Whoever made Labor Day a day that I have to work should be drawn and quartered....
@_@
Never again. God, if it hadn't been a holiday and they had tried to call me in to work an eight hour shift instead of the five hour I was originally scheduled for, I would've said no.
Hell no...there's no fucking way.
Can I just take a minute right now to say that there are some fucking stupid people in my line at work sometimes?! I'm sorry, but if the debit machine does not work for you, how, may I ask, is that *my* fault? I'm not the operator and I'm sure as hell not screwing it up!
A lady came through my line this evening with her husband/boyfriend/whoever he was. They were both very nice at first. However, I work in Washington, where there is 7.7% sales tax on all purchases except for food, unless it's hot and ready to eat. They're from Oregon, so they need a tax exemption form. No problem. The man fills it out because it's his debit card and his driver's license.
I need you to leave your driver's license out so I can correct any mistakes you may have made on the form and verify that all information is correct. Some people don't understand this, and apparently, neither did this lady. "You're the first person ever to do that...it's correct."
Me: it's company policy. I just double-check to make sure that everything is filled out properly." (Note that it wasn't filled out right....)
Then when I rang up the total and took off the tax, she said that it was on debit. I punched the debit key and they waited expectantly for it to process. Umm, when it shows "Select Debit Payment" on my register's screen, the information from the card has either been cleared or the machine has been inactive for too long. This is not my fault--it's a built-in safeguard so that someone else behind you cannot use your card. I told them that the card needed to be ran on their end through the debit machine.
Bitchy lady: We already ran it through.
Me: I know, but it didn't register, so I'll need you to...
Lady cuts me off at this point and goes "I know, it's *company policy*, right? (Note her sarcasm on those two words.)
Me: Actually, no. Sometimes it just doesn't run for some reason. It could've cleared itself.
So she reruns the card and when the till drawer finally opens, I grab the receipt and their twenty dollars they asked for on cash back, she *grabs* the items out of my hand before I even hand them to her, glares at me, and declares snottily "Thanks a lot, Stephanie!"
God, what a bitch. I'm sorry, but what crawled up your ass and died? And how the hell is it *my* fault when operator error was what caused the damn problem? The fucking button you press to begin with has to be pressed *hard* to start the debit machine and all of its questions!
......
Can I break something? Please? God, I hope every single bitchy customer has to work on the other side of the counter just once in their life. Then maybe they'll realize exactly the kind of shit we put up with EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Of course, they can't say anything snotty back to the bitchy customer that may be in their line, either. It could cost them their job.
Sometimes I *really* hate working retail....I can't wait until I've got my teaching certification for high school English and I can begin teaching instead of working at Fred Meyer. I love the people I work with and most of my customers that always go through my line and ask how school and life are going, but God, it's just some customers that act like total asses that make me hate my job sometimes.
For now, though....it's time for me to study and get ready for classes on Wednesday. Lucky me.
>.<
Drinks, anyone? I could use a rum and coke, a sex on the beach, and a bathtub full of bubbles right now. Hell, I could *definitely* use a massage and lots of painkillers for my tailbone right now!
Never again. God, if it hadn't been a holiday and they had tried to call me in to work an eight hour shift instead of the five hour I was originally scheduled for, I would've said no.
Hell no...there's no fucking way.
Can I just take a minute right now to say that there are some fucking stupid people in my line at work sometimes?! I'm sorry, but if the debit machine does not work for you, how, may I ask, is that *my* fault? I'm not the operator and I'm sure as hell not screwing it up!
A lady came through my line this evening with her husband/boyfriend/whoever he was. They were both very nice at first. However, I work in Washington, where there is 7.7% sales tax on all purchases except for food, unless it's hot and ready to eat. They're from Oregon, so they need a tax exemption form. No problem. The man fills it out because it's his debit card and his driver's license.
I need you to leave your driver's license out so I can correct any mistakes you may have made on the form and verify that all information is correct. Some people don't understand this, and apparently, neither did this lady. "You're the first person ever to do that...it's correct."
Me: it's company policy. I just double-check to make sure that everything is filled out properly." (Note that it wasn't filled out right....)
Then when I rang up the total and took off the tax, she said that it was on debit. I punched the debit key and they waited expectantly for it to process. Umm, when it shows "Select Debit Payment" on my register's screen, the information from the card has either been cleared or the machine has been inactive for too long. This is not my fault--it's a built-in safeguard so that someone else behind you cannot use your card. I told them that the card needed to be ran on their end through the debit machine.
Bitchy lady: We already ran it through.
Me: I know, but it didn't register, so I'll need you to...
Lady cuts me off at this point and goes "I know, it's *company policy*, right? (Note her sarcasm on those two words.)
Me: Actually, no. Sometimes it just doesn't run for some reason. It could've cleared itself.
So she reruns the card and when the till drawer finally opens, I grab the receipt and their twenty dollars they asked for on cash back, she *grabs* the items out of my hand before I even hand them to her, glares at me, and declares snottily "Thanks a lot, Stephanie!"
God, what a bitch. I'm sorry, but what crawled up your ass and died? And how the hell is it *my* fault when operator error was what caused the damn problem? The fucking button you press to begin with has to be pressed *hard* to start the debit machine and all of its questions!
......
Can I break something? Please? God, I hope every single bitchy customer has to work on the other side of the counter just once in their life. Then maybe they'll realize exactly the kind of shit we put up with EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Of course, they can't say anything snotty back to the bitchy customer that may be in their line, either. It could cost them their job.
Sometimes I *really* hate working retail....I can't wait until I've got my teaching certification for high school English and I can begin teaching instead of working at Fred Meyer. I love the people I work with and most of my customers that always go through my line and ask how school and life are going, but God, it's just some customers that act like total asses that make me hate my job sometimes.
For now, though....it's time for me to study and get ready for classes on Wednesday. Lucky me.
>.<
Drinks, anyone? I could use a rum and coke, a sex on the beach, and a bathtub full of bubbles right now. Hell, I could *definitely* use a massage and lots of painkillers for my tailbone right now!