See Ya Later, Suckers

Ahh, I don't have to see any customers this weekend. Why?

Because I'm doing the Susan G. Komen 3 Day for the Cure walk.

Yep, that's 60 miles in 3 days that I'll be walking. 60 miles just to get away from customers.

But really, I owe a lot of it to the customers. It was their donations that got me there.

So thank you customers, I will be walking for a great cause this weekend. Which means you have to be easy on me when I come back. I'll have some fine lookin' feet, but they will be sore as hell.

Hurry the Hell Up!

This week has sucked. I've felt like a grumpy old man sitting on a park bench that tries tripping people with his cane.

It was a week filled with waiting. I am not a patient person. I am constantly giving people the finger while driving, as well as flicking off customers behind the register. I am out of control this week.

I decided to record how many minutes I actually stood there waiting for people to find their change, whether in their purse, pockets, shoes, or butt crack.

From Sunday to Wednesday (okay not actually a week, but who cares) I waited a total of 24 minutes. While that doesn't seem like a long time to you, it is. Trust me. I wanted to take one lady's purse and empty it all over her head so she'd have a better chance at finding her money.

I did everything I could to hurry these people along; drummed my fingers loudly on the counter, sighed obnoxiously, as well as stuck my hand under my shirt to itch my armpit, then take that hand out to grab their money. Nothing worked.

Except this:

I walked away from the register.

I learned this trick long ago and couldn't believe I forgot about it. While these idiots were busy searching for their pennies, I decided to walk away and pretend to go do something else.

That's when these people magically found what they were looking for. When they realized I wasn't going to stand there and wait and that they NOW had to wait for ME, well that was a different story then.

So if you are ever at the register and notice that the cashier has walked away, that means you're taking too long. If you're in my store and do this, I'll make sure you get back money that has boogers on it.

Things I Hate: Credit Card Readers

"Is it credit or debit?"

"Press the blue credit or debit key"

I say this about 75 times each day every time someone swipes their credit card. I hate it. It's gotten so bad that I've perfected my 'boring and uninterested' voice while saying it.

I would like to meet the idiot that branched off and made a different version of the credit card reader. Why? BECAUSE ALL CREDIT CARD READERS SHOULD BE THE SAME.

I'm so tired of people asking if they should press cancel for credit, or which button to press, etc. I know other stores have different ones, people. Do you think I enjoy repeating myself many times a day? I don't like standing there either while you try and figure the thing out.

It's simple. There are 2 buttons. One says "Credit" and one says "Debit". They are both blue.

So when I say, "Press the blue credit or debit key", I often stand there and watch as people try to find the blue button. Their hands will hover over the green key, or the white ones, but for some reason most people have trouble finding the blue ones. It's not that fucking difficult.

And if you are color-blind, that's fine too, because they are labeled. But if you are color-blind and illiterate, then you're out of luck. You might as well go to another store and bother them.

Sometimes I wish I could smash the machine to pieces right in front of a customer, while they're trying to find the 'credit' button. I'd be all, "Here, I'll press that for you", pull out a hammer and beat the thing.

The funniest thing about the credit card reader is that people get all defensive when they don't know how to use it. They blame it on us, saying we should have the same one as everyone else. My customers are the nicest people.

Oh, and I also got an awesome blog review at Ask and Ye Shall Receive. Check it out. These people are brutal towards others...I love it!

Taking Advantage of the Wrong People

We have a few people that live in a home up the street. These people have various illnesses and there are people in this home with them that are paid to take care of them.

These workers do not do their jobs correctly.

Charlie and Joy are two of the mentally disabled people that live in the home. Many times these two are walking around the city by themselves. They cross streets in the middle of the road...never near a crosswalk; they stand outside and beg people for money and they break and spill things when in any of the stores (not on purpose, of course).

Which makes me wonder, where the hell are the people that are supposed to be watching them?

One time a woman came in with Joy. Joy must have gotten her monthly check from the state because she had an envelope full of cash. Joy started to tell me she wanted a pack of cigarettes. The lady with Joy interrupted her to tell her WHICH kind of cigarettes Joy was supposed to buy.

Joy doesn't care what she smokes; she usually smokes the butts off the ground if she can find them. So this woman telling Joy to buy a premium brand of cigarette made me wonder what the hell this woman was doing.

So I asked this woman who she was, and she told me she was Joy's caretaker. I told her that Joy doesn't smoke these kinds of cigarettes and asked her who they were really going to. She got nasty with me and told me to mind my own business.

I ended up telling her I wasn't going to sell them to her and they left.

I've been at this store for over 15 years and this home has been around just as long. I've seen these 'caretakers' take advantage of these people and it pisses me off. How would they like it if someone took their monthly check or stole from one of their relatives?

I wish the state would do something about this...people have called before about it, but nothing has ever been done. Some of these workers need to go to jail.

Umm, Is That What I Think It Is?

I found a pube yesterday in my register. A PUBE.

I have no idea how long it was in there before I noticed it. It could have already been in there when I started my shift, or it could have been handed to me by a customer with their change.

I wanted to throw up when I noticed it, and the only reason I didn't is because my co-worker tried to convince me that it was someone's beard hair, and not a pube.

A stray beard hair is almost as disgusting.

But a pube is just fucking nasty. I swear it was moving, flaunting its curly pube body at me, begging to get wrapped around my finger like some kind of trophy.

It was located in the penny slot of my cash register drawer, so for the rest of the day customers got a deal as I just rounded their change up so I wouldn't have to stick my delicate fingers into the penny tray.

Thankfully I don't like the person on the next shift. I didn't tell her about the pube. I left it for her to discover. Let's just call it a little Christmas in July present.

Screw You

Shitty people always get by. Why are there so many evil people in this world?

Lady, Your Kid is an Asshole

We have a church next door that has a carnival every year. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but the carnival is 5 DAYS LONG.

Do you know what that means?

That means it's 5 days of shitty kids and teens being dropped off by their parents in the parking lot so the parents can go off and do whatever they want because hey, they get free babysitting all night.

I dread this carnival every year because pretty much 95% of the kids are mouthy. They used to come into our store in groups of ten or so and then stand around bullshitting and blocking the way for our real customers.

We decided to put a stop to that and only allow 2 in at a time.

Well this enrages those little shits and that's when the insults start flying.

Last year this teen and his teen girlfriend were in the store and I saw them pointing out all the security cameras and then looking at me. So I went over there and asked them if they needed anything and if not, to leave the store.

The boy teen got all high and mighty saying he was a paying customer and that he should be able to look however long he wanted. I pointed out that he wasn't looking at anything except the security cameras. We argued a bit back and forth, and I told him and his teen girlfriend to get out.

Later on that night, this teen brings his mother in to yell at me. He stood behind his mommy with a smirk on his face. She asked what was going on and was all ready to defend her shitty son. Her body language showed that she wanted to tear me a new one for 'disrespecting her son'.

I told her what the kid was doing, and how we get tons of kids in during this carnival and that I don't need this shit from some punk. I told her she's lucky I didn't call the cops on him for pointing out our security cameras because that usually means someone is casing the place getting ready to rob it.

At the end of it all, she apologized for her son's behavior. I was surprised, because normally parents will defend their shitty kid's actions to the end, even when they are so obviously wrong.

It was still her fault in the first place for dropping that shitty teen off at the carnival without any parental supervision.

PARENTS: WATCH YOUR KIDS AT CARNIVALS. DON'T LEAVE THEM FOR US TO BABYSIT.

It's Take A Penny, Leave A Penny

Yesterday this punk comes in wanting to buy cigarettes. After carding him, I ring up his smokes and the total comes to $4.25.

He pulls out a wad of bills and grabs $5 from it. He starts looking in our penny trays.

Punk (to me): You got a quarter?

Me: Uhh, no.

So he turns around to the customer behind him.

Punk: You got a quarter?

Unsuspecting customer: Uhh, no.

So he sighs really loud, and throws his $5 bill at me.

Really, asshole? You wanted someone to give you a quarter so you wouldn't get 75 cents back?

I'd understand if his total was $4.01 or something, but it wasn't. It was 25 cents. Is that how he got the wad of bills? From asking people for quarters everywhere he went?

So, this time I did two things. I gave him the crappiest money in the drawer because he pissed me off, and then when handing it back to him, I dropped it all on the counter "by accident", which caused it to roll away and fall on the floor.

I could only hope that by bending over to pick up his change, the hair on his balls got caught in his tighty whiteys and gave him a little pinch.

I'm seriously all for robots replacing the human race.

Don't Answer That!

I'm going to step out on the other side of the cash register for a moment and talk about annoying cashiers. Yes, it's rare, but there are some out there.

One thing I hate is when I'm waiting in line and HAVE been waiting in line for awhile, and the phone rings behind the register. Instead of taking care of the 5 customers in line, some cashiers will answer the phone. I fucking hate that.

If the phone rings while I'm ringing up customers, I will let it ring. Whoever is calling will call back if it's important enough. Usually it's just some asshole calling to get the winning lottery numbers because they are too lazy to check them online or call the hotline.

I get serious road rage when I'm waiting in line and watching a cashier take care of someone over the phone. If you HAVE to answer the phone, put them on hold then.

I think I'll carry a pair of scissors in my purse so that the next time this happens, I can walk right up to the register, past the lines of people waiting, and snip the telephone cord. Maybe then I'll get some good customer service. Either that or handcuffed.

Are All Short Men Cocky?

We have this regular customer that comes in that is evil.

All he buys every day are newspapers, yet always seems to stick around and give his opinions. This guy seems to have a problem with large women, and teenagers. Every time an overweight woman comes in, he stands there and makes a big production out of staring her up and down with a disgusted look on his face. I hate when he does this, because he makes it obvious. I've told him before to stop staring, but he doesn't listen. Because he's evil. And short.

Well today the tall customer came in and this evil customer started up his usual shit. He takes one look at the tall customer and starts talking to my coworker:

Evil customer: So, Stacy, need any lightbulbs changed?

I hear this and immediately get pissed, because I'm ringing up the tall customer and can hear this asshole pretty clearly.

As usual, my coworker is clueless and keeps asking him to repeat himself, which is just making me angrier.

I'm sure this tall customer can take care of himself, but he can also choose to go to another store because of crappy comments he hears in my store. I don't want that to happen, because he's one of the few that I like.

So, after the tall customer leaves, I start yelling at this guy. I told him that he needs to stop his shit and stop making comments to customers. He of course denies doing anything, yet has a stupid smile on his face the whole time.

He then asks me how I would like a smack in the face.

I told him go ahead, because then he'd go to jail and that's where he belongs. He probably needs a jail boyfriend to set him straight. Or to make him walk a little stiffer.

Sometimes I wish I could kick or punch customers and get away with it. Or go slash their tires. Or rip his newspaper in half right in front of him. Yeah, maybe I need anger management, but I can still dream, right?

Shitty Parents Are Among Us

There's this woman that comes in every day that I do not like. She buys lottery tickets every time she's in and usually spends about $30 each day on them.

Sometimes she brings her son in. He's a nice kid, about 12 years old.

One time they were in my store together, and she was buying her lottery tickets. He kept asking her if he could get some candy and she said no. He kept asking and asking, and you know what she did? She slapped him across the face in front of everybody to get him to shut up.

He didn't cry or anything, but was really embarrassed. Now, I understand not wanting to give your kids every single thing they ask for in the store, but that's no reason to hit them. She has no problem buying her lottery tickets every day, but couldn't spend $1 on her own son?

It makes me wonder how much more abuse she gives at home if she can slap him in front of everybody like nothing.

I didn't see her hit her kid, but I was there that day. It made me wonder what I would have done if I would have seen that happen. Would I have said something? Or not?

What would you do? If you saw a kid get slapped in the face for asking for candy, would you say something to the parent? Or would you stay out of it?

Stop Touching the Freaking Doughnuts!

I've talked about how important it is to get to the doughnuts early in the morning. I'm not just saying shit just to say it; I'm really concerned about your overall well-being.

Anyways, this customer comes in every morning and gets a dozen doughnuts for his church. Personally, I can't stand the guy because he's a liar and has tried to steal before.

But I hate when he comes in and gets doughnuts because he will pick the dozen out with his fingers and not use a napkin or tissue or anything.

He did it again the other day. I watched as he grabbed a few doughnuts, licked his fingers to get the powdery sugar stuff off, and then grabbed some more to put in the box. I kinda feel sorry for the people at his church that unknowingly eat these doughnuts this guy has just touched. For all we know he could have been picking his nose or scratching his balls before he walked in the store.

I want to say something to him, like "Grab a fucking paper tissue" or something, but I'm afraid of him. He's got those crazy eyes and I think he would curse me under his breath if I said anything to him.

So instead I just stand there and watch and think about all those poor praying people that eat these doughnuts he touches. Maybe I'll slip a secret note into the collection plate next time. I guess I'm glad I don't go to church because then I'd be eating a slimy doughnut.

Excuse Me Sir, You Dropped Your Drugs

I could seriously become a drug dealer with all the drugs we find around the store. I'd be a successful one, too.

If I go outside to clean up the parking lot, I can usually find quite a treasure. Besides all the condoms and puke laying around, sometimes I will find money. Most of the time though, I will find baggies with drugs in them.

I don't work in a bad or dangerous area; these drugs are mostly dropped from teenagers whose parents buy them brand-new expensive cars when they turn 16 and run around town thinking they can do whomever or whatever they want.

One time a young punk came in, and on his way out he dropped a bag of weed. I went and picked it up and threw it out. A few minutes later, the punk comes back in and you could tell he was searching the ground for something, but there was no way in hell he was going to ask us.

Now I'm no drug connoisseur, but I'm thinking I could get a pretty penny for some of this stuff. But what do I do with all of it? I either throw it out or flush it down the toilet. We don't need any whacked out druggies coming in here in the middle of the night shooting us for money to get their next fix.

Please, No More Garlic

I don't know what people eat or bathe in, but some of them reek when they come into the store.

There's this one guy that comes in and he always smells heavily of garlic. I hate the smell of garlic. It's almost as if he rubbed his body in garlic. Maybe he did, I don't know what kind of kinky stuff he's into at home.

The sad part is that this guy is really nice. But I barely get to talk to him because of the garlic smell. You would think with the amount of beer he drinks he would smell like a drunk, but no. Do they make a garlic-flavored beer?

When I quit smoking I gained my sense of smell back. Sometimes I'd like to smoke again, or at least stuff a cigarette up my nose so that I don't have to smell some people.

If I had to choose, I'd probably prefer the smell of a dead skunk that got shit and pissed on by a bear and puked on by a deer. I'll take anything but the smell of garlic.

My coworker used to come in to work smelling like it. I told her she couldn't eat that stuff anymore or I wouldn't be able to work with her. I can't concentrate on giving my best customer service to people if the smell of garlic is lingering in the air.

I'm going to invent a contraption for cashiers that will block any rancid smell that comes into the store. I'll make millions because there are a lot of smelly people in the world.

What Did You Just Say?

Worked night shift again last night. This time there was almost drama. Almost.

A guy came in with his daughter around midnight. I was ringing him up at the counter when his daughter (about 10 years old) wanted to pick out candy so she started looking at some.

This customer behind them then shouted out to the little girl 'You don't want candy, it's not good for you.'

This girl's father shot the guy a death look. So, the guy keeps talking, mostly to himself, about how candy isn't good for little kids.

I finish ringing up the father and his daughter and on the way out the father gives this customer the evil eye the whole time. I thought he was going to ask the guy to take it outside. I would have brought the popcorn.

But, alas, nothing happened. If it did though, I would have totally sided with the father. People open their big mouths way too often. Sometimes a punch in the throat is all it takes to make someone mind their own business.

Types of Customers: The Tapper

We have a guy that comes in with some sort of OCD. We call him the Tapper, because that's what he does while in the store; taps everything.

He'll walk in and do the same routine every day. Once he walks in the store, he'll go over to the 2 liters of pop and tap the rack. Then he'll walk over to our frozen food section and tap the coolers. Then he'll open one of the beer coolers, and tap each shelf from head to toe. He then grabs his beer and heads to the counter, but not before stopping to tap Spaghetti O cans, Chex Mix and other various items around the store.

Once he reaches the counter he'll set his stuff down and reach to the floor and tap his shoes. Then he'll grab a newspaper and tap that rack a few times. This man gets lots of exercise.

This goes on and on every single day. He's a nice enough guy, but he's also OCD when it comes to his car. When he pulls into our parking lot, he will back into a parking spot. Normally people will back in, adjust if they need to, and get out of the car.

Not the Tapper. He will go back and forth in his car until he gets into the parking spot just right. The shitty part about this is that he has hit many things with his car before; such as our ice cooler and also another employee's car.

Every time he hits something, we always hear it, but when we confront him about it he denies it. He's put some pretty big dents in our ice cooler.

It makes me wonder what he hits when he's at the grocery store or somewhere with a big parking lot. Is that where all the dents in our cars come from?

Umm, That Isn't Yours Yet

I'm pretty much suspicious of everyone and I'm a very observant person. It's a gift, and a curse.

One thing I can't stand is when a customer will be buying something for someone sitting in their car, and before they pay for the item they will take it outside to see if the person in the car wants it.

Just like the gas pump incident the other day, this kind of thing irritates us. Why? Because we think you are stealing something if you take it out of the store before paying for it.

It doesn't matter if the person is right outside the door. If you run outside with one of our items, we think you are stealing it.

Are you allowed to do that at a department store? Are you allowed to take a pair of pants outside to the parking lot to see if your mom approves of it? No.

Are you allowed to take a gun from the gun store outside before paying for it just to see if Junior likes it? No way.

Then why do people think it's okay to do this in my store? Just because you come back inside 20 seconds later, that still doesn't make it okay that I was about to run out from behind the counter and chase after you.

Now, the normal people with common sense will actually come up to me and ask if they can take the drink or snack outside really quick to see if the person in the car wants it. That's fine by me, as long as I know about it beforehand.

Or, you can make the lazy person in the car get their ass inside so this whole thing could be prevented in the first place.

Just remember: It isn't yours until you've paid for it.

It's Getting Hot in Here

Yesterday the air conditioning was out at the store. This wouldn't be so bad normally, but it's been 90°+ outside lately.

I like the heat, but not when I have to stand still in it. We had the front doors open and fans blowing, but it just wasn't cooling down enough.

And to make it worse, I had to hear about it from every customer that we didn't have air conditioning.

No shit, Sherlock.

I swear people like rubbing things in our faces. We had to hear about how we had no air, about how it sucked to be us, laughing that we were cheap and trying to save money, and the list goes on. I must have heard "Why is it so hot in here?!?" over 100 times today.

After awhile I started to zone out and I guess I was staring out the window, because a customer came up to me and asked if I was out of it. Once I came out of my heat-induced stupor, I told her that I was probably daydreaming that I was anywhere but here. I have no idea why I was staring out the window. I think I blacked out for a few minutes because even my brain was sweating.

Word of advice: If you notice that something is not normal in a store you come into every day, don't make it worse on the cashier and laugh at them for their current misfortune. I'm sure they notice the sweat stains under their armpits and the way their hair is frizzing up from the humidity. You don't need to point it out.

I remember every single one of you today that thought it was funny that we had no air. Just wait, I'll get you back. Next time I see you I'll drip sweat onto everything you buy.

How Tall Are You?

We have this customer that comes in who is about 7 feet tall. He's a really cool guy; always making jokes and generally seems happy. He also drives one of those tiny cars so it's kinda funny to see him all stuffed inside of it when he pulls up to the store.

He came in the other day while I was ringing up this obnoxious woman. As soon as she got one look at this tall customer, her eyes got wide and she started talking loud. REALLY loud.

She went on and on with things like "OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW TALL YOU ARE" "YOU ARE SO FUCKING TALL! JESUS CHRIST!" and on and on until her voice was hurting my ears.

You could tell that the guy gets this kind of reaction all the time, and that this woman's reaction was annoying him but he was too polite to say anything. I started feeling really bad for him because this bitch just wouldn't let up.

I, for once, didn't open my big mouth though, because this woman is one of those vicious lottery ladies that would probably slice my throat with the edge of her lottery ticket.

After she left though, I talked shit about her to the tall guy just to make him feel a little better. Yeah, I'm a wuss.

What I should have done was started telling her that she had the biggest ass I had ever seen and that I couldn't believe how big it was. But again, I was worried about death by lottery ticket, so I stayed quiet.

Another One Bites the Dust

People were vicious this weekend! Some of them must have gotten a firecracker shoved up their ass...or at least deserved to.

This punk comes in on Saturday wanting to buy cigarettes. He was wearing a wife beater shirt and a pair of swimming trunks.

I ask him for his ID, and he looks at me, holds his hands up and goes, "Uhh, where do you think I would put an ID? I don't have any pockets."

I have a few places he could shove his ID.

So I tell him that there might be room in his ass crack if he squeezes his cheeks together hard enough. Drug addicts and jailbirds have learned to use that convenient storage area very well.

He laughs and thinks I'm joking around and going to sell him cigarettes. Once he stops laughing and sees the look on my face, he turns around and walks away. At least this one didn't put up a fight.

Just because you come in wearing nothing that has pockets, that doesn't excuse you from having to present your ID. Nice try. Come up with something better next time.

When It's Your Time to Go, It's Your Time to Go

I make friends with a lot of the customers. Yes, there are some people I actually like out there. Sometimes a lot of time goes by where we don't see many of them. The only way I know what may have happened to some customers is to check the obituaries.

I look through the obituaries in the newspaper every time I work. About 5 times out of the year, I find a customer in there. Someone who I usually just saw the day before in my store.

It's kind of creepy seeing their picture in there when you had no idea anything was wrong. And usually nothing was wrong, most of the time they died suddenly.

I've seen a young guy in there that I was just hassling the other day about expired coupons...he committed suicide.

I've seen a guy that called me the wrong name for years...I'm just too polite to correct some people.

I've even seen a lady in there who's mother had died a month before.....she missed her mother so much her own health had started to deteriorate.

It's sad when customers pass away. Sometimes I show up at the funeral or wake and their family members are always surprised to see a person like me; someone who only saw them briefly every day, but otherwise knew nothing about them.

Giving Your Money Away

See? I told you this kind of stuff went on:

Another Dumbass in the News

We get so many people coming in our store that have no idea how much their lottery tickets are worth. I could probably make $50-$100 a day keeping everyone's winnings and telling them they lost.

Make sure you know how much your lottery ticket is worth before you hand it over to someone. That's like giving some stranger $10 and walking away from it. That $10 could buy smokes, condoms AND a bottle opener keychain.

Have a safe 4th of July. Try not to be an asshole and drive drunk. If I see any drunk driving shit going on while I'm working this weekend, I'll call the cops on you AND tell them you exposed yourself to me.

Have fun!

Hey Buddy, Where the Hell Are You Going?

So yesterday at work, of course some old guy didn't see the 'Please Pay First' sign and tried pumping gas. I saw him standing out there waiting for the pump to be turned on, so I figured that since I could see his license plate clearly I would turn the pump on for him.

Once he finishes pumping, the bell inside rang to let me know and I looked up to keep an eye on him, to make sure he was going to pay.

I watch as he gets into his car and starts his truck up. That's when I run outside.

I yell for him to stop, as he's turning the corner towards me. He stops and looks at me. I tell him that he still needs to pay and that we turned the pump on for him as a courtesy.

He looks at me and says 'I know. I was just pulling up to the parking spot here.'

So me, out of breath, gets this disgusted look on my face as I walk back inside.

Why?

BECAUSE I HATE WHEN PEOPLE FINISH PUMPING THEIR GAS, GET IN THEIR CAR, AND DRIVE 4 FEET TO PARK IN ONE OF THE PARKING SPOTS AT THE FRONT OF THE STORE.

I don't get why people do this. Why not just walk your ass through the SMALL parking lot instead of starting up your car and driving a couple of inches to the next spot.

So the douchebag comes in behind me, and starts laughing to the other cashier about how I thought he was going to drive off.

Of course I thought you were going to drive-off, you fuckface. You got in your car and started driving away.

A word of advice: If the cashier is nice enough to turn your pump on for you before you pay, don't get in your freaking car when you're done and drive up closer. We're going to think you're driving off without paying and you will give us a mini-heart attack.

Again, I hate when people do this. That shithead ruined my whole day, mainly because he laughed at me for getting worried he was going to drive off. I hope he finds a severed finger in his Wendy's chili.