Tales of Pathetica

[Zoom]

You Put The Lemon In The Coconut

SC: I got a RAIN CHECK! Oh, and I got a FREE COUPON! Oh, and I want you to DOUBLE-BAG this order! Oh, and I want this BAGGED SEPERATELY!
Me: Ugh.
SC: (finally puts the items of seperation on the belt) HERE! (hands me the free coupon, which I put on the little counter next to the scanner) HERE! (hands me the rain check, which I put next to me on the scanner)
Me: Do you have the store card?
SC: (immediately ignoring me) So Hilda, every time I open the wallet I have to close the...
Hilda: (points at me even though I'm not gesturing or anything)
SC: What? Oh, HERE (takes the free coupon and hands it back to me).
Me: (puts it back)No, may I have your store card instead?
SC: Oh where is it? (puts the card in her left hand so she can frisk her purse with her right hand)
Me: ...
SC: (stops looking) Anyway Hilda, as I was saying, when I open the wallet I... (turns to me suddenly) Oh, Hilda's order will NOT be rung up seperately, but is bagged seperately. Got that?
Me: Listen, about the store card...
SC: Oh, HERE! (hands me the store card) Now, do you need the FREE COUPON? I should get the bread FREE!
Me: Thanks! (rings up the bread, and all the other items in the "seperate order" except the pie) OK. Let's see the rain check.
SC: Do I get the bread for FREE?!?
Me: It's a coupon for free bread. Now about the r--
SC: But you charged me!
Me: Well, how else am I going to take off the price of the bread if it isn't on there?
SC: ...
Hilda: The rain check is good, don't worry about that.
Me: (looks at rain check) OK... OK, seems all right. You got the coconut pie. But... it says two of them, and...
SC: The second one is at the end of the order. Keep going.
Me: (notices Hilda's groceries still in the cart, doesn't say anything)
SC: So listen Hilda, when I get home I want to tell you about... (fades)
Bagger A.: Do you want a bag for the--
Me: Oh, sorry, she wants it double-bagged. And that part is seperate.
Hilda: (fade in, talking to SC)...well it's not a big deal. I can wait.
Me: Where's the second pie? Oh, here it is. Wait a minute.
SC: What's the problem?
Me: Well, the rain check says "Coconut" quantity two, but you're buying one coconut and one lemon.
SC: Well if you'd ACTUALLY LOOK at the rain check, it doesn't matter. It says Lemon OR Coconut.
Me: No, actually it says "Lemon", which is then crossed out and replaced with "Coconut". Hold on, let me call the Desk on this one.
SC: It shouldn't matter, and anyway you only HAD one coconut.
J. Desk: Yeah?
Me: (explains) So can we take it, even though it says two c-
J. Desk: No. No. We can't take i- Let me ask Clag.
Me: (Who is Clag? There's nobody by that name in the store...)
J. Desk: (incredibly rattles off the whole situation more efficiently than a mailbox with a goat stuck in it could handle junk mail)
"Clag"(?): No. Don't accept it. Tell her to get another rain check for more coconuts.
Me: Great. Thanks.
SC: Well? Do I get the bread for FREE?!?!?
Me: (sees Mrs. B. Desk walking by) Hold on. (to Mrs. B. Desk) Can you believe it? They wouldn't take the rain check.
Mrs. B. Desk: Who wouldn't?
Me: Cla- um, the desk.
Mrs. B. Desk: (looks at rain check) Well, I'm also the desk, and I say take it!
Me: So, one says don't take it, one says take it. Now what?

I think I'll leave this one hanging, like "The Italian Job".

[Zoom]

Hole, Part 3

Well, the last cone has dropped into the hole, or been stolen or something. Nobody at work has reported cars breaking their axles, so it seems we only had locals driving through who know about the hole.

Disaster in 3...2...


This Means WAR!

I just found out today that the embargo on redundancy engaged by the store extends to my brand of peanut butter. Which means either I switch brands (NEVER!), shop at the farther away location (by bus), or try to buy it online.

But, this truly is the last straw. Now I am actually angry at their stupid policy and will fight against it with all my might.

How can they consider themselves serving their customers better by taking away their freedom of choice?

Because of my time constraints, picketing corporate is out, but I'm sure I'll think of something.


Void Where Prohibited

Another desk person (I'll call her Moon), whom is very annoying, tried to rip me a new one while I was taking coupons. How can I tell such a BITCH that she is wrong when she is calling ME wrong? No idea.

The scenario went as follows:

Order was scanned. Then coupons were taken, including a $5 off something or other that was nonfood. Since it won't scan, the only way I can take it is by manually taking it off as a $5 Grocery coupon.

Then she paid with Link card (plastic food stamps).

Now, in the past, one was not supposed to take coupons until after the Link card has been used, because of a programming error which made the totals wrong. But I was assured in the last six months or so that this was fixed, and we can now use Link with coupons.

However, there were a few exceptions, but none of the ones I could remember applied. (But what about the ones I couldn't remember? It wasn't as if I could go and look up those photocopies of memos... they don't HAVE photocopies for us to peruse.)

Anyway, remaining amount was $5 too high, so I tried to remove the coupon.

Surprise! I couldn't!

The "void" button takes me to a screen that does not include a "coupon" button. Therefore the only way to void a coupon is to press "void" then scan the coupon. Which was unscannable.

I called Moon over to help, and she basically yelled at me. "You weren't supposed to take it off as Grocery". Yeah, I know, but what was I supposed to do exactly?

She was absolutely no help! And here is this customer, who would like the order to be completed, waiting patiently for something to be done!

Finally the customer breaks down and says, "OK, it doesn't matter, I'll pay the difference."

But since Moon didn't anger the customer sufficiently, she reaches into the drawer and pulls out a couple other coupons from the same order. "What are THESE?" she barks at me.

"Coupons for--" I start, but she continues her train wreck with "We're NOT supposed to take internet coupons that give a free item."

"But they're not internet coupons!"

"YES THEY ARE. They're printed, therefore they are internet coupons."

Moon eventually had to deal with fixing the customer's order at the desk, probably punishingly removing the "invalid" coupons and debiting her credit card.

But she was wrong. The coupons were in color, and they had a watermark on the back. What customers print internet coupons on paper with a watermark? Nobody, that's what. Anyway, I heard the customer say she was given these coupons from the company whose product it was. THEY ARE NOT INTERNET COUPONS, and therefore could have been taken.

So we probably got a customer who won't shop here again, because of our stupid bureaucracy and our stupid bull-headed desk clanner.

And after all that yelling at me, she didn't tell me what I was supposed to have done instead of ring out the coupon as Grocery (if it has not been a Link order.) As I rang up more customers, she came by a few times to bag (and presumably to piss me off further by making sure I was doing every tiny detail correctly).

Then, as I was ringing up one order perfectly, and being extra polite, suddenly the customer pipes up. "Um, don't put the ammonia in with the bananas! What's wrong with you?"

Yes! It was she, being treated disparagingly as if she were a noob bagger. And she was certainly acting the part.

Wow. Just... wow.


Facepalmbook

We just got a paper today that we didn't have to sign.

"Guidelines For Posting On Social Media" was the title.

I knew immediately what it was. I tore it to shreds in front of Moon, crumpled up the pieces and tossed it in the trash.

"Whaja do that for?" she asked.

"Because I believe in freedom of speech."

It was basically something corporate put together to cover their ass. They didn't want us saying bad things about our company or co-workers or reveal any company secrets.

WELL, PREVENT THIS YOU ASSHOLES! ... oh wait, there isn't an emoticon of giving the finger. Well, you get the idea.

But now it has become obvious that... the enemy... knows our sort of forums exist. And will try to silence us by threatening our jobs.

Yeah, I know it said "Guidelines". Everything starts out as guidelines. Movie and video game ratings were guidelines. "No Smoking Areas" were not enforced by law. Now they are. Why? Because it was an insidiously slow build up that was never too much at one time, causing few complaints.


Competing For Most Stupid

It is beginning to look like J. Desk is trying to out-asshole The BossholeTM.

It was busy as hell. A certain kind of madness prevails whenever one tries to do things with less and less time available to do it in. Finally both customers and employees reach the breaking point, whereupon all kinds of suckitude commences.

Someone with a WIC didn't know whether we could take Tropicana orange juice. I said no, because it was "premium" and seemed to have added sugar. She accepted this and got a cranberry juice that we did take.

Being perishable, we can't put it in the overstock bin. But, being shorthanded, we can't send baggers out to return it (even if we had a bagger, which I didn't).

So I was instructed (by Bosshole, no less) to leave them on the back conveyor belt, off to the side, where they could be taken care of at earliest opportunity.

He even got mad at me once and forced me to put fruits and vegetables off to the side instead of in the bin. Fine. I'll do that, but YOU WAIT AND SEE, I forgot to yell back at him. YOU'LL BE SORRY!

A subsequent order that day was someone not wanting bananas, so off it went next to the orange juice.

All my baggers, by the way, know about the little corner off to the side where I put perishable overstock, so they know not to bag things put there. And I always watch to see if it was bagged, point it out if it was, and have them get the errant item back.

But J. Desk was bagging today.

I sensed he was going to foul up with the overstock somehow, but he didn't in two consecutive orders, including one with a Tropicana orange juice in it.

New customer, however, had four bunches of bananas and was senile, so I knew we were going to have him pointing asking for "his" bananas which were not his.

He had just asked for paper bags, and I knew there were some on #2 though I had been moved to #3 afterwards. J. Desk goes off to parts unknown to get the bags, but I rush over to #2 and grab a few.

We both get back at the same time, and cause such a flurry of bagging and such a mess that I almost didn't notice the OJ is missing.

Me: The OJ was overstock.
J. Desk: Huh?
Me: The OJ (points finger right on the empty spot on the corner) which was right here was overstock.
J. Desk: Which one was it?
Me: Tropicana.

I turn back to the customer to finish his transaction and get the printed coupons for him, and when I am done and the man walks away, I notice behind the newly-returned Tropicana is another empty space!

Me: One of the bananas was also overstock.
J. Desk: What?
Me: THE BANANAS. Overstock.

I try to be slightly frantic about it, since the man could still have been caught, but J. Desk figures it's too late and that he should scold me for this.

J. Desk: You know, you're supposed to put PERISHABLES here. Bananas go in the bin.
Me: Bananas are perishable, and they go up here.
J. Desk: No, I'm telling YOU that--
Me: Look! Bosshole himself told me to do it this way!

This should have been enough for J. Desk. But he figured later in more suckiness.

My screen suddenly reset in the middle of a credit card transaction, bringing the order to a halt. J. Desk, having been called, told me to move to #4 and complete the transaction. (That makes me a 3-register man for one day, not a good sign.)

Except... 1) How do I suspend the transaction with a blank screen? 2) How can I verify that the credit card did not go through? 3) How do I sign in when I am signed in at the broken register? 4) How do I get over to the next register and set up without other customers getting in line and in the way of the one whose order I am desperately trying to finish?

And finally, 5) How do I clean the register area when they won't give me the time to do it? (This is a problem. If I don't clean at least the phone and the scanner, I come down with terrible influenza and can be sick for weeks. It happened just this January.)

Anyway, I rush over to the next register and start getting stuff put in place (bags, paper towels, pen, cleaning spray bottle, glasses, sale paper, etc.), not anywhere near ready to go back and get the poor woman's order moved and re-rang, when J. Desk starts yelling at me.

"Um, it would be nice if you were to actually TELL the customer you are moving over here." Laughter from a couple of other checkers.

Now I was mad at him. I had told her, but she's somewhat unresponsive no matter what I say. I WAS going to go back and get the stuff and tell her again. Now all I wanted to do was deck Desk.

Anyway, J. Desk was supposed to give me his checker number to use, but he had walked off because he said he was going to look up the order total. Which I was holding in my hands. What did he think I was going to do? Just stand there and grin?

I got so enraged that I don't even remember if I re-rang the order or J. Desk did. But I remember, when on my extremely LATE break, thinking up different ways to feed his sneery expression to the trash compactor.

Meanwhile, Bosshole was here today, and was a nice guy*. The world turned upside down and shaken. Must be an Etch-a-sketch.

*Actually, my mother was in the store yesterday, and reported to me that when she went to ask Bosshole at the desk about the availability of something or other, he was feeling really overwhelmed.

[Zoom]

Just a quick update on the hole. For some reason, nothing else that was sucky has transpired in the last two weeks at Pathetica.

After the last cone vanished/was stolen or whatever, the gaping maw had a lot of garbage thrown into it, where you could see it piling up in the depths, probably blocking some sewage or something.

Then FINALLY a work crew arrived and put up a thick board and surrounded it with sandbags, putting no fewer than TWO caution horses with blinking lights on it.

No actual work done towards fixing it though.

This last week saw the steady deterioration of the fail in progress, so now some cars have run over the horses. When nobody was looking, I put one horse back up. I bet it's down again by next update.


I managed to get a copy of the corporate flyer involving "Guidelines for Participation in Social Media Forums", but I'll save that for another update because there's more documentation I found that looks juicy and needs to be fine tooth-combed in greater detail.

[Andara Bledin]

*eagerly awaits the next episode of Tales of Pathetica*



^-.-^

[Zoom]

The Egg And Dye
A Farce In Four Acts

Eggs! White round pointy things that came out of the nether end of a certain sedentary bird whose pedigree or diet can only be guessed at.

Meanwhile, people have to eat, and these things are lying around uneaten because a whole bunch of people who celebrate a ritual of uncertain and dubious origin have taken to hollowing these things out and painting them.

The corporate greed that suffocates this ritual has blossomed into the festering scab of the One-Day Sale.

More on that later.

Meanwhile, I arrived at Pathetica, ready to work my endless shift with an enthusiasm undampened as of yet.

It was not long before BossholeTM calls up. "OK, Zoom, let me call your attention to the sale paper. We have 12-packs of soda at 4/$8."
Me: (Hmmm, yesterday I just bought a crapload of them at 4/$10. Guess I'll have to buy more of them next chance I get.) OK...
BH: They can ONLY BUY EIGHT.
Me: (There's a limit on how many can be bought at that price.) Gotcha.
BH: And there's things available for the one-day sale that you have limits for, bla bla bla, drone drone drone...
Me: (Being interrupted by someone else otherwise waiting patiently*) Uh huh...
BH: (Click.)
Me: (Ah! He must be done with his gabbing.)

ACT II

(Enter a Man of Cathay with a wire trolley pregnant with colourful boxes.)
Man of Cathay: Pray good sir, I bid for thy prestidigitations upon thy keyboard for my purchase's sake.
Me: What? Why are we talking like Shakespeare?
Man of Cathay: I am not! I do speak like that splendid fellow, Christopher Marlowe.
Me: Same guy.
MoC: That is a matter of debate. In any case, wilt thou complete my custom?
Me: OK, OK. How many sodas--
MoC: No, no, do it right!
Me: (sighs)How be-ith the quantity of thy poppery?
MoC: Um... (counts)
Me: Oh, never thou offer thy mind, I know 'tis a onescore. (Aside) And for my life of twice the number, I know that but twenty is far beyond the telescope of the store's special offer, but that the price's limit be confined to eight...
MoC: I can hear that, you know.
Me: ...
MoC: In my sight, I do behold having achieved the full savings nonetheless.
Me: A onescore of the beverage containing coca extract. Wherein have the rings been worn, yea, worn out their welcome in a constant staccato of scanning. I bid thee good imbibing.
(Exeunt.)

ACT III

(In which all comes together in a huge explosion, and sounds NOTHING like Shakespeare.)

So (I can't remember his name right this moment, the rage has clouded my mind) relieves me, saying "Bosshole wants to see you." I go to him.
BH: Did you ring up this order? (holds up a receipt with 20 Coca-Colas on it)
Me: Yes. I notice he actually saved the--
BH: I told you, you weren't supposed to let him have more than eight.
Me: I thought you said there was a limit of eight! And that more than eight would not give him the--
BH: Nope! Didn't you even listen to what I said?

This pissed me off.

1. No, I didn't listen to what you said, mainly because I was being interrupted by customers, but also because you couldn't possibly expect me to REMEMBER these things.
2. This was a verbal exchange and has NO VALUE! I didn't sign my name to anything.
3. As there was plenty of room for misinterpretation, you are an idiot and a total failure. You could have hammered the point home with "You must NOT sell him nine 12-packs!"
4. Since when is it considered acceptable to refuse a sale of a ton of soda pop? What if they were willing to pay full price? Double price?
5. Why can't you and your massive team of executive morons change the system data so it'll ring up correctly?

I asked him a couple of the more polite of these questions. Basically he brought forth the mantra, "We can't change the system."

The worst part of this was, the MoC had come back, attempting to return four Pepsis. I had not rung up Pepsis. Sorry man, no time for your attempt at ripping us off, the boss is on the Blame Rampage.

ACT IV

Been ringing up sodas, CORRECTLY this time. Fortunately nobody bought more than eight, so I didn't turn anyone away.

Then I realized I had been ringing up a lot of eggs**, and considered a recent order of six dozen... waitaminute, SIX DOZEN? (picks up phone)
Mr. Desk: Yes?
Me: What was the limit on eggs?
Mr. Desk: Two. Also they need the $25 purchase...
Me: What? OK, thanks. (looks in paper)
SC: We're still waiting.
Me: When did you get here? I didn't see you in the cast list.
SC: We've been here. Are you--
Me: You're not going to start talking like Shakespeare, by any chance?
SC: What?
Me: OK, here it is in the paper. (reads) "Limit of 2 dozen", and right here under where it says "One-Day Sale", "You are entitled to these prices with a seperate $25 purchase."
SC: OK, we don't need all eight of these. We'll just take the two dozen.
Me: You need a $25 purchase.
SC: (failing to comprehend) Well, we were going to buy the eight dozen...
Me: But even if that were acceptable, it's less than $25, and it isn't even seperate.
SC: (Gives six dozen eggs to his wife) We'll take these back.
Me: But they won't even let me sell... Hold on. (pushes buttons on phone)
Mr. Desk: Yes again?
Me: OK, the couple have eight dozen eggs, they understand the limit is two, so they'll buy two dozen, but they don't have a seperate $25 pu-
Mr. Desk: No, you can't sell it to them.
Me: But what if they want to just buy eg-
Mr. Desk: Nope. We can't change the system.
Me: Somehow the bureaucracy has gone insane. I can't even sell you any eggs.
SC: Oh, that's all right. We'll just put them back. Thank you very much. (goes back)

(Slightly later...)
Next Checker Over: (to me) You know, you could have just sold it to them at full price if they wanted it.
Me: Nope. I was told they "can't change the system". I presume that means I can't override the price.
NCO: (to Mr. Desk as he walks by) Is this true?
Mr. Desk: Yes, we can't change it.
NCO: So we have to refuse the sale?
Mr. Desk: Absolutely.
Forgot Name of Guy: (walks by) Got any one-day sale overstock?
Me: You mean the eggs? No, the SCs returned all eight dozen themselves.
FNoG: Wow.
Next SC: Hi. (puts eggs on conveyer belt)
Me: (rings up everything else, hoping to reach $25. failing) Um, you need $6 more to qualify for the offer.
Next SC: Doesn't matter, I just want the eggs anyway.
FNoG: You know, you can override the sale with the full price.
Me: Nuh uh, I was told they can't have it.
NCO: (to me) I told you you could override it!
Me: But Mr. Desk just told you... told me... (to Next SC) Hold on. (picks up phone)
Mr. Desk: Yes again?
Me: (usual spiel)
Mr. Desk: No, we can't change the-
Me: What if someone HAD TO HAVE EGGS?!?!? NOTHING ELSE, JUST EGGS!!!
Mr. Desk: Well, you should probably override the price then with the full $1.49 one.
Me: THANK YOU!!!! (slam!)

And he's wrong too; full price is really $1.39. Or was. It's a one day sale and it's over now.

The rest of this week and start of the next one will be filled with people trying to get the bargains. They will not buy within the limit. They will not have a $25 prerequisite purchase. But more importantly, they will not get the sale price.

One thing they will do, however, is complain.

*For all you Star Trek fans, "patiently waiting".

**Even though eggs don't ring. They might go "peep" if one waits long enough, but probably not these ones.

[Andara Bledin]

4. Since when is it considered acceptable to refuse a sale of a ton of soda pop?

There is actually a method to this madness.

If the sale is good enough, they want to have enough soda on hand to sell it to everyone who comes in to buy it. If you let everyone that wanted buy 20 as opposed to 8, you'd only be able to satisfy 2/5 of the customers coming for soda.

^-.-^

[Zoom]

If the sale is good enough, they want to have enough soda on hand to sell it to everyone who comes in to buy it. If you let everyone that wanted buy 20 as opposed to 8, you'd only be able to satisfy 2/5 of the customers coming for soda.

Yeah, but a sale is a sale. We generally *NEVER* sell out of soda, even with a ridiculously low price.

My take on this is the store didn't want people buying 20 thinking it was all on sale, then returning 12 where they would not be resold until after the sale.

Where, however, is the method to the madness of not being able to fix the system so that scanning the ninth item results in a "NOT FOR SALE" or "QUANTITY EXCEEDED" error message?

[Geek King]

Yeah, but a sale is a sale. We generally *NEVER* sell out of soda, even with a ridiculously low price.

It is also done in the case of loss leader items so that other vendors don't buy up stock cheaper than than from the suppliers and resell it. No sense in supporting your competition, after all.

[Zoom]

Currently I am in the midst of a FUCKING HUGE EPIC story that hasn't resolved yet (I get these once in a while), so I'm not going to be available to tell the stories that have been piling up of late, so here's what I can post now while I have some time:

Honey, I Blew Up The Ham

Once in a while, the idiots at deli will not pay attention to what they typed for the bag sticker, and it comes across as $700 or more. PER POUND!

A couple of weeks ago, it was the same mistake, only it was also marked Honey Ham instead of CHICKEN. Nobody in sight of me was buying ham. Nor was anyone in sight who apparently knew how to use the pricing machine.

I can sympathize with the overworked deli people, having once done deli work myself back in 1990-2, but somewhere Bob Barker is shaking his head.

Whenever something like this happens, I can usually detect the inordinate amount of black ink before ringing it up, so as to avoid an override. More inexperienced checkers will not, the poor souls. When dealing with $200+ overrides (and this one would have been $1500!), you get some pretty spare looks from Inhumanagers TM.


Surgeon General's Warning

Found a memo that was out of the way, pinned to the wall in the breakroom next to the BossholeTM's office.

There was a big long article written by the President of Pathetica about how Obama's health care force-feeding is going to affect the existing plan.

He came right out and said we "weren't going to be affected" very much, but that they had "a team of lawyers" trying to decipher the document, and that "we will get back to you with how the plan will change our health care".

Meaning? He's lying. He either doesn't know how this is going to turn everything upside-down, or else he's using doublespeak to indicate the company won't be affected because they'll be transferring the extra costs to the employees.

At one point he does mention that it will likely entail extra costs, so he really can't escape from the ramifications that no doublespeak will soften.

I've heard of bricks being thrown through windows because of this plan. I do so hope our company doesn't treat the situation like it will go away somehow.

One more thing was, the memo was an email with the margins off the paper, so I didn't get all of the text, just the gist of what was said. Obviously we employ some fine, competent computer people.


No Baggers A Lot!

Things have now reached the point where we have NO baggers for long periods.

Something like 25-30% of customers (SC and NSC both*) would notice there was no bagger, and dutifully start their own bagging. If this keeps up, inhumanagement will eventually notice, and eliminate the bagger position entirely.

Usually they bring up the situation lightheartedly, joking they should get paid for their bagging job. I usually respond that they need to pay union dues first.

Last week, a woman said "I could use a job bagging here, I was just fired yesterday." I couldn't think of anything to say to her to console her.

Eventually customers will notice the hiring freeze isn't being rescinded any time soon... wonder if they will start demanding more baggers, even at the cost of an increased grocery bill?


You Can Bank On This

Every time our bank-within-a-grocery-store gets robbed, the NEXT TWO DAYS, we always get a security guard standing around the bank, staring at all passersby, looking creepy. It never fails.

This despite the fact that the "bad guys" have already gotten away with the spoils, and all our customers are too stupid to copycat anything except asking for their orders to be paper bagged, and even then only when there are paper bags visible.

The second day, the security guard ALWAYS brings a chair and just sits there, continuing to stare at everyone.

If there's a third day, he usually falls asleep in the chair. Hence why there is no fourth day.

Barn door, meet back of the horse.


Red Vs. Blue

Our store cards have had many designs. The original one was credit-card sized, and used to be a check card only, until the savings card system was added in the late 1980s.

Smaller designs have been made for keychains. One type was deemed too similar in size to our competitor**, who on a whim I'll call "Dominatrix".

So now there is an even smaller design, which is, of course, fine. Really. Something like 40% of customers have already lost their cards, why not make it 100%?

But now we have employee store cards, which are red. Red? Blue? Who cares about the colors? Well, normally nobody, but a certain pharmacy, who on a whim I won't come up with a name for, has a card the exact shade of red, with similar printing on it.

So now, when a customer accidentally offers me the wrong card, I have to look at it closely before accidentally scanning it (because it WILL go through, and generate savings anyway, and the next day the Bosshole will claim I'm making up numbers!).

Which means even just scanning the card is taking longer. (As if me having to do bagging after the checking didn't lengthen the order time already!)

One thing that has helped, though, is that I've memorized the store's saving card number, so I no longer have to walk over to self-checkout with the hand scanner.


Robot Tussin'

My notes include the phrase "Robot Tussin'", but I don't remember any anecdote that goes with this pun. I assume a robot didn't actually buy cough medicine.


The Cat In Arrears Comes Back

The "Man of Cathay" returned, trying to buy more soda. For once he was thwarted at the moat. but the sale is now over, and I got four days off of work, so I don't care any more.

Hopefully they won't try to pull anything like this travesty of a sale again any time soon.


Corporate Socialism At Work (Long)

I have the corporate flyer I mentioned earlier in front of me. Let's have a look, shall we?

Pathetica is excited about the possibilities of better connecting with our customers to increase their satisfaction with our company, brands and banners through social media. Pathetica will be creating multiple company-sponsored social media sites, such as Facebook fan pages and Twitter accounts, on which we encourage associates participate on their own time. To help enable associates who wish to participate on these sites, or reference the company or their work-related experiences on their personal social media sites, Pathetica has created a set of guidelines. The following guidelines are only for when you reference the company or your job in any social media forum such as blogs, microblogs (i.e. Twitter), content sharing sites (i.e. YouTube, Flickr), social networking sites (i.e. Facebook, MySpace, LinkedIn), Internet Discussion Forums (i.e. Yahoo! Groups); and Wikis (i.e. Wikipedia), including your personal sites such as your personal Facebook page.

Yes, this is all one long paragraph. Let's stop there.

Yes, I am aware that they said "GUIDELINES", but this is always how this sort of hing begins. First, movie or video game ratings were "GUIDELINES" for whether to consider not taking Junior, then they started enforcing them after they were already in place.

So basically, the company is now trying to control how we communicate about it. On to the guidelines.

Identify yourself - When you post or comment, indicate that you work for or are affiliated with the company, and use your name.

Translation? Let us know who you are so we can come after you for speaking against us.

Let people know your comments are your own - specifically state that your postings or comments are your own opinions, not company statements.

OK, they just want to cover their asses, but this is also a way to identify troublemakers.

...for example, it's okay to post your opinion, such as "Our wings are okay, but I wish they had more spice.". It's not okay to post comments that use offensive words, such as "Our wings really suck." It is okay to post that you don't like a product, just don't use offensive or derogatory language while doing so.

Or else what, motherfuckers? You gonna whop me upside the head wit yer guidelines? Send the fucking Guideline Police after me and lock me away in Guidelineatraz? Fuck you. Also, your wings really suck.***

Never disclose or comment on Confidential Information. the company does monitor for potential risks to the business, including social media forums.

Oh, then I guess I shouldn't have posted parts of this confidential flyer, huh? Seeing as it was only intended for 10,000 employees. Guess what, though? It isn't copyrighted, so tough.

Actually, I'll stop there. It really bugs me that they think someone posting on Customers Suck or somewhere else is a greater threat to their business than the bad things they do that make us post on Customers Suck. Like this flyer.


*But not NTSC, whose clarity of vision helps them know not to come here.
**How anyone fits through those tiny doors, I'll never know.
***I mean, they keep falling off the plane.

[Magpie]

Actually they might be able to get in trouble in certain circumstances if you don't reveal that you work for the company. Not necessarily legal trouble, but if you talk about the company, without revealing that you work there, it might come across that the company is pressuring you to say nice things about it, which just looks really really bad to everyone.

[Andara Bledin]

Or you could be accused of astroturfing.

Which, again, looks bad for the company.

^-.-^

[Zoom]

Bosshole's Dénouement

This started over a month ago. It was very painful to go through. However, it has a semi-happy ending. I have a WoW raid in an hour and fifteen, so I'll keep it brief.

She walked into my line with all the politeness of soneome who was not sincere about it, but knew the importance of putting on kindly airs.

She: I have a number of different orders.
Me: OK.
She: They made these coupons so they only work one to an order. I finally figured it out last time. (hands over the "coupons")
Me: Huh?

The "coupons" were actually gift certificates for $5.00. Four of them. These were made by Pathetica and are rewards to associates who have been doing some stupid Pathetica program, in this case offering the special of the week, greeting the customer with eye contact, and thanking it at the end of the order.

Perfectly straightforward stuff, apart from offering the special (which I never, ever did without someone of pretend importance breathing down my neck).

Except... these reward certificates are given out by the managers once the secret shoppers tell them they were propositioned with the Corporate Brownnosing.

And... those of us who work at this Pathetica have never gotten FOUR certificates in... how short a time was it? Maybe she was saving up.

Me: How did you get four of these? I've never seen this many at o-
She: My husband earned all of these for asking about the special. I get them all the time.
Me: OK, all right.

In my mind flashed a recent memo: "DO NOT ACCEPT COUPONS GREATER THAN $5 PRINTED OFF THE INTERNET". And another one: "BEWARE THE COUNTERFEIT COUPONS FOR $5".

Me: (suddenly grabs phone) Do you mind if I call the desk to verify them? We normally don't get more than one at once.
She: No, go ahead.
Barbera Desk: Hello?
Me: Hi, I need to verify these $5 certificates they give to associates. There's four of them, and--
Barbera Desk: (verifies they're real) As long as they're real, go ahead and take them.
Me: Thanks. (hangs up) Sorry, it's just that, you realize that since there's four of them all at once...
She: I used two of them last week, so this should be no problem.

So, now there are SIX. And who knows how many more she decided to leave until next time? How many secret shoppers infest her alleged husband's alleged store? Do they have any regular shoppers? Moreover, is he, like, the only employee in the entire store?

The whole thing sounded fake, but since the certificiates looked genuine, and there was no limitation, I was willing to take them.

Me: Anyway, I'll take them, but you have to admit, using four at a time seems... well... (I had to say it) suspicious.
She: ...
Me. So... (goes to start keying out the orders with the certificates)
She: Hold on a minute. Did you just say these coupons aren't legitimate?
Me: What?
She: My husband earned every one of these coupons! He works very hard.
Me: To be honest, I've never seen four at once. We almost never get these.
She: (ignoring my trying to get back to RINGING OUT THE DAMN CERTIFICIATES) Is there someone I can speak with?
Me: All right. (calls)
Barbera Desk: Yes?
Me: The customer wishes to speak with someone now.
Barbera Desk: Oh, great. I'll be right down. (walks over) All right, what seems to be the problem?
Me: The customer thinks that...
She: Can I speak with her please?
Me: ...
She: Well?

We know where this is going, don't we? If I consent, I'll never be able to get across that she was misinterpreting what I said. The only way out of this predicament was to interrupt her and say she was being WRONG. I chickened out.

Me: All right.
She: (pointing) HE said the coupons weren't legitimate!
Me: No, I said they--
She: Don't interrupt me.
Barbera Desk: Let's talk over here (motioning over to the wall next to the desk).

A couple minutes pass, during which the orders are still not keyed out. No customers were in line, but it was a tense moment. Then both walk back.

Barbera: You're gonna take the reward slips?
Me: Yes. (does so)
Barbera: (to She) So what is the problem?
She: HE insulted my husband and our family name by calling our actions illegitimate!
Me: NO!
She: YES! I demand...

Ah! Let's stop there for a second. It was about time. Now we have the crux of the matter. She was looking for an excuse for someone to question her scamming activities, so she could act all insulted and get someone to give her more things. We all know this type of dirt clod.

I was willing to believe the reward slips were genuine until precisely that moment. When she uttered the word "demand", I knew she had to have stolen the slips herself, and that she was not only unmarried, but maybe didn't even work at Pathetica.

Shortly thereafter, BossholeTM came into the picture. As I was getting some bags from the closet, she was standing next to it with her cart full of virtually free stuff (after the certificates, she ended up paying $1.29 or so per order, but she was probably trying to get it marked down to free by yelling about her "treatment"), gabbing with Bosshole (for clearly, Barbera was being sensible and wanted nothing to do with calming down the scammy lady).

She: ...then HE said we don't take these coupons, and that he never got any of these before.
Me: (walking past) I never said that.

I didn't listen to anything further of her tirade. I never said we DIDN'T take the coupons, and I never said I NEVER got them. In fact, I got one, once.

ONCE, out of the entire five years the rewards program was in effect.

As for accepting them, I have done so before.

Maybe FOUR or FIVE times in the entire five years.

At the end of that sordid day, I was glad to be out of there. Bosshole had spent so much time listening to her gabbing, that I figured she'd tripped herself up and revealed how stupid she was, so I didn't even bother asking him if he wanted to hear what actually happened,k or even if he wanted a statement from me.

Big mistake.

Next day went normally. I waited for someone to bring up "The Terrible Tragedy of Scammy Lady's Mouth", by G. K. Chesterton, but nothing commenced for a couple hours until they asked me to go on my break a bit early.

"Oh," said Moon, "and while you're up there you need to talk to the Bosshole."

Finally!

I get there, but Bosshole is nowhere to be found. Instead, someone of similar rank is there (I think he manages another department, possibly HR? I wasn't paying attention). I'll call him Hernandez, though that's subject to change if I can come up with something better later on.

Me: Hi.
Ramirez: No, I like Hernandez better.
Me: Sorry.
Hernandez: Where'd you get this name from?
Me: I had some friends with that name who-- um, you wanted to see me?
H: Yeah. Bosshole left this for you to sign. Do you know what it is?
Me: I have a sneaky suspicion.
H: This isn't a write-up, only a verbal warning.

Why? Why do verbal warnings have to be on paper??? More importantly, if it's a verbal warning from Bosshole, who wasn't here that day, how can he be verbal about it?

Me: (looks at it)

All of the woman's lies were printed in there as if I had done them, and no lip service whatsoever was paid to the possibility that I hadn't done any of it, and might have a few thousand words to spew about that.

Me: I'm not signing this.
H: Well, you don't have to sign this, you have that right.
Me: (shows Hernandez how I didn't do any of the things caterwauled about by Fibby Mouth)
H: Right, right. Well, I just need to get a notary to witness that you read it but are refusing to sign it.

He does so. However, he doesn't know why Bosshole couldn't be there to present this Document of Doom. Probably had the day off, I surmise.

I am totally enraged at this point. I can hardly see straight. Every customer I am forced to ring up the rest of the day drives me further into a pit of pure adrenaline contempt for Bosshole. By the time I get home, I am thinking of ways I can kill him.

Over the weekend, I think long and hard about what he has done. At first I was going to tell the union about this, but the best they could manage would be to have the item removed from my record. The Bosshole's balls would still dangle, and his asshattery would still pulse. Moreover, my anger would still suffuse the dangerous climate.

I decide I am willing to forgive him, but I want to confront him and say, "You've got some nerve, writing me up without even asking me for my side of things. Taking her side over mine! I was being loyal to the company by being cautious about taking extra certificates, and all you could do was just write me up and not even have the courage to face me while doing it!"

Instead, he avoided me the whole day as if he knew I was thinking that.

Tuesday was interesting. Moon was there, somewhere, and Barbera was saying to someone else as I was punching in, "It'll be weird, next two days without Moon or Bosshole. Nobody in charge of things."

I thought, wow, they're really cutting down on schedules.

Next week was me working nights, so I didn't see Bosshole at all. I had some really bad times, but I got through them knowing they weren't as bad as The Night of Ten Thousand Lies (by Joseph Conrad).

Today I found out Bosshole had transferred. The write-up must have been a last desperate act of revenge against me, for all the things I put him through for all he did to me in past.

But he must know, wherever he is now, that he didn't "win". He must have been told that I refused to sign his shit before he left.

It was only a verbal warning, which I didn't sign, and I can always remember this if someone in future looks at my record and asks about it. I'm not going to let it bother me any more.

I believe I referred to him as Bosshole Number Five. I wonder who the sixth one will be?

[Zoom]

Oh, I almost forgot.

When I found out the good news, it made my month, which has only just started.

I went on break, ran up the stairs two at a time, and said loudly, "Rejoice at the death of your enemies!" as if I was reading from scripture or about to tell people about Texas Radio and the Big Beat.

Only K.* was up there and getting ready to go home.

Strange, was nobody else affected pleasantly by lack of managerial orifice? It's as if nobody even knows he's gone.

Well. It's not going to make my life any darker.

*A character who hasn't appeared yet and isn't a nexus of customerial suckitude, so doesn't figure much here.

[Zoom]

"Two Scheds" Checks In

New boss is Asian, female and acting very nicely towards others (so far).

Now, I don't actually know who is/was responsible for making and/or posting the schedule to the small plastic binder on the breakroom table, but the moment BossholeTM left us, the schedule seems to have suddenly changed for the worse.

First, they started printing it up sideways. Second, they only did 7 days instead of 8, so they omitted next Sunday, which means there was one fewer day of knowing what next week's schedule was.

When I left for the day, that schedule was in the trash and the fixed one was already up, which somehow had 8 days shoehorned into the new sideways format.

Wonder who complained?

Anyway, I don't think the new boss was responsible for this mistake. Perhaps someone else pulled the schedule printing duty. But it didn't matter to me, as they haven't scheduled me for Sunday in ages.


From Outer Greenhouse?

Every single order I was checking, this particular bagger had stupid questions to ask, such as "Is this item his?" (because I rang it up about ten seconds before the rest of the order) or "Did you put a sticker on that 24-pack?" (yes, if you could remember a whole eight seconds backward in time, you may recall me putting a sticker on it) or even "Does the customer want a bag for her milk?" (NO! She did not ask for one specifically, and we are NOT supposed to ask her if she wants one!)

So I rang up two plants brought in from outside, both the same type. One was moved on the conveyor belt, while the other remained in the cart.

Right away the bagger asks, "Did you get the second plant? The, um, whatever plant it's called?"

Immediately I shot back with, "Yeah, the other one's called Plant B."


Phone Slumber

For the last few months, the life of checkers has been a living hell for many reasons, but only one of which was the "I didn't bring the savings card, can I give you my phone number?" problem.

For, we have not taken phone numbers in something like ten years.

When our "lost savings card" dilemma first surfaced, we had only ONE option available, which was to enter the social security number. Yes! I am not kidding! The only other thing anyone could do was go to the desk and reapply for the card, and their order would have to wait.

About a week after that started, the avalanche of complaints forced us to take phone numbers for a brief time, but we had to write them down on slips and also the order totals, and keep them in the drawer to enter the savings data onto the computer later.

It took about two weeks of my not complying with writing anything down before they started to see the problems with their new system, and they programmed in phone number acceptance.

Except... people were giving 123-4567 and similar frauds as numbers*. At the same time, everyone was following the example of Best Buy and refusing to give anything other than ZIP codes. This led to a lot of arguing with phrases such as, "No, we need your area code, not ZIP code." and pretending they didn't know the difference.

I shan't go into the problems we had with taking checks using phone numbers, or the use of Pay-by-TouchTM and people giving us the finger.

Once we had a store card, most of us memorized the number and just used that. I've already mentioned elsewhere how that was a huge mistake that came back to bite us with big sparkly Twilight fang marks.

(In short, the store courtesy account rang up over $2 billion, which caused our entire database to crash, nullifying any future use of the store card.)

Next up was the use of the manager's card, but that was very heavily frowned upon for nearly a week while SCs complained anew about not getting their precious savings and InhumanagementTM scrambled to get a new store card number issued.

"But," I argued with anyone who wouldn't listen anyway, "it's just recreating the same problem. Eventually the store card will be overused like last time."

"Nonsense, m'boy," said Mr. Fictional Inhumanager, "we have a new system in place. Now when you need to scan a customer's card they don't have, you can a) get the card from self-checkout, and b) direct the customer to sign up for a replacement card at the desk. Piece of fruit cake."

Of course, the fruit cake had too much fruit bat in it.

A) By being increasingly without a bagger, I would have to stop the order and walk down myself to SCO with my no-worky hand scanner to scan the card. This, as I have said many times already, caused great consternation and yet always managed to bring out a surprising amount of patience in customers.

B) Customers were unresponsive to being told they should sign up at the desk. All they had to do was say they lost the card, and we could go and scan one for them! Why should they have to go and do anything?

I steadfastly refused to learn the new number, because I wanted to inconvenience the SCs until they got mad, whereupon I could direct them to the desk. Also, I remember being told not to just learn the new number.

Last month, however, things changed. A co-worker who looks like a female Russel T. Davies had the number printed on a slip of paper and left it behind. I decided to take and use it myself until I had memorized the key combination.

Things have gone smoother as a result. But all of this is the prelude to the BIG NEW DEVELOPMENTS of this week!

"Now," reads the signs taped to the front of the keyboard so we can't read them but the customer can, "you can enter the phone number if you've lost your card! Ask the stupid associate who can't read this sign (ha ha) about this new exciting offer! Because we haven't told them about it! The idiots!"

Finally it took a customer who actually knew what this offer was about, to inform me of the details. Apparently the customer can sign onto our website and enter the phone number and savings card number to get put into the system (yet again), and when they forgot their card, just type the phone number into the PINpad.

Only... how does it TAKE the phone number? There was no new button marked "Lost Pathetica Card", and anyway if there was a new button I'd have named it "Self-Destruct".

Lots of poking later, I called the desk and sure enough, the person at the other end was running the desk. Also she didn't know what I was talking about.

Mrs. Desk: "Well, you have the customer go online and--"
Me: "Yes, well she already did that and wants to use the system."
Mrs. Desk: "She types in the phone number on the PINpad, and..."
Me: "NO! I mean, how do we activate the phone number on the-"
Mrs. Desk: "She HAS TO GO ONLINE, and then..."
Me: "Look. How do I get the PINpad to accept her number?"

FINALLY that got a response. In fact, she gave two responses. Which one of them is to enter her information into the system, and which is to actually sign in with the phone number, I have no idea. I'll get it to work eventually though.

Or maybe they'll come out with some new stupid thing and tear down our BureaucrazyTM to put up a different one.


Wiping the Rubbers

So one day I came in, and I could tell right away there were insufficient baggers for the store, because it was boiling hot in the place.

If we'd had enough help, the overstock would be done and someone would have lowered the shades on this sunny warm day.

Also, there were no spray bottles filled with glass cleaner, and no paper towels stocked (though I eventually found a couple of those).

When our sole bagger (for FOUR checkouts) rotated to my register, I asked her if she could find a spray bottle, because the register was filthy and I needed to clean it and the phone. (If the phone is filthy, I won't use it, because I got the flu once after not having the chance to clean it first. In which case, goodbye price checks!)

She vanished in the direction of the desk, and I assume she had been called to it for some reason, possibly overstockial in nature. So, I resumed grinding the ringing on the sweaty day.

Suddenly solo bagger returned, with a pile of Handi-WipesTM**.

Me: What is this?
She: I went to the desk, and they said we're out of spray bottles.
Me: I don't need this many wipes, just one. The others will get all dry before I need any more. You didn't have to bother.

But no matter what I said, she wouldn't take them back or anything, and we had to find ways to use them. I cleaned the rubber conveyor belt and phone (only used 1 wipe, like 5-6 to go), so inbetween later orders we were cleaning all sorts of things we could never have touched or gotten dirty in the first place.

There. Everything sparkly like Twilight vampires. Somehow we managed to use them all before they dried.

Next order was a SC who put 15 dirt-spilling plants on the belt.

Next order was a SC who spilled milk and cried about it.

Next order was a SC with open bags of grapes she didn't want.

Next order was a SC who had unscrewed a container of bleach so when I grabbed it to ring up, the lid came off and bleach got all over everything and smelled the place up for the next 240 years.

I couldn't wash the smell off my hands even after I got home. But at least the phone was cleaned.


Blather Control

Sometimes I like to confuse a customer because she has a pet theory or philosophy or just a motto that needs disassembly. I am the Human Monkey Wrench, and to prove it I wave my arms about a lot, especially when ringing up stuff.

She: So you're off Sunday?
Me: I can't help it, I...
She: Of course, you know Mother's Day is more important than Father's Day.
Me: Oh? How so?
She: Well, you know how there are more women than men, right?
Me: ...

A little quick thinking, since she appeared to be done espousing her theory.

Me: But, you see, there are more fathers than mothers. Or at least there are more cheating men than women, so although the men count as fathers for each time they father someone, and the women count as mothers when they have a baby, and you would wonder if that makes it more or less.
She: Huh?
Me: If there are more cheating men than cheating women...
She: Forget it. You're probably right.
Me: No, I'm not. I didn't count the fact that men are fathers as much as women are mothers. Unless the cheating men switch between different partners just often enough--
She: Stop! I give up.

In any case, I don't care which of the two days is really more important, but I do care about staving off boredom, and thanks for being the straight man, er woman, in this comedy routine.


Music Hath Charges To Soothe The Sucky Customer

Me: Oh, you have a Link card. Sorry, I'll change the price and you can re-slide it.
She: OK. Should I swipe it now?
Me: No, just slide it.
She: ???
Me: I wouldn't want you to go around swiping people's cards.
She: (lightbulb) Oh! Ha ha ha, very funny!
Me: No problem.
She: Um, should I do this as food stamps or EBT Cash?
Me: We can do either, it doesn't matter to me.
She: Well, whichever would be easier for you. I have amounts in both. Food or Cash.
Me: If it helps decide, I've never seen anyone go to a Johnny Food concert...

I think I'm becoming a sucky checker. Or are the jokes just getting silly?

*To be accurate, though, they ARE numbers.
**Like I need to put "TM" on other people's product.

[Rapscallion]

Me: But, you see, there are more fathers than mothers. Or at least there are more cheating men than women, so although the men count as fathers for each time they father someone, and the women count as mothers when they have a baby, and you would wonder if that makes it more or less.
She: Huh?
Me: If there are more cheating men than cheating women...

Nearly snorted my cereal through my nose - classic!

Rapscallion