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Due to various coworkers calling in sick, I found myself managing the closing shift. It's not a hard job, it's just invariably unpleasant. Every single customer with a problem, real or imagined, is immediately sent in my direction. Quite a few of these customers seem intent on destroying my faith in humanity.
I get a page to meet a customer up front. I let out a sigh of resignation. This will be the fourth problem customer I deal with in 30 minutes. What will the complaint be this time?
Store is too cold? (Maybe you should have worn a sweater.)
Store is too warm? (Maybe you should have left the jacket at home, seeing that it is 80 degrees outside.)
Don't like the '80s music playing over the music system? (I'm sorry if it reminds you of your ex-wife.)
Or perhaps it's that regular complainer here to complain again that the traffic signal at our intersection stays red much too long. He refuses to believe that the store has no control over the city's traffic signals.
Maybe it's that elderly fellow wanting to know why we had to get rid of his favorite restaurant, the Arbys that used to be in our parking lot.
fellow: "Why did you guys have to get rid of it?"
me: "We didn't sir. Arbys decided to close it. And the property owner decided the shopping center needed more parking space, so it was torn down."
fellow: "Well now I have to drive ten miles to get to Arbys! I hope you're happy!!"
me: ( Smiling, I spend the next ten seconds imagining his Arbys burning down, him standing in front of it, tears streaming down his face.)
I've been told that the Arbys in our shopping center was torn down in the early 2000s. Yes, over a decade ago. His most recent complaining about it was this past March.
Anyway, I answer the page and make my way up front to deal with a new complaint. I put on my well practiced fake smile. Suddenly, a large object, about 1 foot in diameter flys through the air and hits me in the chest. I'm taken aback, as it was totally unexpected. I pick it up. It's a package of tortillas. I notice a man walking quickly toward me. This is obviously the unhappy customer I been sent to meet.
man: "Your cashier sold me MOLDY tortillas!!"
me: "I'm terribly sorry sir. I'm certain it was inadvertant. I'll take care of it."
man: "I opened them up and they're all moldy! Then I had to drive all the way back here."
me: "Well, we'll exchange it for a good one. I'm sorry that this happened. It was an accident. We're not in the business of knowingly trying to sell bad product."
man: "This sucks! Why would she sell it to me if it were bad? I bet she did it on purpose!"
I'm not in the mood to listen anymore. I'm still trying to get past the idea that this guy just threw food at me. So I begin walking to the tortilla display, and tell him to choose a replacement. As he does so, I explain to him that the store does not handle the tortillas in any way. We don't order them. We don't put them on the shelf. We don't check on them. The display and product are handled entirely by the product vendors.
me: "I'll let the vendor know that you found one of their product moldy on the shelf. And I don't appreciate the statement that the clerk would sell it to you intentionally. I'm sure the clerk didn't notice the mold on it, just as you did not notice the mold on it when you selected it."
I started walking off, cause I could feel myself begin to lose it.
me: "And if there's a problem with that one, don't throw it at me, or I'll throw you out."
I went in back and took a break to let the anger fade away. I spent the next few minutes fantasizing about chucking all sorts of grocery items at this jerk.
Seriously, throwing food at the clerks. Who the hell does that?
I get a page to meet a customer up front. I let out a sigh of resignation. This will be the fourth problem customer I deal with in 30 minutes. What will the complaint be this time?
Store is too cold? (Maybe you should have worn a sweater.)
Store is too warm? (Maybe you should have left the jacket at home, seeing that it is 80 degrees outside.)
Don't like the '80s music playing over the music system? (I'm sorry if it reminds you of your ex-wife.)
Or perhaps it's that regular complainer here to complain again that the traffic signal at our intersection stays red much too long. He refuses to believe that the store has no control over the city's traffic signals.
Maybe it's that elderly fellow wanting to know why we had to get rid of his favorite restaurant, the Arbys that used to be in our parking lot.
fellow: "Why did you guys have to get rid of it?"
me: "We didn't sir. Arbys decided to close it. And the property owner decided the shopping center needed more parking space, so it was torn down."
fellow: "Well now I have to drive ten miles to get to Arbys! I hope you're happy!!"
me: ( Smiling, I spend the next ten seconds imagining his Arbys burning down, him standing in front of it, tears streaming down his face.)
I've been told that the Arbys in our shopping center was torn down in the early 2000s. Yes, over a decade ago. His most recent complaining about it was this past March.
Anyway, I answer the page and make my way up front to deal with a new complaint. I put on my well practiced fake smile. Suddenly, a large object, about 1 foot in diameter flys through the air and hits me in the chest. I'm taken aback, as it was totally unexpected. I pick it up. It's a package of tortillas. I notice a man walking quickly toward me. This is obviously the unhappy customer I been sent to meet.
man: "Your cashier sold me MOLDY tortillas!!"
me: "I'm terribly sorry sir. I'm certain it was inadvertant. I'll take care of it."
man: "I opened them up and they're all moldy! Then I had to drive all the way back here."
me: "Well, we'll exchange it for a good one. I'm sorry that this happened. It was an accident. We're not in the business of knowingly trying to sell bad product."
man: "This sucks! Why would she sell it to me if it were bad? I bet she did it on purpose!"
I'm not in the mood to listen anymore. I'm still trying to get past the idea that this guy just threw food at me. So I begin walking to the tortilla display, and tell him to choose a replacement. As he does so, I explain to him that the store does not handle the tortillas in any way. We don't order them. We don't put them on the shelf. We don't check on them. The display and product are handled entirely by the product vendors.
me: "I'll let the vendor know that you found one of their product moldy on the shelf. And I don't appreciate the statement that the clerk would sell it to you intentionally. I'm sure the clerk didn't notice the mold on it, just as you did not notice the mold on it when you selected it."
I started walking off, cause I could feel myself begin to lose it.
me: "And if there's a problem with that one, don't throw it at me, or I'll throw you out."
I went in back and took a break to let the anger fade away. I spent the next few minutes fantasizing about chucking all sorts of grocery items at this jerk.
Seriously, throwing food at the clerks. Who the hell does that?
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