Tales of Pathetica

[Zoom]

(A new multipart series exploring the goings-on, both bad and also bad, at Zoom's store. Sponsored by Mutual of OMG.)

Give Us This Day Our Daley Tax

Yes, "Son of Mayor" not only sounds like a horror movie, he is one. As are his infamous taxes on things, including bottled water.

Meanwhile, state programs such as "Legend of Link: The Plastic Card That Doesn't Scan Half the Time" proceed nicely and with only mild profanity usage.

But, combine the two and you get a juggernaut of immense power that can bureaucratize a situation in seconds!

Son of Mayor made up the tax, but Link didn't have to pay taxes as it was a state-run program. Until 2008 or so, when suddenly, a Mayoral directive forced the water to have a seperate and extra tax, with its own line on the receipt and everything.

But since the new tax is a special code, even though it automatically appears on the form, it doesn't automatically disappear when I press the Food Stamps button.

Programming error or red tape Sarlacc? Who can tell? The important thing is, customers both sucky and blowy must deal with my having to remove the tax by entering a code (which I forget half the time and have to look up).

Now the customers are realizing they can pay for non-food items in the same order, so long as they have two transactions.

One customer came in, buying food and non-food, and also one of the 24-pack water abominations. However, she only had a small amount left on the Link card. "OK," she said kindly, "empty the card and I'll pay the rest."

No problem! But wait a minute, which items did she pay for with the card? Did it include the water? It could go either way! If she paid for the water with cash, that should include the tax, but if not, then it shouldn't.

And as usual, I wasn't able to contact the desk because nobody was there. So I made a unanimous decision by myself and left the tax on there.

Later on, I got some flack from Desk, who was apparently there the whole time but turns invisible when you need him, like when a vampire looks in the Daily Mirror for all the latest Twilight gossip and doesn't see himself mentioned in it.

I just brushed Desk off, saying "She paid for some of her order with cash." He seemed to accept this.

Son of Mayor might have gotten away from the pitchfork-wielding Link mob this time, but he might want to pay attention to the silver bullet: they pay *NO* soda pop tax.


Gone, Gone, O Form of Desk...

So what do you do in emergencies? Well, with snakebites you go to the hospital; with robberies you call the cops; and so on.

But with anything, anything whatsoever at registers, you must CALL THE DESK. Out of stamps? Call the desk. Out of coins? Call the desk. Need something overridden (overrode?) or approved or filed, stamped, indexed, briefed or debriefed? Well, you could call the Prisoner, but he's one of those "advocates the overthrow of the system" kinda guys, which won't keep the greasy wheels moving.

There are several Mr. and Mrs. Desks who appear regularly like a comedy act, and stay at the desk for about as long as one (fifteen minutes). The moment that customers stop appearing there, they only see their studio audience has left, and head backstage to the little room behind the desk; whereas their television audience is still watching them, and will need their presence to tell us the jokes that are the store policies.

Yesterday I ran out of singles. You know, the dollar bills that say "Where's George?" on them even though George is right there on the bill!

And I had called three, maybe four times, to no avail. When I got someone, the comedian who answered was busy heading backstage, or busy not being there, or maybe doing some important non-phonework. Or maybe he was thinking, "He should know where George is by know, he can figure it out himself."

So what do I do? When I run out of coins, I give bills in change or simply don't bother with accepting coins; so long as the customer does not lose money, they have no opportunity to be SCs. The store loses money, true; but it's not as if anyone wants to wait for the desk to do something!

I used to do it "the other way" years ago, and the waiting was completely torturous. Then I tried sending the customers to the desk to get their change there. That really put me on the good side of Desky McMolasses.

But now I was out of green units! The usual procedure while waiting for Standy McBackroom was to give coins, but nowadays we have change dispenser machines, and this time, all of the coins were in them! Also I still hadn't gotten through to Clueless McNoanswerphone to actually tell him!

I had to actually tell customers I had no singles to give in change. I was forced to become the thing I despised most: a Sucky Checker. I also called the desk and left the phone ringing continuously so he would get annoyed enough to pick up the phone to shout into it.

I finally got my singles, but this was the last straw as far as I'm concerned. Cutting back on hours is one thing, but reducing functionality to zero is just bad for business. People will leave rather than deal with this kind of thing. I'm always getting complaints from customers asking when we're going to hire more people. They probably know someone who could use a job. Right now, those someones ought to have it.


Crisis on Infinite Coupons!

Our latest sale paper, which endeth tonight (Hooray!) was Chock Full O'Coupons. Every last one of them were nuts (they take after the customers, then?) with wording like "ITEM $2 EACH with coupon, must buy two."

The first day of the sale (last Thursday) we had wave after wave of demented avengers with tons of paper strips, most of which were still attached to the sales paper ("Hey checker! YOU remove these! I don't have time to do it!") and all of which were for Ragu sauce. The SCs were all Italian too; I thought they took pride in making their own sauce? Maybe our neighborhood sucks and they won't share when company comes over.

The second day of the sale, we were out of sale papers with coupons still on them. Well, almost; I still had mine, and nobody had swiped it. But even the register copies had been pillaged, and the replacement was a non-coupon sale paper with giant printing so as to take the same amount of paper.

Every day of this sale, so far as I can tell, more than 75% of the orders have involved these store coupons.

Yesterday, the penultimate day, we ran out of a couple sauces and an ice cream. Today, we also ran out of another ice cream, a couple of frozen entrees, a few shampoos and I don't remember what else. Customers were complaining about barren shelves.

Another thing they complained about was the fact that I wasn't going to accept two coupons for the same item. It clearly says "One coupon per transaction per customer". You buy two items, for which the store coupon will save you $1; or the manufacturer's coupon (also requiring two items) will save you $1.20, but IT doesn't expire tonight. Your choice.

I got berated at by BossholeTM over the phone for doing this. He was arguing that "Manufacturer, store, it's all the same", so I countered with "If it's the same, then why use two coupons? He was only buying two items!" Must have been a brain burp, for he responded with "Oh, I see what you mean," and hung up.

The worst is when the SC monkey just flings the sale paper poo and expects me to perform the ripoff of the coupons, since apparently I work for a company that's good at ripping things off. But hey, it's a living! Pardon my going off on a tear and accidentally defacing all of your other coupons you could have used next time.

At the bottom of the front page is a long strip that many SCs ripped and gave to me. It ISN'T a coupon. However, I am not upset at them for doing this, for I would have forgotten to check to see they got their advertised savings. (Buy two pizzas, get 3 12-packs of Coke at significantly reduced price. Must buy all five. Cannot buy non-Cokes instead.)

Last but not least, at the same time as all the other Petty Confetti (I used to have all his albums in the 80s), there is a coupon for One Free Pound* Of Grapes, Must Buy At Least Two Pounds And Present This Coupon Which Isn't In The Sale Paper And We Didn't Tell You About It!

*Yes, everyone else in the world, we still use the archaic term "Pound", which is ironic as it is the one thing we cannot do to customers.

So every time the customer buys grapes, I check to see it is at least two pounds, then ask if they have the coupon, then launch into the spiel about how all the signs that advertise a free pound mention "With Coupon And More Capitalized Words" and "I'll go and get you one at the desk."

Fortunately, I actually know the desk has the coupons. Nobody else-- baggers, other checkers, even Mr. Desk-- seem to know they are there. One customer even told me they were out, but when I went there they were plain as the nose on the back of my hand.


Brains Go Out the Door When Money Comes Innuendo

P. who works the desk AND registers, is the nicest person in the whole store and a very sympathetic being. She performs many tasks and gets along with everybody, so she's got an invincible position and will probably never get into trouble.

This time, P. was sent from the desk, to get my till's extra money in what we call a "91". She has to do this before the till earns too much money and the drawer locks up with what we call a "92". Usually not a problem, though with busy desks these days, they tend to miss the 91s more often even though we make sure to call and tell them (WHEN we can; sometimes we don't notice the 91 alert on the screen).

So she walks up and starts bagging my order (guess what else we don't have today), telling me "I need to pull your drawer, you got a 91."

Now, I have understood what she said, but as I am ringing up the customer a mile a minute (guess why I'm calling myself Zoom), and P. is having trouble coping with fast bagging, she got all muddled, and during the payment portion of the order, she blurts out:

"Remember, when you're done I need you to open your drawer so I can grab it!"

The funny thing here is how people can say things like that without noticing the double meaning implicit within the statement! I had to respond with "Do you realize the innuendo of what you just said?"

She couldn't stop laughing afterwards.

[Flying Grype]

[i]Yesterday I ran out of singles. You know, the dollar bills that say "Where's George?" on them even though George is right there on the bill!

Ooh. Do you actually find Where's George bills? I've never actually seen one. In Canada we play Where's Willy (scandalous!).

[Zoom]

Drawing a Blank

Today I accepted a rain check with no writing on it!

Turns out our store wasn't the worst one that ran out of Ragu. At our sister store downtown, they were so swamped that they couldn't fill out their rain checks fast enough! So they took to stamping them on the back with the store number.

Desk said it was ok, so long as it was just one of them, so...!


Crisis on Infinite Coupons, Part 2

Last week went so well, they are repeating their coupon birdcage lining efforts with new ones.

Like last week's, they still don't scan and have to be zapped with the hand scanner or manually entered.

Besides the two-coupons-per-item problem, we now have the can't-take-last-week's-coupons problem and the item-quantities-are-different-this-time problem.

The last of those causing a lot of head-scratching because it's ONE item per coupon instead of two, and the general confusion leaves customers buying two items anyway.


Old Checks Never Die...

Customer came in with her order and tried to pay by check. Nice design on the check; a very tight circular spiral that will hypnotize nobody, since they've already been bamboozled into buying things.

Check was rejected by reader.

Tried it again-- still rejected.

Checked the numbers-- it seems the overall effect of the check was that it was printed with very watery ink, or they need a new cartridge.

"How about the next one? Maybe that'll go through." (That's what SHE said! Oh, wait, there wasn't a double meaning to that. Well, she said it anyway.)

I'm always willing to play along with custy shenanigans. (I've always wondered what Darth Shenanigans would look like. Maybe his light sabre would be an electric monkey wrench, and he would wear a bowtie with frickin' laser beams...)

But this time, the replacement check had the same problem, and the same faded ink.

Our check acceptance is an arduous and exclusive process that is marred by the sheer level of red tape preventing anything happening, like a check being accepted.

For example, the numbers at the bottom of the check MUST be readable by our check reader. If it rejects it, even if WE can read the numbers, WE don't count as check acceptors.

Many other steps are taken-- phone number must be on check (but WE have to read that one); check data must be verified by a third party though internet; if they're a new check submitter they can't ask for cash back; if the third party asks for ID, we need to enter the number found on their driver's license or state ID.

Anyway, she had to pay with something else-- and did. She had every right to go all SC over our bureaucracy, but her real 100% beef is with the check printing company. The price of checks has gone up recently, and for that kind of price I expect them to use black ink.


Day of Disasters

Today has been one of those days where everything goes wrong...

Dropping bills or coupons or GROCERIES on the floor and not finding them; having to go get bags from the back while customers are waiting; cutting my finger and bleeding all over everything but not noticing until too late; getting blue stuff on my hands-- where'd that come from? "Oh," said the customer, "The Ty-D-Bol container was open and got all over everything." Link cards not scanning; coupons not scanning; customer not bringing store card; hand scanner not scanning-- what? Why don't these things recharge properly?

Customers walking through the closed lane behind me; someone didn't close it off with a shopping cart (or, if you're from the UK, a "wire trolley". I love that phrase.) necessitating leaving the order in progress to get a cart.

Running out of singles (see yesterday's post) AND fives (still doesn't bother me since the whole day is sucky, and once I was out of EVERYTHING, but that's a story for some other day).

Forgetting to print a duplicate receipt for a delivery order; at start of same order, customer had all her stuff she wanted to take with her, which we had to bag at the END of the order, but I had nowhere to put the items so they were put on top of the coupon dispenser and receipt printer! This is not quite preposterous enough, so after I piled all the bread on it, she gave me some eggs which I couldn't put on the bread so I had to stick them behind the printers where they would probably hatch if I forgot about them.

Still feeling sick after I came down with whatever the virus was, over a month after the fact! All that's left of the sickness is a sudden and violent urge to cough, followed by mucus drainage. Also the cough waits patiently for me to have a bunch of things to explain to a customer. "Well, the price on that item was GASP GAG HACK URGHLL BRAK GLAB!" "OK, I don't want it then."

Every time I tried to catch up after the latest clumsy foulup (remember that guy? Didn't he become Emperor of the Kree once?) two new ones would rear their ugly brain appendages.

So... I decided to slow down and scan everything at a snail's pace. All the customers started trying to compensate by pushing the items at me, pushing the coupons at me, trying to grab my attention before their order started... "I don't have my savings card." "Well, maybe you'll find it by the time I actually get to your order."

I might have caused a lot of impatience, wringing hands, biting thumbs, knuckle cracking and severe cases of complainy mouth, but at least I got the disasters to stop happening to ME!


Oh, the Scams You'll Do!

Young girl, maybe 15 or so (I didn't have to card her) came in with ONE item: a store gift card.

The other day, I rang up a Visa gift card that a customer tried to pay for by check, but couldn't! I was told it was "Cash Only" by the service desk. This is new! Also it doesn't say anywhere on the card's fine print, or on the display kiosk about "MUST PAY WITH CASH!!!"

Still, it was store policy. Probably we were ripped off enough that executives finally failed to wise up and, instead of ceasing to sell gift cards, put further limits on buying them.

Anyway, this time it was a STORE gift card, and I knew they couldn't be cash only. Then I heard her mumbling something. "Excuse me?" I said.

"I said I would like TWO HUNDRED!" she said.

What?!? They went up that high? Sure enough, the store gift card can be anything from $5 to $500. Though I've never, ever seen anyone buy more than $50 on one. I ring it up.

Her credit card was declined. Try again-- still declined.

"I'll be right back, I just gotta get another card that works." And she left.

Now, this has SCAM written all over it. Usually what happens is that before she gets in line, she has written down the gift card's numbers. After the card is activated but the transaction declined, she walks off saying she's going to get alternate payment. Then while we're waiting for her to come back (maybe even suspending the transaction pending her return), she goes to our sister store and uses a counterfeit gift card that she had the number imprinted on. Or maybe she has a way to just use the number without the card itself.

However, what actually happened was that I voided the gift card, removing all money from it, and didn't wait around for her "eventual" return, which didn't happen.

[Flying Grype]

Or maybe she has a way to just use the number without the card itself.

Big Blue Box With Yellow Tag electronics stores have gift cards that can be used online. I just bought a Wii with mine. The stores near me never had any stock, but there was online stock this week, so I snapped one up. All I had to do was enter the card number on the site when checking out my order.

[Zoom]

We Can Forget Your Schedule For You Wholesale

Mrs. Desk dropped the ball today and didn't notice it was time for me to leave.

At about five minutes after my shift ended, I called and asked, "By the way, what happened to my relief?"

She responded with, "Oh, you don't have one. The next person comes in in a half hour." And immediately followed that up with "Would you mind staying an extra half hour?"

Needless to say, this is stupid. It was 1995 or whenever that I first became a checker for this store, during which I was told very sternly, "NEVER EVER CLOSE THE REGISTER without either a relief or instructions to leave."

As a result, every time there was no relief, they would conveniently forget to tell us so we could work a little longer.

I don't mind working longer, especially as I would get paid more; but I DO mind if they're going to do it this way.

So I looked the phone square in the mouthpiece and said, "I can only stay if you let me start late tomorrow."

Really now, They're supposed to notice if someone's got a relief, and if not, tell us we don't have one and we should close.

This is the first time I've been late leaving work in over two years. The last time, it happened 2-3 times over six weeks, and THEY had the nerve to be angry at ME for their own stupidities, saying I should have pointed it out to them so I wouldn't earn extra money by leaving late!

Tough!


About Mrs. Desk

This member of the Desk Clan is insidious and bossy. When she was a simple bagger, then checker, she was fine and dandy, and would ask for and accept my advice if she needed it.

Suddenly she was initiated into the Masonic Order of the Desk, and barks orders at us like we mean nothing to her. I was told to do one thing once by BossholeTM, but then she told me to do something which went against what HE told me. I told her "I'm going to have to verify this is okay with BossholeTM". She got very mean and started yelling at me. "You do NOT call him, you just DO WHAT I SAY! And don't use TMs when talking to me!"

Worse, she should never have been given her position. She is a much less articulate person and speaks English with such a thick Polish accent that I cannot understand her about 33% of the time due to my slight nerve deafness. She's probably taking my "What?"s as a form of rebellion, when they aren't. Probably should be though, the way she treats me sometimes.

I don't mind if desk people have to be bossy on occasion to keep employees in line, but it would be much better if they would explain the purpose of the stupid things they do.

Despite this, she is still a nice person when not doing boss things. I wonder if she has a split personality. Dr. Checker and Mrs. Desk.


Hey Hey YKK, What Does That Bring You Today?

Today I ended up wearing the work pants with a slightly loose zipper. Usually I catch this and make sure I have some sort of paperclip or safety pin holding the zipper up... but today I forgot it was THIS pair.

When I forget the pair, the zipper only comes down while working when I have to bend over or twist a lot. Some days this doesn't happen much. This day I was dropping more things than usual on the floor, and I even got the zipper caught in the bag dispenser's metal arms.

So, after a good solid shift of XYZing off and on, I go to the breakroom to get my coat, and what should I hear playing over the radio but... Tom Petty's "Into the Great Wide Open".


No Joy in Rideville

One of our dopier baggers (we'll call him KC) was on carts much of the day. Suddenly there was a familiar face in my line, who asked my bagger A. who had just showed up, "Where's KC?"

At first I thought she only wanted to be bagged by him instead of A., but A. wasn't shooed away from the bagging. She replied, "I don't know, maybe he's upstairs. Why do you ask?"

I responded quickly with, "He's not upstairs, I just came back from break and he's not there. I think he was on carts."

A. said, "No, he got off carts a while ago. I think he must have gone home."

Customer said, "Well, I was supposed to give him a ride home."

WTF?? So he just took a bus or walked home instead of waiting a few minutes for his ride?

Turns out it was one of those well-timed coincidences-- he walked out through one door while customer walked in through the door on the other side of the store.


Dirtiness is Next to Bossholiness

Bosshole was upstairs when I was on my (VERY LATE) break there. He was directing a couple of people to "clean harder".

The breakroom was a bigger mess than usual. A table was missing because they were using it for a meeting earlier in a work office. A Coke machine had been pulled away from the wall. The place reeked of something terrible that I couldn't identify.

"So," Bosshole continued (I'm not ashamed to overhear people's conversations, because they're all riff-raff anyway), "you're saying you've cleaned EVERYTHING?"

"Yes, we cleaned as hard as we could with this stuff." was the response from somebody or other (probably worked in Grocery and wasn't in cleaning staff).

"Well, it's just as dirty as before. Clean it again. And use something with alcohol this time, and scrub harder. I mean, look at these lockers, they still look filthy."

I could only imagine how bad the place would smell after they got through with attempting to clean it the SECOND time with equal failure, so I made sure to hold my nose after work ended (LATE).


The Spectacles Saga

I wear glasses. Well... I used to wear them.

Then I started getting these ridiculous headaches. Normally you might think, "It's the job that is giving you these brain pounders with cheese," and you would be right, but one day I forgot to bring my glasses and the headache went away.

In fact, I soon became adept enough at my job that I didn't need to bring my glasses, unless I needed to look something up in a sale paper's fine print, or if I needed to look down the aisle to see if something is listed as being in it (i.e. brain bleach, etc.) or a couple other things.

I had a method of bringing my glasses and putting them next to the receipt printer, one ear perpendicular for balance, ready to slip on at a second's notice.

Then came the Replacement Phones.

The old phones were terrible, so I couldn't complain when the new ones were installed; but the new ones had a habit of falling off the cradle right onto my glasses, threatening to scratch them all up.

So I put my personal sale paper on top of the glasses to protect them.

Everything was hunky dory... until Mrs. D. Desk came along to her position. (Different Mrs. Desk from an earlier time.)

She would notice the coupon printer was off to the side, and push it to the left, smashing right into the glasses because she didn't see the glasses under my sale paper.

See, the "second's notice" is important to me. If I put it in a glasses case, I have to lug the glasses case around to and from the breakroom (pockets are full!). Also, upon taking out the glasses, I have to clean them! Something I need not do if they're already out.

So, my war versus D. proceeded apace. "Please don't smash my glasses" sounds like something Archimedes said before the Roman soldier ran him through with a sword, but there are worse ways to go out. D. seemed to be the only one in the Desk Clan who would scratch or smash into them.

Then one day, rather more recently, it all fell apart. Bosshole announced the remodeling of the store, which entailed some plastic cardholders to be put next to the printer, making no room for the glasses. Also, I cut my arm pretty fierce on the plastic when grabbing for some groceries to ring up once.

So I ripped out the plastic holders, which were in the way. I got in serious trouble. "We were told by corporate to put them there, and you were NOT ALLOWED to remove them and throw them out. You damaged store property." said Bosshole and his boss, whom I don't have a name for yet.

Nobody told me I couldn't get them out of the way, and I in NO WAY damaged store property. I put the plastic holders to the side, NOT in the garbage. The union agreed with me so I wasn't fired.

Meanwhile, now I am the center of attention as the "main troublemaker" of the store, and Bosshole decides to have a long talk with me. I explain my position. I also explain to him my need to put glasses somewhere other than my face, and to not have my arm cut all the time while reaching for groceries.

Finally, he agrees to allow a place for my glasses-- in the desk drawer under the coupons! At first I balk at this, but it quickly becomes a more sensible option.

Then came the Overcrowding.

That drawer also held a sale paper, and six paper rolls-- three for the receipt printer and three for the coupon printer. Everything fit. BUT, one day there was a little black plastic tray in there that held some pens and a couple of pads of delivery slips.

The tray crowded me out again. I put the tray in the overstock bin, but Bosshole started complaining to me. I shot back with, "You said I could use that area for my glasses. The tray is in the way." He then said, "Well, keep the tray in there, but take out some of the rolls then."

So, every day when I start my shift, I dutifully remove 3 coupon rolls and toss them in the overstock bin, which baffles about everybody else. And I'm licensed to do it!

The latest developing wrinkles in our little saga are the insistent memos that say "Employees are not to have any personal items in the drawer while on shift." Well, if they ever tell me I can't put my glasses in the drawer, they're not going to have a very cooperative Zoom. Anyway, everyone else ignores these memos, so we'll see who cracks first.

[tollbaby]

As for the glasses, you could just do what most people do and put them on a chain around your neck....

[Rapscallion]

Despite this, she is still a nice person when not doing boss things. I wonder if she has a split personality. Dr. Checker and Mrs. Desk.

Insecurity. Fear of being disobeyed.

Best guess I have.

Rapscallion

[Zoom]

Actually the chain is a good idea. Maybe if I could get one with a tag inscribed with something anti-corporate... meanwhile, back to surreality.


The Hole Story

On the way to work (I walk, which saves bus fare and gasoline/petrol (people of different nations take your pick)), in the alley near the store, is a large bottomless hole that I nearly stumbled into two weeks ago.

Well, probably not bottomless, but it seems to go down at least 50 feet into the sewers. The point is that anyone could put a foot in it and break a leg falling halfway in, and I don't know how loose the alley cement around it is, meaning it could give way and the victim could lose his/her life or at least have turned up noses at the prognosis.

This is semi-job-related because, naturally being THE alley near the store, it gets a lot of traffic-- cars looking for shortcuts, trucks looking to deliver food to the nearby restaurant, people on foot hoping to get to work on time.

Now, you may say, "Zoom, why go to all the trouble to tell US about this? Why not complain to the appropriate city authorities, who will then send a crew out and fix this?"

And I might respond with, "Enough people have already complained, and a crew has already been sent out."

Not only that, I get to tell you the fantastic results!

Ready?

No fewer than THREE traffic cones were placed strategically around the hole!

Really; people's LIVES were potentially in danger, so what they should have done was put up one of those metal panels like they did last time about 4-5 years ago (when, I might add, it wasn't even a hole but just some construction!).

Obviously, some impatient drivers were getting out and moving the cones, totally oblivious to the dangerous gap, so after more local complaints, the crew came back to set things right.

Ready?

They put a FOURTH cone upside down INTO the hole!

Great! Now they're making it harder to see, someone's going to step on the cone, dislodge it, and probably fall into the hole.

This week, however, has seen a huge snowfall. Now NOBODY can see the hole or the cone plugging it. And cars have been running over the upright cones.

Traffic has always been a bad thing around the store. Usually by now I expected to have a long story about the snow piles with carts buried in them, but this seems to have been avoided this year somehow.

But this year looks promising.


Dirtiness, Part 2

Looks like the BossholeTM has a reason to act like he has a wild hair up his nose.

Apparently there's some sort of cleaning initiative with no purpose or reason save to be a tremendous bother on everyone below corporate level. They are expecting everyone to take responsibility for keeping things clean. I wonder if they'll write us up if we don't?

Guys, it's a STORE. We serve customers. Sometimes it gets messy! And we have a night crew who's supposed to do the cleaning anyway.

Yesterday the breakroom was even worse than in Part 1. Now the lockers are all over the place. I wish they'd said they were going to move them; I just bought a 24-pack of Dr. Pepper the other day and stuck it in my locker, now it's probably all shaken up.


Schedule, Part 2

J. Desk. There's just something wrong with this man.

Yesterday he asked me if I could stay late.

This was with a store that was nearly empty because of the humongous piles of white cloud dandruff on the ground!

But then again, this was also with a store that didn't have any checker scheduled until 10pm.

He didn't tell me this, of course; he simply said "This is an emergency!"

I said, "Sorry, no."

Then came the most offensive thing I have ever heard him say up until today:

"Why not?"

I was stunned! Here was a question the likes of which should have been uttered by the Bosshole himself!

I could only reply that I had to work the next day.

Immediately he countered with "Well, so do I, and I also have classes and a second job after that."

As if the one who has the worse story gets to leave on time!

I had to fight back with "Well, then you know what it's like!"

Today it was the same thing, only amplified.

Mr. Desk had some choice words of complaint for my slow-burning self once or twice during the day. Both were very teeny tiny points of contention that he felt he had to point out. After I countered with my POV and my take on the matter, he became enraged and was virtually yelling at me. I remained calm though.

Then came the end. I called the desk, not caring who was answering. "I have a 91 (drawer getting full of money, please take it), unless I don't have a relief (as I leave in a few minutes)."

J. was the one who had answered, but he said he'd call back.

Now, J. is also a nice guy when not talking about work-related things. But whereas Mrs. Desk has problems with articulation, J.'s situation is that he won't explain something through-- preferring to bully through giving orders, i.e. "You MUST do this because I TOLD you to, not because it makes sense."

Exactly the sort of thing I will fight to the death against.

He calls back with, "No, you don't have a relief." Now, yesterday I worked until 9pm, and nobody ever starts at 9pm, so it made sense to not have one. But today I get off at 7pm, and someone could have been scheduled for 4 or 5 hours.

Since it's a bit too early, I don't make any motions to close, but then J. leaves the desk and is doing cleaning by one register. He speaks to another Mrs. Desk, a nice one. "Looks like Zoom doesn't have a relief but nobody's available, should he close?"

Damn right I'm gonna close! But... he didn't actually give me permission to do so... and like yesterday, he might come up with someone at the last minute to relieve me... I wait him out.

At 7:55 he calls me and says, "Can you stay another half-hour?"

NOT AGAIN!!!

"Nope."

"Why not?"

This time I remain silent. I am going to glare at him if he goes to the register.

Eventually, at 7:01 I leave a long-lined register to scan the store card for another SC who forgot the card because he knew I could just go scan one (but never admits this, because then I won't). Mrs. Nice Desk is at self-checkout and gives me the card.

Me: "Something's wrong with J." *BEEP*
Nice: "You realize he said you were supposed to close, right?"
Me: "What?!?"

Of course he DIDN'T say anything about that. I had like 6 people still in line, each with plenty o'pigout parcels. It took me nearly 10 agonizing minutes to ring them all up. At the end, J. is there (finally!) to get the 91.

Then he starts berating me with "You need to keep the drawer cleaner than this," as he holds up various slips of paper and currency as though I was supposed to wash them with soap or something.

I am so angry by this point, that I walk away silently and clock out with my teeth clenched. I go upstairs to collect my accumulery and winter wear.

By the time I get back to the desk, I was going to really let J. have it with some evil tirade like "It is NONE of your business what I do when off the clock! I have every right to not stay here in this hellhole any longer than physically scheduled! And drawers are for storing FILTHY MONEY in! By definition, they are not going to be kept very clean!"

Incredibly, he was actually helping a handicapped customer at that moment so I chose to leave and let leave.


Putting the "Bee" in Bosshole

Oh, yes. Now Bosshole has taken to buzzing around my register in an increasing act of cleanliness compliance, or whatever it is.

Whenever a desk person or higher is seen near my register, I get the strange feeling they're trying to surreptitiously spy on me and later ambush me with "Why didn't you do this? Why didn't you do that?"

This has actually been done before to me, so I know it's not mere paranoia.

Any time someone says I did something wrong, I can usually dispute it, because it's most often the SC's word against mine, and they will distort the truth to further their own arguments.

But when management complains of wrongdoing, I get livid and pale.

I'm not the best employee. I will follow procedures where possible; but when it's NOT possible, and the management is busy and cannot be contacted, decisions must be made. Most of the time it is the RIGHT decision.

But put the knowledge of these decisions in the hands (not brains) of management, and it's "Ima write you up so I look good and not make corporate policy look bad."

And the current monarch in the Kingdom of Bossholia rubs everybody the wrong way. I can't even focus or concentrate properly when he's buzzing around with his jerkaholic, calisthenic clean routine.


An Apology

I had a number of other anecdotes (some of which were actually funny) that would have gone here, but for the TOTAL BRAIN FRITZ caused by how angry I got. Sorry about that. I'll remember them eventually.

[Zoom]

Hole, Part 2

We now return you to our regularly-scheduled future disaster, already in progress.

Now the hole's upright cones have ALL been stolen or relocated, leaving only the one sticking in the hole itself. However, the snow level has lowered slightly.

All that remains now is for some car's left front tire* to become the round peg in the square hole. I await the results.

And you just know the cones were removed by impatient drivers having trouble getting through that alley. They should consider themselves lucky that the entire thing doesn't become a massive sinkhole and take their cars with it!

*For our UK readers, "tyre".


The Walls Are Green On The Other Side With The Sound Of Envy

Do we take coupons? Yes we do. Coupons from other stores? Yes sir. Coupons from Walgreens? Uh huh.

Coupons from Walgreens that save an entire $15 off anything? Um...

I called a representative of the Desk Consortium (motto: "DC - It's not just for comics and governments anymore"). Response was, "Whaddaya bothering me for? It's a manufacturer's coupon, so the name of the store on it isn't important."

Me: "Yeah but it's FIFTEEN DOLLARS! That's thrice the size of the $5 coupons we have to call the desk for."

Desk was really apathetic and hung up. So I took the coupon. Wasn't as if the customer was getting anything free.

Next customer had the exact same coupon. Now there is obviously something wrong. Someone must be redistributing the coupons to random people and telling them "You can use it at this store instead if you want."

I figure maybe Walgreens may even be behind it-- some sort of viral marketing? Or perhaps a plan to destroy other stores by getting them to take coupons that they won't honor somehow?

Bleah, thirty grotzits down the drain.

Of course, we print $15 coupons as well and give them out. But the limitations on them are ridiculous-- "Must buy $160 of groceries, must buy from February 13th to February 17th, must have a fastball of 60 MPH*, must have the entire Civil War Chess Set, including the Klingons made of pewter."

*For UK readers, mastering a googly or doosra is an acceptable substitute.


Double Whammy

A double whammy, in retail terms, is when you've been hard done by twice in quick succession in your schedule in such a way that it's nearly impossible to get out of it, short of death, pandemic or the kind of stabbity insanity that gets you a free trip to Pharmaceutical Compliance.

Today's double whammy (brought to you by Rubik's Capitulation, the only 1x1x1 cube in town) is the proverbial working late Tuesday (thus missing my WoW raid of the week), before having to get up at the crack of not yet dawn to start early on Wednesday... PLUS having a big long "shift" (The F is silent*) which would wear out wild dogs with pitchforks and torches.

So, what to do? I usually come into work, say "To hell with having not gotten enough sleep", and drag my arms a lot when scanning. The retail term for that is "Serving the customers the best one can under the circumstances."

I'm also considering attempting WoW raiding before I go to Tuesday work, but that would be cutting it mighty close. This week was Malygos (WTF were they thinking?) and was uncompletable without several tries. At this rate, it'll be Onyxia or the new VoA boss.

*For UK readers, the F is still silent.

[Zoom]

Something To Dispense With
-or-
Rubbing Pepper Into The Wounds

As the cleaning has reared its ugly head this past week, many things have changed.

Today I see they have installed a new 7up machine in the breakroom.

It has-- wait for it-- Dr. Pepper!

Coincidentally, it has been about 10 years since the Dr. Pepper machine broke down and they never bothered to replace it with a machine that actually dispenses Dr. Pepper.

Which means that, because I have an aversion to using the smelly fridge (which would retain the smell even though they probably cleaned it this week), I have had to buy Dr. Pepper to store in my locker, and drink it-- warm-- during my break. FOR TEN YEARS.

Worse, the new machine only has bottles, which I won't buy as they're $1.00 (instead of 25 cents a can). Also, when the machine runs out (and you know it will), I would have to make some other choice or just have water.

The thing is, I have called the number on these machines in the past. I have talked extensively with people from the company, and let them know that I would prefer a) cans of b) Dr. Pepper. Nothing they can do but pass it on.

Anyway, I'm saving money this way. I know I'd save more money if I just had water, but meh. Just meh.


Wisdom For The Ages

If you try to check like the Flash, you will be made to work all the time like the Flash.


Render Unto Caesar

So a guy comes into my line with a whole bunch of stuff. He hands me a note.

You may know the kind of note I'm talking about:

"Dear Sir,

"This is to inform you that such and such is a tax-exempt organization, and is exempt from paying any sales taxes, and by that I REALLY MEAN IT, and I DOUBLE-DARE YOU to charge us tax on anything, because we have this IMPORTANT PIECE OF PAPER, and we could probably give you paper cuts if you're not careful, so WATCH IT!

(signed) Son of Mayor"

Ah yes, the old aggressive bit o'pulp routine. Which is outdated now, for we only rein in the tax horses if you have a special tax-free card in the holster. This card is only issued to you by mail after you apply at the desk for it.

I was going to mouth off at the man, who should have known better, but then I noticed it said on the notice:

"CATHOLIC CHURCH DIOCESE"

Ooh, they brought out the big guns. I seem to remember calling the Desk with an uncarded yet obviously tax-free big one before, and being allowed to approve it anyway. So, time to press the magic buttons.

Me: "Tax-free, no card, but Catholic."
Mrs. Desk (yes, that one): "Nope, must have card. Tell him no. He has to get the card from them."
Me: "OK." (to man) "Well, I thought they were gonna approve it, but they said you need the card."

Now, at this point the man (plus the woman who was with him... strange there were no nuns or collared guys involved here... there usually are) has a possibility of becoming an SC.

Whenever there is a bureaucratic mess, and the only way out is for me to deny them something, I consider it my duty to alter what I say to something that keeps the customer from becoming an SC. This is a fine example of this, even though there was no way for me to know how badly he would have behaved if I just told him "no" normally.

Me: "They won't allow it in the order, but if you go to the desk you'll get it sorted out."
Man: "That's all right. I'll do that."

Now, the desk did not say anything about sending them there. Moreover, sending them there will just cause Mrs. Desk to repeat what she told me, that he cannot have it tax-free without the card, and also to say that he cannot have that order made tax-free because it was already keyed out.

But eh, it's Mrs. Desk's problem now, and if he becomes an SC, he'll get the mess of his spittle all over her instead of me. I get to go home and play WoW where I can get my own spittle.

A side note here: I do not show Catholicism or any particular religious group any favoritism or negativism at work. This situation was purely a matter of facilitating nontaxation for a large organization which happened to be religious. So there.


Maybe I Red It Wrong

Checking my brains out as usual (it's an expression; I don't actually check my brains out, I read them at the library. Unfortunately I'm at the store during this anecdote).

Every few minutes a CW in front of me asks me some question about one thing or another. She is acting like it's her first day at work. I seem to remember her being there nearly a year, but never mind.

In the midst of a particularly grueling order (which doesn't exactly narrow it down, does it?), this CW suddenly pipes up with, "How do we take these?" and holds up a WIC form.

The thing is: it's not blue. It's RED.

Me: "Um, we don't. You can only redeem those at the WIC store."

Seriously? WTF?!? Now the WIC people are not telling customers about the RED forms? In addition to not telling them about the list, the exactitude of following the letter of the documents, and to stay within the dates on them.

Meanwhile I still don't know the location of any WIC store. CW, in disbelief, calls BossholeTM over, who says the same thing but instead of "WIC Store" says "government building".

It's all starting to sound more ominous...


Who Watches The Breakmen?

Heard over the intercom today:

"Zoom, check your time."

This is a very embarrassing thing to have heard over the intercom, especially if your name is Zoom and you are getting back from break.

And of course it was Mrs. Desk who tried to spoil the party atmosphere by saying this.

What she means, of course, is that my break supposedly ended more than 15 minutes ago, and I should have been back by then.

But she misses the point.

I have a DIGITAL WATCH. With numbers on it and everything. When I get upstairs, the 15 minutes start. When I am done with my Dr. Pepper and either my Sudoku puzzle or perusing my notebook, ten minutes have elapsed. It is never any other way. Then I spend less than five minutes in the bathroom, after which I'm back to work.

Mrs. Desk? Mrs. Desk does not have a digital watch. Mrs. Desk has a MOUTH. With this mouth she can speak in a commanding tone over the intercom.

However, with this mouth she cannot tell time.

I ignore her and get back to work. Nearly everyone I pass on the way back from the breakroom says "Oh Zoom, Mrs. Desk was calling you."

Yes. Yes I know.

I also suspect she might be counting the time spent actually going upstairs/downstairs to/from the breakroom as part of the break.

Let her. She would never dare to write up a man with a DIGITAL WATCH.

[r2cagle]

There is so much to reply to that my brain shorted out...

Dr Pepper is one of the few sodas that taste just as good warm as it does cold. That's all I can say without taking an aspirin.

[Zoom]

Dirtiness, Part 3

AT LAST the solution to all the cleaning up and messing about has been revealed! Hallelujah! Let the trumpets sound!

The memo spelled it all out, in twenty agonizing pages. To be made to look carefully through them while on shift and sign off on having read them and understanding them fully, is both glorious (YAY! I don't have to do work for ten minutes!) and atrocious (They expect me to memorize all this?)

Basically, corporate found out that the stores are forever running out of things and issuing too many rainchecks. So, they decided there is only ONE way to make it so they don't have that much of a problem.

Can you guess what it is?

Yes! They have decided some items are redundant, and will be discontinuing many things that could be substituted with other brands or different product sizes!

Remember the scene in "THX-1138" where the mirror tells the guy, "Consumption is being standardized" so he can't have what he wants? This is it!

The sucky just went on and on, for twenty pages. A few more highlights from the Memo O'Omen:

*Many of the open aisle areas are being replaced with big ugly boring regular shelving. This is a change from when we had our remodeling a couple years ago and they specifically said we should get away from that.

*Not all stores will carry exactly the same things. So, it is likely if my store is not carrying something any more, the customer will be directed to go to a store on the south side or maybe even the suburbs.

*Where possible, the Desk should *NOT* issue a raincheck for these discontinued items, and should first offer the replacement item of another brand/size.

*If the suggestion is no good for the customer, THEN issue the raincheck, but tell them we will not be restocking the store with this item and they must buy it elsewhere.

*Stores will still continue to sell "ethnic" and "locally preferred" stuff, i.e. what sells well. They will also keep the produce fully stocked as always (which means I still have to remember the PLUs for stupid fruit nobody buys).

*Most ominously was the humongous way of dealing with customers by giving them a bunch of corporate BS. "We are doing this to serve you better" (by taking away what you want to buy?).

*Also, "Employees must not tell customers that this is Corporate's 'fault'." Obviously they don't want to create a negative attitude about something they implemented, but it is negative nonetheless, because it impacts so many people.

Guess what? It IS Corporate's fault. People have already complained because of product no longer carried.

Meanwhile, product is strewn all over the middle of the back aisles in hastily-constructed shelving while the remaining supply is cleared out. Entire new aisles of empty shelves await the customers. And all that cleaning seems so... dirty.


Getting A Rice Out Of Me

Yesterday I was working late (and was pissed off at nearly all my CWs, mainly because nothing can be done about my having to work early the next day and nobody was being helpful or sympathetic) and what should I notice but two things.

One, I was suddenly the only checker apart from the self-checkout.

Two, the only customer in line had a few WICs.

This is all right, since I'm relatively quick with WICs and can usually get them rolling right away. But something like 60% of the time the customer gets the order wrong.

The current suckiness was in the 16 oz. rice/tortilla/oatmeal category. It doesn't say "16 oz. or less*", so it MUST be 16 oz. or else you can't have it.

However, try explaining this to the customer! "OK," she says, and just stands there.

OK what? OK, you're going to not get any rice? OK, and here's a million dollars? I somehow doubt you have it, being you are on WICs.

Having to tell her the same thing again and again (You can't have this rice, this is 12 oz. and you need 16 oz.) she finally summons the courage to say, "I'll go and get the right size."

At this exact point, a second customer enters my line. I immediately turn to J. Desk who is standing next to self-checkout.

Me: You might want to open another line.
J. Desk: Nope. (Exits.)
Self-Checkout Person of Windsor: Yea, though the passage of time be corrupt in mine endeavors, we thrust the point of lacking companions...
Me: This isn't the Shakespeare thread.
SCP: Sorry.
Me: I guarantee you in a minute it'll be a really long line if someone doesn't open another one. (One minute later) Told you so.

She came back with the WRONG ITEM AGAIN! Look you, it says SIXTEEN OZ. I know you are not the Wizard of Oz, but you should know what sixteen of them look like.

Same thing happened today, to a very similar person. Me. Only this time the lady was complaining that we didn't carry any 16 oz. rice in that size. No duh! We just implemented a huge, twenty page memo that made sure we were going to stop carrying some things!

Of course, we still had some 16 oz. rice for WICs, just not in her brand. TOO BAD!

*It should read, "16 oz. or fewer", but never mind. We only just changed the express checkout sign (which we never use) to "15 items or fewer" in 2005.


Shakespeare Is Dead

Today I finally had a second customer who complained about putting the phone number on the check. In fact, he outright REFUSED to put it on.

I was going to call the Desk, but BossholeTM was right there.

Me: "I just need the approval for letting this go through without the number on it."
Customer: "I never had to put it on before, and I'm not about to start doing so."
Bosshole: "Fine. Allow it."
Me: (putting it through) "So, was the memo that said--"
Bosshole: "What memo?"
Me: "You know, we had a memo saying they had to put their phone numbers on the c--"
Bosshole: (leaving) "I'll have a talk with you later."

That was ominous. He basically adopted the tone of voice that implied, "You're in trouble; we need to have a long talk whereby I reprimand you severely for your hostile actions toward me in front of a customer. You're making our store policy look bad by trying to actually follow it."

Of course, he never got around to having a talk with me, we are very understaffed; and I wish we were even more understaffed from him quitting.

I stopped asking for phone numbers. That'll learn him.


J. Deskbaggery

J. Desk was somewhat antagonistic to some of us today. Yesterday we had ANOTHER memo that said we had to be careful about the store stickers getting all over everything, and in the interests of cleanliness, we were now responsible for removing them when they got stuck to anything.

So I got back from break, and J. Desk notices two stickers on the bagging area. "Whose dots are these? Did you put them here?"

I remembered them. I put them on two bottles of milk, but they fell off. Because the stickers don't stick. Like that was my fault or something.

I told J. I did NOT put them there. He didn't believe me. He said, "Well, regardless of if they're yours, they're at YOUR register, so before you leave you have to get a scraper and remove the--"

I was already finished removing them and held their mortal remains up for him to see. "These?"

I told you they weren't very sticky.

Some days I would like to torpedo the "surface desk". Sometimes I can hear them calling, "I am U-571, destroy me!"


Digs (Three Different Ones)

1. A conversation with a customer got out of control with bizarre volleys of wit from both sides, to the extent that he said, "Too much philosophy." Eh? What?

2. I suddenly realized today, management's always trying to get us to work faster, but not slower. What happens when we go so fast that we make lots of mistakes? How does one go slower when under constant pressure to increase speed? It becomes a force of habit to go fast.

3. The customer who always sings an old love song with the bagger's name in it came in and sang the song. It's touchy, and more melodramatic every year... but both the bagger and customer have been doing this routine for years, and are very old people... I can only think in my sarky way, who's going to drop dead first? And will it be while the song is being sung?


Here Comes President Kill Again

Yes! On top of everything else today, we had the President of our company coming over! Just like a couple months ago, when the CEO announced she was coming over, but then didn't show up.

This time I didn't have the two of them confused or anything. This was the President. He's the guy who appears in our newsletter. He's the guy out of whom I want to punch his lights. (Yes, that sentence is correct. Somehow.)

At one point I thought all our insane cleaning, shelf-rearranging, sticker removing, product discontinuing, soda machine installing, and deskbaggery was just solely so the President could arrive, look at it, and say "Hmmm, yes," before getting back into his limo and setting his tires to "screech".

Instead, he did his duty as Important Executive and didn't show up.

I swear, it's like these clowns, whom I didn't vote for, KNOW they have nothing here waiting for them except a punch in the face!

[Magpie]

The current suckiness was in the 16 oz. rice/tortilla/oatmeal category. It doesn't say "16 oz. or less*", so it MUST be 16 oz. or else you can't have it.

*It should read, "16 oz. or fewer", but never mind. We only just changed the express checkout sign (which we never use) to "15 items or fewer" in 2005.

Isn't volume a continuum, i.e. not countable?

[Zoom]

You Go, Boss

Today BossholeTM was complained to enough by an SC that he accepted (i.e. made me take) a coupon for a Caravel cake even though it wasn't a manufacturer's coupon, just a Caravel store coupon. (His argument was that Caravel has stores, but the customer wasn't buying it. Especially without the discount.)

He also summoned me to the desk right before my break. Then I was told by a nice Desk clan member to read and sign unsigned memos-- ALL ONE OF THEM-- and as Bosshole was in the back, I went on break. Immediately he came out of the back door and paged me back to the desk.

"Nice," I said. "Do you want something?"

"We were talking earlier about whether checks should have the phone number on them." EARLIER?!? That was last week! And we weren't talking about that, but rather about whether they should be forced to write them down.

"Well, it says here--" he brandishes the memo, which I just knew he was going to bring out-- "that employees are supposed to ask for the phone number, after the check has been approved and printed, if it is not written on the check or printed on the back."

Pause for breath? Nope. "Therefore, you should be doing this."

Just excellent. He's scolding me for not doing what I was doing, then stopped doing because he told me to wait until we had this conversation.

"I AM doing this," I reply. Never mind the fact that I actually stopped doing this-- why obfuscate matters with silly things like facts?

"But you were asking for the number before it was printed on the back of the check. In most cases, (our third party check acceptor) will print the number, and it counts as a valid number."

"Does 000-0000 count as a valid number?" I shoot back, saying 'zero' rapidly instead of 'oh'.

"..."

"Because that's all it ever prints."

"... Hold on, let me check something."

And off he scampered, into the back!

He had to recant everything he said to me that day, except for "Accept this coupon", which he probably forgot about.

"I don't know why it's been doing that. OK, ask for the number, but if they say no, take the check anyway."

Great! Now I don't even have to ask, because I can just say they said no.

Work Avoidance Powers, Activate!

The rest of the day either saw Bosshole or J. Desk buzzing around the registers, scrubbing off rogue atoms that corporate didn't like the looks of.

Later that day I asked someone to write down the phone number on the check anyway (maybe someone was buzzing and I had to look like I was doing right by him), and I recognized the guy as someone I'd had to ask before. That really underscores the futility of everything.


Speak Of The Dirt Devil...

Store was worse today. Now people were in with drills screwing things in and out to improve the shelf quality. The shambles was acquiring its own shambles.

Groceries were everywhere, and price tags were nowhere because they weren't at the proper place on the shelf.

A few customers somehow had grocery directories that told them what aisles things were in. How could this possibly be helpful, when nothing was where it was supposed to be yet? And if it was an older directory, it would be just as useless. We are in a transition phase from bad to really bad.

And nobody ever complained that we had stopped carrying anything, until I would happen to mention that it was the reason for the overhaul whereupon they would launch into an invective of spittle and threaten to go to another of our poorly-run stores and get the same deal over there.

And dust! Dust everywhere!

Yesterday there were no spray bottles or paper towels, so we couldn't clean anything. Were they gone for good? My dust allergies were getting mighty sore*. Whenever the Buzzers needed to appease their corporate atom-smashing, they would get their own stuff out and work their magic.

Today it got worse. Even though I was actually given a spray bottle, there was nothing to clean off the spray! And the allergies were making my nose itch so severely that without something abrasive to stop it, I had to stick my pen up my nose every few minutes.

I'm sure they had this in mind when they thought "Paper towels? We go through those like crazy. We could probably save $200 a year if we don't bother with supplying them. Yeah, make them use their sleeves to dry things, and have them scratch their dusty noses with their pens. It'll have the added bonus of keeping the customers from stealing them."

*Coming Summer 2011. Starring Chris Hemsworth. This phlegm is not yet rated.

[Zoom]

Tales of Suspenders!

Mr. Suspenders was my bagger today. I call him that because a) he is male, and b) he wears suspenders. Also his name tag does NOT have his real name on it, or even a ballpark guess, so he wouldn't mind if I gave him a fanciful nickname.

Every single time I'm finishing a transaction, handing coupons/receipts/money to a customer, he immediately pipes up with "ThankyouverymuchforshoppingatStoreWeappreciateyou rbusinessHaveanicedayMa'am/Sir."

This when I'm trying to mention how much the customer saved by using the store card, or counting back the change given, or even to say something like "Here are your stamps".

This when he hasn't even finished 2/3 of the bagging! Thus causing hilarity when the customer, having heard the Maserati go by, thinks she has the green light and leaves lots of food behind.

At least he has the gall to summon the customer back to bequeath her the fruits of the fevered sweat of his brow. And then launch into the same verbal tsunami.

And now for today's episode: Loose Brainge

Customers leave change behind in the change machine so often, and the 20-meter dash has had its record broken so often, that for the most part, us experienced workers have taken to apathy. If they want the change, they'll be back soon enough. They only have to show me the receipt for me to know how much to give them. Oh dear, they forgot to take that, too. (Shrugs shoulders.)

Today K-- See? He got me so mad at him, I almost called him by name! Or at least the name on his name tag.

*AHEM*. Today Mr. Suspenders was scrambling like a jet fighter every time there was money left behind. "OhMissYouleftyourCHANGE!!!!!!!!" In fact, he was so forceful and vitriolic that I'm surprised he doesn't actually throw the change AT her every time.

After the fourth such cacophoniacal outburst, the following exchange ensued:

Me: You realize, of course, that you don't have to go through all that.
Sus: Through all what?
Me: The rigamarole of yelling after someone who forgot a measly few cents, and probably won't be back for it.
Sus: But every penny counts! It's money in the bank! A nickel here and a dime there!
Me: So?
Sus: (more catch phrases-- "It's the economy", etc.)
Me: So??
Sus: We need to be careful with our money these days!
Me: Ah. Apparently you have a different definition of the word "WE" than I do. Wouldn't you rather have this extra money safely ensconced in the drawer, keeping our jobs safe?

Anyway, I was being sucky there, but he deserved it. I don't know why they made him do bagging today. He almost never does bagging. He didn't do much bagging today either. Lot of standing though.


The Bags of Wrath

(At last! A title that sounds like both a Steinbeck novel and a Doctor Who story!)

In 2009, the rare breed known as Executives came up with a surefire way to go green, short of a lick of paint, gamma radiation or letting moss grow on the walls. In short, the elimination of the plastic bag, and its eventual replacement by cloth bags, which cost $1 or $2 depending on whether there's a sports-related corporate logo on it.

One guy (we'll call him James because I forgot what I usually call him on this forum) went around for nearly an entire month telling every single customer, "ONLY TWO YEARS! THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE LEFT TO USE PLASTIC BAGS! WE'RE GOING TO STOP CARRYING THEM IN TWO YEARS!"

Cut to this year. James has stopped his Town Cry of "All's Not Well!" and has probably forgotten about the unstoppable force that is the Disintegration of Polymer-Based Containers.

Today, however, the bags ran out.

Slack or inefficient ordering has been blamed, but not any actual people, interestingly, even though there must be people at some point in this process, or else THAT was why we ran out.

I got to greet customers with "Good afternoon! You're just in time, we have enough bags left for you." This seemed to please them, but in keeping the suckiness down, it made the orders go faster, so we used more bags.

It got to the point that baggers and checkers were going around stealing bags from other registers while they were in use!

Also, I witnessed one of the strangest sights: Customers with no bagger AND no bags, going over to the other end and not bagging anything! Just sort of standing there.

Incredibly, people actually refrained from asking for double bags, or for extra bags for items with handles (a few milk jugs got bagged though). I still had the bags and continued to use them right up to the end of the entire store supply.

Finally we got the OK* to start using paper bags. And just as we started... I got to go on break. When I returned, the emergency supply of plastic bags had been delivered and it was back to normalcy.

*Which apparently means either "Old Kinderhook" or "Oll Korrect". Man, are 19th century word origins a gas.


Carbon-Based Deathforms

So apparently BossholeTM has been trolling us for incorrect WIC transactions.

If I accidentally don't take off the tax while running the WIC through the machine, there's nothing I can do to take it off afterwards. It's been run through, and can't be voided. Apparently because of this sloppy methodology, we can get yelled at for making the mistake, even though there is no recourse when the mistake is made.

Oh, and if there is a WIC overage (i.e. when it goes over the amount listed on the form), we're supposed to print a duplicate receipt. WTF?!? When did that come in? Someone snuck that into our rules while I was still getting used to printing duplicate receipts for delivery orders!

Also, it's very UNhandy, consisting as it does of even more waiting on top of the copious lethargy inherent in the WIC-acceptance process. Print duplicate receipt, quite easy even though there's some hunt-and-peck to find the option. Manager override? Not so much.


Self-Fulfilling Problemcy

He also made me read the tons of new memos we had. One was just page after page of emails back and forth between other stores about new, deceptive scams involving self-checkouts and coupons. I'd tell you about some of them, but you could probably figure out how they went.

As if to punctuate matters, they made me do self-checkouts after my second break. I kept waiting for the line to go down on one unit so I could put some much-needed bags on it! But at that exact moment, another unit was taken down to have its change, um, changed; so the pace was kept up and the lines lengthened. Finally I had to push through the line and foist the bags on it.

Also at that time, I got one after another person trying to scan a coupon, that should have scanned, and upon scanning successfully, would still lock up and force me to go over there to re-scan it in Assist Mode. WTF? I mean, it works, it's a valid coupon, why bother me about it? I assume they're inserting the coupon in the slot afterwards! If they're not, and this re-scan is being done because we're supposed to check that it's being inserted, why don't you actually SAY you want me to check on that?

But I like self-checkouts. Five units, one guy at a computer screen to rule them all. And I don't have to deal with about 80% of the idiocy.