WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE????
I walked into the store tonight to see this:
That would be one of those nylon peds like in the shoe department to try on shoes, pulled over the neck of one of my Intimates mannequins, a cami wrapped around the neck, and a pants hanger tangled in the cami.
When I said something about it to a couple of co-workers, they said, "Oh yeah. I saw that."
...
Then WHY DIDN'T YOU FIX IT?
Problem the second.
There's this guy who comes into the store a couple of times a week. He's mentally challenged and has a tendency to wander around town. He's shown up at the dance studio a couple of times too.
He starts by going over to the beauty department and spraying himself with copious amounts of several different kinds of cologne and perfume. Including spraying it into his mouth. He then wanders through the store, follows the young girls around (calling them "pretty lady"), with a cloud of perfume in his wake that makes the entire store smell and every employee and customer cough and sneeze.
We generally viewed him as a major annoyance but generally harmless.
We have a new head of Loss Prevention. She saw him the first time a few days ago and called our last head of Loss Prevention to get the lowdown on him.
Today, she saw him on the cameras, came out of the office and was watching him. He had wandered past me in Intimates while I was cleaning like, 4 times, but he has a tendency to do that to me and stare at me. Anyway, LP Chick comes up to me and S whom I am talking to in the aisle.
LP Chick: Where'd he go?
Me: Oh he's here all the time. He's harmless.
LP: No. He went into the Mens fitting room with some women's panties, and he just came out, said "I'm sorry" to me, and is somewhere putting them back.
O.O
We watch him for a bit, doing something by the wall. I announced I was going to go find some rubber gloves and I'd be back.
I come out of the bathroom where the cleaning lady who has the rubber gloves is, and LP Chick is there.
Me: What's going on?
LP: He started following me around, so I came back here to hide.
Me: *waves rubber gloves* Show me where.
I snap on the rubber gloves like a proctologist ready to go to work.
We go over to the wall where he was messing around, and she points at two pairs of panties, hung sideways on hangers, and shoved behind other panties. I pull the first one off and look at it.
It. Has. Stains.
I grab the panties in front and the ones behind.
Rinse and repeat with the second ones. Also. Has. Stains.
I went up to the front where the manager was to ask him how he wanted me to damage the 6 pairs of panties, whether I should yank the tags off to damage and toss the panties in the garbage, or wrap everything in a plastic bag. While we're talking, guess who comes up and decides he wants to talk to me and LP Chick.
Awesome Manager to Creepy Guy: Did you do something you shouldn't have with these panties?
CG: No.
AM: You took them into the fitting room with you.
CG: No I didn't.
AM: Our security people saw you on the cameras. You took the panties in there and now they're stained.
CG: No. It wasn't me.
AM: You can't do this again. You're not allowed to go into the fitting rooms anymore, understand?
CG: Ok. Bye.
I bring the panties to customer service and start pulling the tags off to damage them. I tell the women at service that I need a bag.
R: What happened?
Me: You don't want to know.
R: Yes I do.
Me: No. You really don't.
R: Did someone try them on?
Me: No.
Customer: Did someone get sick?
Me: No.
R: You're really not going to tell us, are you?
Me: No. You really don't want me to.
Customer: Now I'm dying to find out.
About 20 minutes after I have finished dealing with this nightmare, I get called up to the register. The customer from the service desk comes into my line and asks me again.
Customer: You're really not going to tell me what happened, are you?
Me: Nope.
Customer: That weird guy.. he did something nasty in the fitting room, didn't he?
Me: *sigh* Yes.
Customer: That's so awful, some people, yadda yadda yadda.
She then proceeds to tell me about a shirt she found on the Men's fitting room rack right after the guy came out of there, that is stained and nasty and tells me she left it on the rack.
..
..
Really???? You find something like that and don't tell anyone?
When I left the register, I went straight to the rack and found the shirt.
I gagged.
I'm still gagging right now just thinking about it.
At the store we have color codes for certain alerts. Medical emergency is a Code Blue. Fire is a Code Red. Missing child is a different color. Etc. It's meant to not panic the customers or to not let a kidnapper know they have a kid... that kind of thing.
M at the store started referring to shit (literal, not "a mess") found somewhere in the store that needs to be cleaned as a Code Brown.
I want to know what cleaning up cum-stained clothing is.
I also want a g-ddamned medal.
I hate that fucking place.