View Full Version : The Bearded Lady

08-02-2009, 12:21 AM
I call her the Bearded Lady because she was a lady with a beard. This was not the first time I had encountered a lady with a beard - in fact, my own maternal grandmother had a wispy blond beard that started to grow after she reached 60, and I've seen many older women grow subtle white whiskers. However, this was quite a striking beard. This was practically a goatee. No...wait. No "practically" about it. This was a full, thick, black goatee with a thin dark mustache. She could grow a better goatee than I could. Plus, she was not of "whisker growing" age; she was probably about 40.

Needless to say, the goatee did not make her a sucky customer. Fact is, I probably wouldn't even remember her - the Grease Factory got its share of customers of interesting appearance, including a monk who was more or less the spitting image of Rasputin (from Russia, not Psychonauts), two Klingons in full battle armor, and a succession of charming, chatty, and fun drag queens. No, the Bearded Lady is remembered because of her method.

She was the absolute master of getting more food out of the place than she paid for. She knew all the tricks and gamed the system mercilessly. She'd eat half the fries, wait for the other half to get cold, and then return to the counter complaining that they were unsatisfactory and the portion was too small. She'd remove a patty from a double cheeseburger and complain that she'd gotten a single instead of a double. She'd take a piece of bacon off a breakfast sandwich, hide it on her tray, and complain that she'd only gotten one piece instead of two.

When we got wise to this rubbish at the counter, she started going through the drive through. We'd see her sitting in her car, quietly eating her burger, then come in with the half-empty bag and complain that she hadn't received the burger she just ate. I used to jam her fry cones so full of fries that they were practically falling on the floor, and watched her face fall when I made eye contact and she realized that she wasn't going to get seconds.

The management wasn't so much spineless about this behavior as apathetic; it meant nothing to them that this woman was nickel-and-diming the kitchen to death or verbally abusing the rank-and-file to do it. They didn't have to buy the food or serve it.

When my sister worked at a Grease Factory in another town, she had to deal with a woman who would buy the (then very expensive) salads, pick all the ham, cheese, and tomatoes out of them, put each in separate baggies, then complain that the salads were "just lettuce and what kind of operation are you running here, you should be ashamed of yourself for defrauding a little old lady on a fixed income who depends on every dime blah blah blah." She would do this two or three times a day - she was actually doing her grocery shopping this way. However, since that manager made something of a game out of telling small-time scammers off, this one blew up in her face quite beautifully when she tried it twice on the same night with the same staff and the manager told her that she knew EXACTLY what the SC had been doing and that she was now free to leave and never return. My sister said that you could see that the woman was going to try for huffy indignation before settling on silent shame and scurrying out the door.

Anyone else got someone with a System that comes in regularly? What did you do?

Love, Who?

Jay 2K Winger
08-02-2009, 07:08 PM
Closest thing I can think of at the wholesale club is the Mooch that used to come by. I've talked about him before, but I'm too lazy to dig through old threads to find it, so.

The Mooch never had a membership through the club. Never. He would come through the express register when there were other people in line, and then claim he "left his card at home" or some other excuse, and ask, "Can I just use yours?" If that was shot down (because it gets flagged in the system if an employee's card is scanned during their shift like that), the Mooch would turn to the next person in line and ask to use theirs. For a while, we allowed this just to keep the line moving.

Then Corporate put a stop to that kind of thing by saying this kind of thing was Not Acceptable. So I took great pleasure in telling the Mooch he couldn't use my card. No, you can't use their card either. No, I understand you're all right with the Mooch using your card, but it's not allowed. No, I won't make an exception. If you would like to make a purchase today, please stop by Member Services and either sign up for a trial membership-- we're doing a 60 Free Trial Membership drive right now, sir-- or get a one-day pass and pay 15% extra.

Why, Mooch, that's the door, where are you going? I thought you wanted this stuff? :)

08-03-2009, 04:14 AM
Something most people don't know is that all the major call centers keep lists of their "Chronics". Usually their system keeps names, phone numbers, email addresses, home addresses, and anything else you happen to divulge as searchable so that EVERY TIME you call we know EXACTLY who you are and what your deal is. To make it even more juicy, the big call centers sometimes share Chronic information, especially if it's someone trying to get more than a coupon, so the heads have data on the really big scammers.

No, you didn't. No, you can't. And yes, we're laughing at you RIGHT NOW. Silly-billy.

08-03-2009, 05:55 PM
Well, at Mr. Skeen's electronics store there's Frank.

A bit of background first: Frank is crazy. There is something....wrong... with Frank. He has some legitimate disease/disorder, but none of us know what that might be. We do know he's heavily medicated. Why do we know this? Because Frank is the grandfather of my very young nephew. Nephew cannot be left alone with Frank, because Frank is usually trailing an IV full of something around and is, in general, crazy. It doesn't stop him from going out in public though.

Anyway, Frank's usual MO is to come in and buy lots of things. LOTS of things. Like, $300 worth of things. Then, he'll wait til nearly the limit of his return period before coming back in with nearly ALL of the things he bought, wanting to return them. He always times it for when Mr. Skeen (the manager) is not there, and always targets the newest member of staff, at the busiest time of the day. The packages will be opened, the products obviously used, but he always has his receipt. So, poor new kid processes the returns.

Basically, Frank is borrowing a lot of merchandise.

Later, whoever sold Frank all that merch is startled to find that all the spiffs and bonuses attached to the sale have been removed from their paycheck and that their sales are down by a substantial margin.

The new store rule (implemented as soon as Mr. Skeen saw the pattern here) is that Frank is no longer allowed to return ANYTHING be buys, broken, defective, or not. The associates are to make him sign his receipt saying he knows he can't return anything, and the computer has a note attached to the receipt in the system, so that if he tries to return things elsewhere, the associates will see the giant warning. It's that, or GTFO, Frank.

I want to be there when Mr. Skeen gets to tell Frank the new rule. :devil:

08-03-2009, 06:22 PM
^If Frank is your nephews' grandfather is he your father?

08-03-2009, 07:42 PM
^If Frank is your nephews' grandfather is he your father?

No, he's the father of the babymama.

MY father is completely normal. Comparatively, anyway.

08-04-2009, 12:10 AM
No, he's the father of the babymama.

MY father is completely normal. Comparatively, anyway.

:lol: It was just the way you talked about him. I know some people who talk about their own parent (usually dad) as "oh yea him" type deal. I guess it usually goes that way anyways where it's one of the significant others' parent.

08-04-2009, 01:22 AM
There are so many ways to game the system; one recurring customer started to realize that her food would come out hotter if she altered it just a little - after all, we couldn't grab her burger from the bin if she special ordered it. No problem, of course, "have it your way", though we were usually pretty stringent on throwing out food when its eight minutes were up.

The trouble is, she...evolved. Soon she was ordering burgers without ketchup, fries without salt, Cola with no ice, and even fresh-chopped onions instead of reconstituted ones. Coffee would have to come from fresh-brewed pots. Again, okay - none of this is against policy - but it's going to take a while. The fries alone will be at least three minutes. The coffee isn't instant. The burger you just ordered is currently a hockey puck. And she's doing this during the luncheon rush, on a weekend, with thirty people behind her and a school bus pulling into the parking lot. She is going to have to step aside.

Not her, nope. This was a woman who felt that she deserved the undivided attention of the person on the register until the transaction was concluded. She also more or less expected the food to drop out of the ceiling and land in front of her the second she stopped talking. Before thirty seconds have ticked past, she's tapping her foot and rolling her eyes. After the first minute, she says the first of many "What's taking so long?" After an absolutely grueling five minutes, she finally gets her food and complains about it, for which the manager yells at me.

Special order? Fine. Special order, hold the patience? Get lost.

Love, Who?

08-05-2009, 03:08 AM
Maybe ze was a genderfucker.