Last week I had a guy come in who wanted to make a modification to his suspenders. He had a problem: his considerable tummy splayed the 'spenders to either side and they wouldn't keep his pants up. He told me something off-color about girls' skirts blowing in the wind, but with men, you just gotta worry about their pants falling down, heh heh. He starts to raise his shirt so I can see his problem for myself. I just couldn't take it. I thought for sure he was getting ready to show me his privates and you know, I just wasn't in the mood for it. I held up my hand and shook my head and said "Sir, I just don't have it in me today . . . " and walked off.
A first.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Peoples are Strange
The other day I got to visiting with a customer who was looking for something that we no longer carry in the store, but to be honest, I have a bazillion of at home. I bought out what was left when they were put on clearance. So I told her, zap me an email and I'd send her some.
Seriously, they're small and I have more than I'll ever use, and I like sharing things with artsy people.
I promise I was not attempting to get her address so I could stalk her.
She did email me, and said that she'd pick them up at the store rather than have me mail them.
I should've insisted that I'd mail them.
Because instead of coming in herself, she sent a friend. A friend who didn't know exactly what she was looking for, and came in, and was snitty to the woman at the register for not knowing what was going on. Turns out, the woman at the register, was my boss. Yes, she didn't know where to look for the Asian coins, and responded to the woman that we don't carry them, but it wasn't long before she figured out that I'd put them in a sack in our hold bin.
I don't get it. Why do people act so rudely to clerks? Why not act with a little patience and tolerance? Even if she didn't realize I was doing her friend a favor, why did she have to get snitty?
In exchange for doing a stranger a favor, I got my boss snitted at. It just makes my heart quake with angriness.
sigh.
Seriously, they're small and I have more than I'll ever use, and I like sharing things with artsy people.
I promise I was not attempting to get her address so I could stalk her.
She did email me, and said that she'd pick them up at the store rather than have me mail them.
I should've insisted that I'd mail them.
Because instead of coming in herself, she sent a friend. A friend who didn't know exactly what she was looking for, and came in, and was snitty to the woman at the register for not knowing what was going on. Turns out, the woman at the register, was my boss. Yes, she didn't know where to look for the Asian coins, and responded to the woman that we don't carry them, but it wasn't long before she figured out that I'd put them in a sack in our hold bin.
I don't get it. Why do people act so rudely to clerks? Why not act with a little patience and tolerance? Even if she didn't realize I was doing her friend a favor, why did she have to get snitty?
In exchange for doing a stranger a favor, I got my boss snitted at. It just makes my heart quake with angriness.
sigh.
My Hero
Everyone's concerned about the economy and at the store it's no different.
We're trying to keep expenses down, and the other day the boss asked that we try to use up this stack of bags that's cheaper than our normal "Thank you" with handles "t-shirt" bag. Problem is, these bags are annoying. They look okay when you pull them out, but as soon as you put anything in them, the gussets expand and suddenly the bag is wider than it is tall and tends to want to spit out the contents.
We dutifully attempted to use this bag for the next customer who came in. We stuffed in her stamped goods, her embroidery floss, and chocolate bars. She tried to pick it up, experienced the content spit out factor, and directly took the whole bag and dropped it into one of the t-shirt bags hanging in the dispenser on the counter and walked out.
My hero.
We're trying to keep expenses down, and the other day the boss asked that we try to use up this stack of bags that's cheaper than our normal "Thank you" with handles "t-shirt" bag. Problem is, these bags are annoying. They look okay when you pull them out, but as soon as you put anything in them, the gussets expand and suddenly the bag is wider than it is tall and tends to want to spit out the contents.
We dutifully attempted to use this bag for the next customer who came in. We stuffed in her stamped goods, her embroidery floss, and chocolate bars. She tried to pick it up, experienced the content spit out factor, and directly took the whole bag and dropped it into one of the t-shirt bags hanging in the dispenser on the counter and walked out.
My hero.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Science Fair
A youngish couple comes in, picks out a display board. They're quietly talking to each other at the register.
Clerk: "When's your project due?"
Couple: "Tomorrow."
Clerk: "Oh. What grade are you in?"
Couple: sheepish "Third."
Clerk: brightly "Good luck!"
Man: "It's not going to be this way next year."
Clerk to self: "Yeah, sure." Shakes her head with a been-there smile.
Clerk: "When's your project due?"
Couple: "Tomorrow."
Clerk: "Oh. What grade are you in?"
Couple: sheepish "Third."
Clerk: brightly "Good luck!"
Man: "It's not going to be this way next year."
Clerk to self: "Yeah, sure." Shakes her head with a been-there smile.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Bonus
Crazy Cat Lady did come in tonight. She was still miffed at me for my giggles the last time she was in. She hardly spoke to me at all. But she brought herself to ask if I was sure I'd rung up her fabric correctly.
That's the thing about CCL. She's always paranoid that we're trying to cheat her. The last time she was in, that I was there, was actually a return visit to check up on whether the night shift clerk had written down her fabric purchase correctly on the frequent buyers club card . . . Alice, (who she has compared to Mother Theresa), was helping another customer and said she'd write a note to herself to check it out . . she wasn't sure that Alice would remember so she had me write a note to remind Alice about HER note . . . well, about twenty minutes later she came sneaking in . . . tried to slip past the register without me seeing her, and I turned to another co-worker and giggled, I bet you anything she's going over to check up on Alice!
Well, joke was on me--she caught me and came over and asked me what I was whispering about! Ooops!
Luckily just that day there had been an article about her in the paper:
http://journalstar.com/articles/2008/12/29/news/local/doc4958398b8e1f3932205029.txt#cancel
so I thought I was pretty smooth when I said that I was just pointing out to my friend that she's the one the story was about.
She didn't buy it, and has been giving me the cold shoulder ever since.
Oh darn. No more stories about her cat, no more standing beside her "helping" her pick out fabrics for cat pillows (when no matter what I thought, my opinion was WRONG.)
That's the thing about CCL. She's always paranoid that we're trying to cheat her. The last time she was in, that I was there, was actually a return visit to check up on whether the night shift clerk had written down her fabric purchase correctly on the frequent buyers club card . . . Alice, (who she has compared to Mother Theresa), was helping another customer and said she'd write a note to herself to check it out . . she wasn't sure that Alice would remember so she had me write a note to remind Alice about HER note . . . well, about twenty minutes later she came sneaking in . . . tried to slip past the register without me seeing her, and I turned to another co-worker and giggled, I bet you anything she's going over to check up on Alice!
Well, joke was on me--she caught me and came over and asked me what I was whispering about! Ooops!
Luckily just that day there had been an article about her in the paper:
http://journalstar.com/articles/2008/12/29/news/local/doc4958398b8e1f3932205029.txt#cancel
so I thought I was pretty smooth when I said that I was just pointing out to my friend that she's the one the story was about.
She didn't buy it, and has been giving me the cold shoulder ever since.
Oh darn. No more stories about her cat, no more standing beside her "helping" her pick out fabrics for cat pillows (when no matter what I thought, my opinion was WRONG.)
Loads of Memorial Day Flowers
Today we got in about twenty coffin sized boxes of Memorial Day Flowers: wreaths, crosses with sprays, "pillows" that say things like mother, father, son, beloved . . . it was pretty intense opening all those boxes and getting them all priced and on display.
The most memorable customer today was a super sweet young woman . . . 18? 19? who came in with two kids, a boy and a girl, both wearing thick glasses, both probably pre-K. They spent their time choosing candy, they came up to pay, she brought out her credit card, and when I rang it through it came up "Card Lost or Stolen". Shoot! Turns out she just got a new card but was still carrying the old one, and she didn't have any other money on her . . . if I would've had $5 in my pocket I would've bought the candy for them.
The most memorable customer today was a super sweet young woman . . . 18? 19? who came in with two kids, a boy and a girl, both wearing thick glasses, both probably pre-K. They spent their time choosing candy, they came up to pay, she brought out her credit card, and when I rang it through it came up "Card Lost or Stolen". Shoot! Turns out she just got a new card but was still carrying the old one, and she didn't have any other money on her . . . if I would've had $5 in my pocket I would've bought the candy for them.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Mardi Gras
Tuesday.
A very large man comes in to the store. Asks for Mardi Gras beads. I point him to the display of purple, green and gold beads. He looks for a minute then turns to me: "Don't you have any that are a little less, um, feminine?"
I was floored. I tried to wrap my mind around it then I had to ask. "I don't know--what exactly makes the difference between feminine beads and masculine beads? As far as I know, these would work for either gender."
He bought them.
A very large man comes in to the store. Asks for Mardi Gras beads. I point him to the display of purple, green and gold beads. He looks for a minute then turns to me: "Don't you have any that are a little less, um, feminine?"
I was floored. I tried to wrap my mind around it then I had to ask. "I don't know--what exactly makes the difference between feminine beads and masculine beads? As far as I know, these would work for either gender."
He bought them.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Memories of Childhood
I had a dream last night that my brothers and I were eating lunch at the Dumb Diner. It's a goofy dream I have repeatedly. I think it has something to do with being in Talmage, the town where our parents had a service station, and eating at the Surly Burgers Cafe, our pet name for the local restaurant/bar. It was a special place where the woman who owned it AND was the head cook, was often over-inebriated. One famous day we ordered the specials off the chalk board and she turned to us and said "What do you think this is, a restaurant?" Meanwhile at the Dumb Diner, which exists only in my dreams, the woman offered us meatloaf. It was the special. An hour later we confronted her about when it might be ready. She thought about 8pm. I told her "That's a fucking load of crap" and we all laughed and ordered more beer . . .
Good times.
Good times.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
The Big Sale
Today we had a 20% off sale going on at the store. Buzz, buzz, buzz . . . the peoples were excited.
My favorite customers were the husband-wife team who were shopping the puzzle aisle. We have approximately umpteen million puzzles. They were very excited about the news that they were going to get 20% off. Husband asked me a bunch of questions about puzzles--why some have higher prices, that sort of thing. So I shared my vast wealth of knowledge; special purchases where we pass on the savings, companies that use thinner cardboard and different piece sizes, special artists who must be getting royalties (we hope.)
His wife picked one of a kitchen scene, sunny window and shelves of white stoneware, she said it seemed like such a happy scene. He was carrying one with a landscape on it, but when he saw her reaction to the kitchen, he said "Let's get that one!"
It was sweet to see them negotiate with each other. She didn't want to force the kitchen scene on him, didn't think it was his taste, he pointed out that after they do that one, they could come back and choose another . . .
I enjoyed basking in the vibe of these folks getting along.
My favorite customers were the husband-wife team who were shopping the puzzle aisle. We have approximately umpteen million puzzles. They were very excited about the news that they were going to get 20% off. Husband asked me a bunch of questions about puzzles--why some have higher prices, that sort of thing. So I shared my vast wealth of knowledge; special purchases where we pass on the savings, companies that use thinner cardboard and different piece sizes, special artists who must be getting royalties (we hope.)
His wife picked one of a kitchen scene, sunny window and shelves of white stoneware, she said it seemed like such a happy scene. He was carrying one with a landscape on it, but when he saw her reaction to the kitchen, he said "Let's get that one!"
It was sweet to see them negotiate with each other. She didn't want to force the kitchen scene on him, didn't think it was his taste, he pointed out that after they do that one, they could come back and choose another . . .
I enjoyed basking in the vibe of these folks getting along.
Unusual.
Today *I* was the Customer of the Day.
Usually I get along great with the Iranians who run the Greek diner in our shopping area. Usually I'm the one my co-workers tag to call in our orders, because they claim they can't understand their accents.
So it wasn't unusual that I called in the order or that I was the one who left the store to run over and pick it up. When I got back we were busy, so I left our lunch in the bag in our lunch area.
About fifteen minutes later, I opened the bag and found both orders had french fries when we both ordered the Greek potatoes, and instead of a gyro, my order had some sort of a sandwich wrap.
Darn!
So I ran it back across the street.
Mr. Iranian who is usually an absolute sweetheart--always has a smile & we always visit a bit--scolded me! He said "I give you order and you didn't bring it back! I had customers waiting and you took my order!"
I felt terrible. Everyone in the restaurant was staring at me. How could I?
Um, how could I know that whatever was inside the styrofoam clamshells WASN'T my lunch? I was sorry that I didn't check it earlier, but we were busy . . .
Anyhow, he tells me it will be twenty minutes before my lunch will be ready, I will need to come back.
I spent fifteen minutes feeling pretty lousy--although I knew it wasn't my fault--HE had handed ME the bag. . . . but still, I hate to make him lose the sale for his other customers. This little restaurant has really good food, but they're slow, and business does not seem to be brisk. I suspect many customers are like my co-workers--they can't understand his accent and so they're reluctant to deal with him.
When I returned, he was very apologetic. So. All's well that ends well. But I can only imagine what they had to say about me while they were waiting for me to figure out I had the wrong meal.
In my little world, I often end up the point man who gets to deal with the unusual people; are they hard to deal with? Curmudgeonly? Speak a different language? Deaf? Blind? Rude? Otherwise not cut out with THE cookie cutter? Those are my peeps.
Usually I get along great with the Iranians who run the Greek diner in our shopping area. Usually I'm the one my co-workers tag to call in our orders, because they claim they can't understand their accents.
So it wasn't unusual that I called in the order or that I was the one who left the store to run over and pick it up. When I got back we were busy, so I left our lunch in the bag in our lunch area.
About fifteen minutes later, I opened the bag and found both orders had french fries when we both ordered the Greek potatoes, and instead of a gyro, my order had some sort of a sandwich wrap.
Darn!
So I ran it back across the street.
Mr. Iranian who is usually an absolute sweetheart--always has a smile & we always visit a bit--scolded me! He said "I give you order and you didn't bring it back! I had customers waiting and you took my order!"
I felt terrible. Everyone in the restaurant was staring at me. How could I?
Um, how could I know that whatever was inside the styrofoam clamshells WASN'T my lunch? I was sorry that I didn't check it earlier, but we were busy . . .
Anyhow, he tells me it will be twenty minutes before my lunch will be ready, I will need to come back.
I spent fifteen minutes feeling pretty lousy--although I knew it wasn't my fault--HE had handed ME the bag. . . . but still, I hate to make him lose the sale for his other customers. This little restaurant has really good food, but they're slow, and business does not seem to be brisk. I suspect many customers are like my co-workers--they can't understand his accent and so they're reluctant to deal with him.
When I returned, he was very apologetic. So. All's well that ends well. But I can only imagine what they had to say about me while they were waiting for me to figure out I had the wrong meal.
In my little world, I often end up the point man who gets to deal with the unusual people; are they hard to deal with? Curmudgeonly? Speak a different language? Deaf? Blind? Rude? Otherwise not cut out with THE cookie cutter? Those are my peeps.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Thursday
Store was pretty quiet today until nearly lunchtime.
Customer: Did you watch the swearing in?
Clerk: Yes . .
Customer: Thing about it, have you shopped at Target lately?
Clerk: ?
Customer: There's lots of swearing there; menSWEAR, ladieSWEAR, kidSWEAR . . .
Clerk: huh.
Customer: Not like Walmart. It ought to be safe from terrorists . . . know why?
Clerk: ?
Customer: All the oranges have Naval Bases.
Fade to weary clerk still forcing a smile as Mister Cheerful leaves the store.
'
Customer: Did you watch the swearing in?
Clerk: Yes . .
Customer: Thing about it, have you shopped at Target lately?
Clerk: ?
Customer: There's lots of swearing there; menSWEAR, ladieSWEAR, kidSWEAR . . .
Clerk: huh.
Customer: Not like Walmart. It ought to be safe from terrorists . . . know why?
Clerk: ?
Customer: All the oranges have Naval Bases.
Fade to weary clerk still forcing a smile as Mister Cheerful leaves the store.
'
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Candy Day.
Somehow the only customer I dealt with tonight was a young man, about 12, gathering supplies for a science fair project display board.
He came in, found what he needed, had his items rung up, and whoops, it came to too much. So he went out to the car. He came back in, and put everything away.
:(
He left before I could do anything.
About fifteen minutes later he was back, this time he had more money. Apparently Mom went to the cash machine. This time I helped him with his shopping and steered him towards some products that were not as expensive but actually more appropriate. (I do know my glues.)
Science fairs suck. They suck the cash right out of you. This kid got the bare minimum, display board, markers and glue, and it came to nearly $15. This doesn't any include any supplies for his actual project!
He came in, found what he needed, had his items rung up, and whoops, it came to too much. So he went out to the car. He came back in, and put everything away.
:(
He left before I could do anything.
About fifteen minutes later he was back, this time he had more money. Apparently Mom went to the cash machine. This time I helped him with his shopping and steered him towards some products that were not as expensive but actually more appropriate. (I do know my glues.)
Science fairs suck. They suck the cash right out of you. This kid got the bare minimum, display board, markers and glue, and it came to nearly $15. This doesn't any include any supplies for his actual project!
Monday, January 5, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
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