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Hello! I used to be on CS several years ago, but so much has changed since then that I've decided to start over. I figured I'd start with a few short stories.
The Bag Lady
It was about a week before Christmas, and I was ringing out a lady. She seemed slightly manic - very talkative and distracting - and I accidentally added an extra zero when I punched the total into the card machine. However, she caught it (which is, after all, the point of requiring customer confirmation, anyway). I apologized profusely and corrected it.
However. She couldn't let it go. She wasn't mean about it, just would not shut up about it. For example, "Good thing I caught it. You almost charged me $100!" Me: "Yes, well. Sorry about that." "Oh, it's fine, but I'm so glad I caught it!"
Then, after she had paid, she said, "Since you almost overcharged me, can I have a free bag?"
I thought she meant another plastic bag. We don't charge for them, but not everyone knows that. "Of course," I said, and started pulling one off of the holder to give to her.
Before I could stop her, she snatched up one of the big gift bags we had for sale next to the register, and went out the door! I was stunned for a second, then ran out after her, catching up to her outside the doors.
Me: "Ma'am! You can't take that!"
Bag Lady: "But you said I could have it, because you almost overcharged me."
Me: "I thought you meant a plastic bag. I can't give away things for free!"
Bag Lady: "But you-"
Me: "I'm sorry, but you can't take it. Do you want a plastic bag? I can give you one of those."
Bag Lady: "No..."
I reached for the bag, and she let me take it. I thanked her and went back inside, still feeling a bit stunned. Even now I can't comprehend what made her think that was a reasonable thing to do. Too many prescription pills, maybe?
And the thing is, I still see her in the store occasionally. She's always just as friendly and manic, and has never mentioned the incident.
"Sir? Are you dead?"
There was a homeless gentleman who would come in every few weeks. I had been warned to keep an eye on him, because he had been caught shoplifting before. Not caught in the act, more like he was in aisles, and things disappeared directly after he had been there. That aside, he was also annoying, and once stole my water bottle, which, of course, made him my enemy for life.
Anyway, this fine fellow comes in and hangs around, clearly intoxicated. He lingers around the registers, not really replying when my cashier asks if he needs anything. He went off down the aisle when I began to approach.
He went right to the bathroom (I followed him, of course), and since the sound of the door opening is distinctive, I went off to do other things, listening for it so I could continue keeping an eye on him. After about ten minutes, I realized that I hadn't heard the door open. Worried that I missed it, I went back. I tried the door and found it was still locked. I asked him if he was okay, and got no reply, and nothing after I knocked, either.
At this point I figured that he'd been so drunk that he passed out in there, and I decided that it wasn't worth it to deal with him. So I called the police.
About ten minutes later, he finally emerged, and I immediately started following him. He asked me where the gloves were - which was something I'd told him literally a week ago - so I took him to them, and then just stood there watching him. At that point, the police officer arrived.
Apparently, the officer couldn't ask him to leave, until I told him that the guy was a shoplifter. The guy tried to drunkenly stare me down, and went, "Is that so?" in the most belligerent tone imaginable.
"Yes," I said, and then the guy got escorted out. And I haven't seen him since.
(Also, after he was kicked out my cashier told me that before I'd shown up and scared him into the washroom, he had gone over to the office door, where we keep all the computer equipment and money, and tried to open the door!)
Bloody Hell
This one is from tonight, actually. My second job is at another retail store, and tonight I was on fitting room duty. At about ten minutes to closing, a lady came in with thirteen items. Our limit is ten, so I let her take ten in. At about two minutes to closing, she came out with three items to trade for the final three. A few minutes after that, I made the closing announcement.
Soon it became clear that she was the only person left in the store. I could hear her rustling about, and the door of her stall opening so that she could stand in the hall and look at herself in the full-length mirror. Taking her sweet time. Since I'm a guy, I can't go into the lady's side while there's a customer present, and none of my female coworkers were available to tell her off by proxy. So I waited. Until nearly ten after. Then she emerged at last, not really meeting my eyes, gave me the clothes she didn't want, and rushed off.
All well and good. I had enough time to count them before she left, and nothing was missing. But then.
I found, in a pair of shorts, a significant amount of fresh blood on the inner crotch seam.
Luckily I'm not actually very squeamish about that sort of thing, so I hung it up with a note, but I think that I coworker I told about it may be scarred for life. I'm not sure what happened - did her Aunt Flo show up early? Was she fully aware of her period and just happened to have... slippage? And who the hell just hands that back to someone in that condition? It's a bloody bio-hazard (quite literally). I understand that she was probably embarrassed, but if I were in her position I would just buy the damned thing. Hell, I would have been satisfied, and completely understanding, if she'd mentioned it and claimed to have 'found it like that'.
Nice, lady.
There's a lot more, but I figure this is long enough for one post! Hello again! I'm glad to be back.
The Bag Lady
It was about a week before Christmas, and I was ringing out a lady. She seemed slightly manic - very talkative and distracting - and I accidentally added an extra zero when I punched the total into the card machine. However, she caught it (which is, after all, the point of requiring customer confirmation, anyway). I apologized profusely and corrected it.
However. She couldn't let it go. She wasn't mean about it, just would not shut up about it. For example, "Good thing I caught it. You almost charged me $100!" Me: "Yes, well. Sorry about that." "Oh, it's fine, but I'm so glad I caught it!"
Then, after she had paid, she said, "Since you almost overcharged me, can I have a free bag?"
I thought she meant another plastic bag. We don't charge for them, but not everyone knows that. "Of course," I said, and started pulling one off of the holder to give to her.
Before I could stop her, she snatched up one of the big gift bags we had for sale next to the register, and went out the door! I was stunned for a second, then ran out after her, catching up to her outside the doors.
Me: "Ma'am! You can't take that!"
Bag Lady: "But you said I could have it, because you almost overcharged me."
Me: "I thought you meant a plastic bag. I can't give away things for free!"
Bag Lady: "But you-"
Me: "I'm sorry, but you can't take it. Do you want a plastic bag? I can give you one of those."
Bag Lady: "No..."
I reached for the bag, and she let me take it. I thanked her and went back inside, still feeling a bit stunned. Even now I can't comprehend what made her think that was a reasonable thing to do. Too many prescription pills, maybe?
And the thing is, I still see her in the store occasionally. She's always just as friendly and manic, and has never mentioned the incident.
"Sir? Are you dead?"
There was a homeless gentleman who would come in every few weeks. I had been warned to keep an eye on him, because he had been caught shoplifting before. Not caught in the act, more like he was in aisles, and things disappeared directly after he had been there. That aside, he was also annoying, and once stole my water bottle, which, of course, made him my enemy for life.
Anyway, this fine fellow comes in and hangs around, clearly intoxicated. He lingers around the registers, not really replying when my cashier asks if he needs anything. He went off down the aisle when I began to approach.
He went right to the bathroom (I followed him, of course), and since the sound of the door opening is distinctive, I went off to do other things, listening for it so I could continue keeping an eye on him. After about ten minutes, I realized that I hadn't heard the door open. Worried that I missed it, I went back. I tried the door and found it was still locked. I asked him if he was okay, and got no reply, and nothing after I knocked, either.
At this point I figured that he'd been so drunk that he passed out in there, and I decided that it wasn't worth it to deal with him. So I called the police.
About ten minutes later, he finally emerged, and I immediately started following him. He asked me where the gloves were - which was something I'd told him literally a week ago - so I took him to them, and then just stood there watching him. At that point, the police officer arrived.
Apparently, the officer couldn't ask him to leave, until I told him that the guy was a shoplifter. The guy tried to drunkenly stare me down, and went, "Is that so?" in the most belligerent tone imaginable.
"Yes," I said, and then the guy got escorted out. And I haven't seen him since.
(Also, after he was kicked out my cashier told me that before I'd shown up and scared him into the washroom, he had gone over to the office door, where we keep all the computer equipment and money, and tried to open the door!)
Bloody Hell
This one is from tonight, actually. My second job is at another retail store, and tonight I was on fitting room duty. At about ten minutes to closing, a lady came in with thirteen items. Our limit is ten, so I let her take ten in. At about two minutes to closing, she came out with three items to trade for the final three. A few minutes after that, I made the closing announcement.
Soon it became clear that she was the only person left in the store. I could hear her rustling about, and the door of her stall opening so that she could stand in the hall and look at herself in the full-length mirror. Taking her sweet time. Since I'm a guy, I can't go into the lady's side while there's a customer present, and none of my female coworkers were available to tell her off by proxy. So I waited. Until nearly ten after. Then she emerged at last, not really meeting my eyes, gave me the clothes she didn't want, and rushed off.
All well and good. I had enough time to count them before she left, and nothing was missing. But then.
I found, in a pair of shorts, a significant amount of fresh blood on the inner crotch seam.
Luckily I'm not actually very squeamish about that sort of thing, so I hung it up with a note, but I think that I coworker I told about it may be scarred for life. I'm not sure what happened - did her Aunt Flo show up early? Was she fully aware of her period and just happened to have... slippage? And who the hell just hands that back to someone in that condition? It's a bloody bio-hazard (quite literally). I understand that she was probably embarrassed, but if I were in her position I would just buy the damned thing. Hell, I would have been satisfied, and completely understanding, if she'd mentioned it and claimed to have 'found it like that'.
Nice, lady.
There's a lot more, but I figure this is long enough for one post! Hello again! I'm glad to be back.
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