] policy that cashiers cannot ring up orders on the case price, only a manager or a front-end clerk can do that."
Jim rings the soda cans through on the case price.
SW: ::Walking away:: "I shoulda just gone to the other store!"
I nearly decided I was too sick to continue working: Too sick of customers' attitudes, that's what!!
Suggestion from Ruby...
Date: 2004-09-26 08:11 pm (UTC)Okay, so it doesn't QUITE rhyme...
About the soda lady...GAAAAHHHH!!! Reminds me of what goes on at the grocery down our main street: okay, to put this in perspective, in Europe, you'd be out of a job-- we don't have people to bag out groceries, the customer does that themselves. (When I was in the US this summer, I was SO pathetically awed: "You mean...the cashier does it FOR you?!?!")
Story One: The Bitter Old Korean Checkout Lady. There's this bitter old Korean checkout lady (BOKCL from this point on) at our grocery. Her only expression os a glare that says, "I want to squash you." So how does she check things out? SLOOOOOOWLY, because she hates you personally. She picks up item. Looks at it. Scans it SLOOOOOWLY. Because of how slow she scans it, of course, the bar code-reader can't read it. So that means she has to examine the item to see what's wrong with it. Look, look, look. Turns it over. Look, look, look. Scans it sliiiightly faster, so it actually registers! Whee! Then, if you're having the slightest TINY problem opening your stupid bloody plastic sack and making sure the items won't smash each other, she GLARES at you with this accusitory look, because, as you're the one preventing other people from sacking their groceries, YOU'RE holding up the line.
Story 2: The Absent-Minded Indian Guy. The AMIG picks up my bottle of milk. The lable has a slight tear on the barcode, so it can't register. Nevertheless, he spends FAR too long trying to flatten out the rip and scanning at new angles, while everybody in line is starting to glare at me. Finally he admits defeat and asks one clerk how much the milk is. She doesn't know. So he calls another worker, who-- not even walks,*moseys*-- to the cash register. AMIG sends Wyatt Earp back to the back of the store (of COURSE the item came from the exact opposite end of the store) to check the price. The guy takes off. Slooooowly. "Yup, ged alawng li'l dogies"-pace. Meanwhile, the rest of the line is ready to lynch me with a rope of salami. When Doc Holliday finally gets his arse back, the AMIG glares at ME because, obviously I deliberately grabbed a bottle with a ripped lable to make his life difficult.
I don't shop there anymore.