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I can't remember the last time I posted, 'cuz most of my customers are just repeats of the same old obnoxiousness, but I've been working at another location within the company and I have NEW crazy people! So... here, have a long post about Bustice, broken up into segments for your convenience.
So you can keep it straight: Store A is in a very large mall in the capital of the state, the store where I was hired, and serves two decently-sized metropolitan areas practically on its own and is therefore very busy. Store B is the new-ish store out where I go to school, in a very mountainy area close to West Virginia and therefor does not see as much business. As I've lived near Store A my entire life, there are things about the general culture out here at Store B that I'm just not used to. Yes, that becomes relevant.
Buh whaa?
I hate my job at home, but I love my job up here. It's the same position for the same company. For the most part, my customers at Store B are just so... nice!
We aren't the website...
So because school is 3 or so hours away from home, I transfer in between stores based on what time of school year it is. For the winter break, I was at Store A.
Let me set the scene for you: It's the first week or two of January. Everyone pretty much knows this as Return Time from Hell. As far as I'm concerned, that's common knowledge. In a rare "slow" period (moderately busy, but not so busy that we have to immediately put callers on hold), the phone rings and I answer it. At this time, please note that while we can accept returns from the website, we otherwise aren't connected to them.
Me: "Bustice at <Store A location>, this is Retailsweetie, how can I help you?"
Caller, who sounds like she's 14 at most: "Hi, I ordered something from the website but I never got a confirmation number or tracking information or anything."
Me: "Okay, well, unfortunately here at the store level we don't have the information or resources to help you with that. There should be a customer service number listed on the website that you can call."
Caller: "Well, I <insert story of her order.>"
Me: "I'm sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, like I said, we really can't do anything about that because we aren't connected to the website. We can't even pull it up on our computers here. There should be a customer service number listed on the website."
Caller: "Where do I find that?"
Me: "Well, I'm not entirely sure as I don't spend much time on our website, but I'd guess that it's probably either at the very top of the page or at the very bottom when you scroll down."
Caller: "Could it be under <some link that might have contact information for the website, I guess>?"
Me: "Like I said, I'm not really sure where the contact information for the online store is, but it will probably be with the rest of the contact information. I'm sorry, I really don't know what else to tell you."
(At this point, we're starting to get busy again and I'm needed elsewhere, so I know I have to try to get it through her head that no one at the store level has the information she seeks).
Caller: "Okay, well, I just need to get my tracking information."
Me: "I'm sorry, I really don't have the number for the online store and unfortunately I don't know exactly where on the website you'd find it. We don't have your tracking information here at the store. There should be a Frequently Asked Questions section on the website, you might want to look there. I hope everything works out for you! Have a good day!"
Caller: "Um... thanks....?"
I felt bad. I really did. But I really couldn't help her.
Sizing Woes, part 1
So our target demographic is girls ages 6-14. Most girls 12 and over have already begun shopping at stores geared toward teens and young adults. Because we're a kid's/tween's store, we do our stuff in children's sizing. Usually we don't have girls switching backwards from places like Aeropostale or American Eagle to shop at Bustice. As such, we don't know the exact translation of our sizes to and from adult sizes. I don't think that's weird. We can guesstimate based on a girl's size in relation to our mannequins and coworkers (most of whom own at least one piece of Bustice clothing 'cuz we get a discount), but we don't know for sure what the exact conversion is. As far as I'm concerned, we don't need to.
So a little girl is in with her parents one day, at store A, when I'm the only one on register with a line three deep (not a big fuss for most stores, but usually that's when I'm supposed to ask for backup). I'd guess this girl was 12ish due to her amount of attitude and the fact that she wanted to know how her adult-clothing size translated to Bustice sizes, but she was also petite so for all I know she was only 10.
Little girl: *walks up to the side of the cash wrap so she's standing next to me* "Excuse me, I can't find your size 0s, and that's what I wear. I'm very tiny."
Me: *ringing up a customer* "Our sizes don't run like that, sweetie, I'm sorry." *looks at little girl* I'd say you should start with a size 10 and see how that fits, then go from there. We've got a section of that size right there. *points to the size 10 clearance rack.*
The little girl's parents then came over and led her to merchandise elsewhere in the store, reassuring her they'd find her something. Hey, at least she came up and asked me for help! Usually the girls who shop at Justice are afraid of me!
Please don't turn this into a discussion of the sizing of women's clothing and the numbers used. This exchange wasn't about that.
Sizing Woes, Part 2
At store B, Bustice has only been around since this past May. It's the first children's clothing store to occupy a space in this mall in a long time, if not the first ever. This holiday season was its first in this area, and many of the customers have therefore not shopped with our company. One older lady asked if we knew what size in our store a size <I forget> in grown-up clothes would be. I've worked for the company longer than anyone else at Store B, but as I was running a register I wasn't the first one to respond. The assistant manager said that we didn't know and didn't have that information, but that based on what one of our coworkers wore in Bustice sizes, a good place to start would be somewhere around a size 14 or 16 and that a gift receipt would be an excellent idea in case it didn't fit. Assistant Manager looked at me and asked if I knew, but I responded that we'd never been given that information because it's not really that common for people to go from adult sizes to Bustice sizes. The customer who asked thanked us for our suggestions and walked away. The customer who I was helping told me we really should have that information. I simply replied that trying on clothing even between two adult-sized stores was a trial-and-error process as sizes vary even between companies, and that a girl's height and general shape could easily change what she wore in Bustice, so even if we had that information it might not be correct. My customer still insisted that we should know anyways. I wasn't gonna argue it anymore, though, and finished her transaction.
Sizing Woes, not even my company
I think it's really great when people come in with Angel Tree or similar kinds of intentions (y'know, when people do a Secret-Santa type of thing for families in need?). And I understand that while every little girl loves Bustice, there are sometimes more durable options when it comes to things like shoes and winter coats. So a gentleman comes in and asks what size a children's 14-16 would be in a Carhart jacket. This is where my not-being-from-Store-B's-area comes in. Where I come from, the heavy jackets of choice are usually North Face. Columbia maybe, but everyone's all about North Face. Carhart is something I had literally never heard of until this gentleman asked me. I asked him to explain what that was, and he only responded with "it's a coat. Like a big winter coat." I still didn't understand, and asked how the sizes generally ran. "Small, medium, etc." was his reply. Well, at Bustice, a 14/16 is what we call a Large, so that's the response I gave him. He was kind of shocked, because I guess a large Carhart jacket is really big, but I told him that since I didn't know what a Carhart jacket is, all I could do was show him a Bustice coat in the size he wanted and he could kind of eyeball it from there. I later asked my coworkers what a Carhart jacket was, 'cuz we don't really have that where I'm from, and they did their best to explain it to me. To this day, I still don't get it, or why repeating "Carhart jacket" to me every time I said I didn't know what that was would be a good way of trying to get the correct information from me. Oh well.
A twist on a common question
A lot of people come into Bustice asking for toddler sizes or baby sizes. Or, they demand to know where we keep those sizes. We don't do sizes below a children's 6, so most of the time we just suggest a few places that they can get those clothes (I don't consider that sending someone to a competitor. They carry stuff for a completely different set of youngsters.) The other day, someone came in asking where we keep our stuff for baby boys. Bustice doesn't carry boys' clothing except in select locations (Our combination stores with our sibling company). The displays in the front are of female mannequins in bright sparkly outfits. Personally, I'm not quite sure what about that screams "baby boys."
I'm anal!
This is the literally the first time a customer has ever actually threatened to complain about me, and also the first time a customer has ever complained about me to a manager. Let me set the scene:
Bustice store B is slow most nights, especially weeknights. Most people have to come from an hour or so away just to get to us, so weeknights aren't really their prime shopping time. This normally translates into excellent customer service because we can attend to a customer's needs without too much distraction. Or, y'know, make sure the store is tidy and clean. We had a small rush, during which time I had to ask a customer to please wait until I could help her get something down from up high, because I'd be done with my customer at the register shortly. She rolled her eyes at me and tried to argue it with me, but I took the little metal stick we use to get stuff down and put it behind the register because frankly, there were unoccupied employees elsewhere in the store and I don't want to get sued if she knocks something off a shelf and onto her head. Liability and whatnot, y'know?
So I help her get down what she needs, and while she waits she sets her toddler on our cash wrap. I hate when people do this, 'cuz a cash wrap is not a particularly baby-friendly area. She then strikes up a conversation with my assistant manager, who's standing nearby, and is meanwhile not watching her kid. This kid's not much older than 2, 'cuz it's visible that he's wearing a diaper and overall just looks young. In the five minutes that the mom is talking to my AM, I have to take the following hazardous items away from this baby: a highlighter, a pen, the same highlighter, the scanner gun thing (which he shined INTO HIS EYES, a super-dangerous thing to do), and another pen. Again, I don't want to get sued for this kid getting sick, I don't want the store getting sued, so I do what I think is the smart thing and take the aforementioned toxic items away from Junior here. Mom and Junior wander away to look at more stuff, and then as Mom's getting ready to check out she walks up to the register. This kid is on a leash (don't comment about that either, please, at least not here) but Mom is just kinda making sure he doesn't go past the extent of that leash. Not even looking at him, much the same way she wasn't watching him when she sat him on our cash wrap. Near the register, we have shelves of little bath kits (y'know, the kind with lotion and body spray and shower gel. Typical stocking-stuffer types of things). Junior grabs one and starts chewing on it. While yes, the chemicals are inside the bag they come in and not in Junior's mouth themselves, that's really not something a baby should be chewing on. Also, I can't really sell that to someone if it's got baby spit all over it. So I very gently take it away from him and grab a sanitizing wipe to wipe the bag down (it's a vinyl thing, so I figure just wiping it off with a Clorox wipe would make it sell-able again.) At that point, Mom's head practically snaps to look right at me.
"Yknow, you're really anal," she says. At first, I think she's making some joke about people who are obsessed with keeping things clean. But then she continues. "I'm going to be telling <name of store manager>. Every single thing he has touched you have flipped out about and taken away from him, and I think that's a problem." Meanwhile, my AM is standing behind this woman with the most shocked expression I have ever seen. I ring the woman out as quickly as I can because I will otherwise (a) start crying or (b) start yelling at her, but I'm not exactly friendly about it. I don't say anything more than I have to, and she stands there looking all self-satisfied. As soon as she leaves the store, my AM and I start talking about it, but she says I probably won't get in trouble because another AM gets complained about on a daily basis and still has her job.
In the back of my head, I knew that I had nothing to worry about. Anyone can name-drop the store manager, especially since she's almost always there. Nevertheless, I'm shaken up about it and write my store manager a note explaining what happened and that a customer may be complaining. As it turns out, my manager could not for the life of her figure out who this lady was, and didn't see anything wrong with what I'd done. We heard nothing else about it. Until... well, until she came back in to complain about me. I was at Store A by this point, as I'd gone home for the winter break. Apparently, customer's daughter goes to school with my manager's son. Not that it mattered, 'cuz my store manager had my back. And, as it turns out, Junior grabbed a pen off the cash wrap (because once again Mom had set him up there), then grabbed some shirts and scribbled all over them. So those shirts got damaged. Pretty sure any sympathy this lady might have gotten from my manager was lost by that point.
Aaaand... there's more but I'll save that for another day. Thanks for letting me vent!
So you can keep it straight: Store A is in a very large mall in the capital of the state, the store where I was hired, and serves two decently-sized metropolitan areas practically on its own and is therefore very busy. Store B is the new-ish store out where I go to school, in a very mountainy area close to West Virginia and therefor does not see as much business. As I've lived near Store A my entire life, there are things about the general culture out here at Store B that I'm just not used to. Yes, that becomes relevant.
Buh whaa?
I hate my job at home, but I love my job up here. It's the same position for the same company. For the most part, my customers at Store B are just so... nice!
We aren't the website...
So because school is 3 or so hours away from home, I transfer in between stores based on what time of school year it is. For the winter break, I was at Store A.
Let me set the scene for you: It's the first week or two of January. Everyone pretty much knows this as Return Time from Hell. As far as I'm concerned, that's common knowledge. In a rare "slow" period (moderately busy, but not so busy that we have to immediately put callers on hold), the phone rings and I answer it. At this time, please note that while we can accept returns from the website, we otherwise aren't connected to them.
Me: "Bustice at <Store A location>, this is Retailsweetie, how can I help you?"
Caller, who sounds like she's 14 at most: "Hi, I ordered something from the website but I never got a confirmation number or tracking information or anything."
Me: "Okay, well, unfortunately here at the store level we don't have the information or resources to help you with that. There should be a customer service number listed on the website that you can call."
Caller: "Well, I <insert story of her order.>"
Me: "I'm sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, like I said, we really can't do anything about that because we aren't connected to the website. We can't even pull it up on our computers here. There should be a customer service number listed on the website."
Caller: "Where do I find that?"
Me: "Well, I'm not entirely sure as I don't spend much time on our website, but I'd guess that it's probably either at the very top of the page or at the very bottom when you scroll down."
Caller: "Could it be under <some link that might have contact information for the website, I guess>?"
Me: "Like I said, I'm not really sure where the contact information for the online store is, but it will probably be with the rest of the contact information. I'm sorry, I really don't know what else to tell you."
(At this point, we're starting to get busy again and I'm needed elsewhere, so I know I have to try to get it through her head that no one at the store level has the information she seeks).
Caller: "Okay, well, I just need to get my tracking information."
Me: "I'm sorry, I really don't have the number for the online store and unfortunately I don't know exactly where on the website you'd find it. We don't have your tracking information here at the store. There should be a Frequently Asked Questions section on the website, you might want to look there. I hope everything works out for you! Have a good day!"
Caller: "Um... thanks....?"
I felt bad. I really did. But I really couldn't help her.
Sizing Woes, part 1
So our target demographic is girls ages 6-14. Most girls 12 and over have already begun shopping at stores geared toward teens and young adults. Because we're a kid's/tween's store, we do our stuff in children's sizing. Usually we don't have girls switching backwards from places like Aeropostale or American Eagle to shop at Bustice. As such, we don't know the exact translation of our sizes to and from adult sizes. I don't think that's weird. We can guesstimate based on a girl's size in relation to our mannequins and coworkers (most of whom own at least one piece of Bustice clothing 'cuz we get a discount), but we don't know for sure what the exact conversion is. As far as I'm concerned, we don't need to.
So a little girl is in with her parents one day, at store A, when I'm the only one on register with a line three deep (not a big fuss for most stores, but usually that's when I'm supposed to ask for backup). I'd guess this girl was 12ish due to her amount of attitude and the fact that she wanted to know how her adult-clothing size translated to Bustice sizes, but she was also petite so for all I know she was only 10.
Little girl: *walks up to the side of the cash wrap so she's standing next to me* "Excuse me, I can't find your size 0s, and that's what I wear. I'm very tiny."
Me: *ringing up a customer* "Our sizes don't run like that, sweetie, I'm sorry." *looks at little girl* I'd say you should start with a size 10 and see how that fits, then go from there. We've got a section of that size right there. *points to the size 10 clearance rack.*
The little girl's parents then came over and led her to merchandise elsewhere in the store, reassuring her they'd find her something. Hey, at least she came up and asked me for help! Usually the girls who shop at Justice are afraid of me!
Please don't turn this into a discussion of the sizing of women's clothing and the numbers used. This exchange wasn't about that.
Sizing Woes, Part 2
At store B, Bustice has only been around since this past May. It's the first children's clothing store to occupy a space in this mall in a long time, if not the first ever. This holiday season was its first in this area, and many of the customers have therefore not shopped with our company. One older lady asked if we knew what size in our store a size <I forget> in grown-up clothes would be. I've worked for the company longer than anyone else at Store B, but as I was running a register I wasn't the first one to respond. The assistant manager said that we didn't know and didn't have that information, but that based on what one of our coworkers wore in Bustice sizes, a good place to start would be somewhere around a size 14 or 16 and that a gift receipt would be an excellent idea in case it didn't fit. Assistant Manager looked at me and asked if I knew, but I responded that we'd never been given that information because it's not really that common for people to go from adult sizes to Bustice sizes. The customer who asked thanked us for our suggestions and walked away. The customer who I was helping told me we really should have that information. I simply replied that trying on clothing even between two adult-sized stores was a trial-and-error process as sizes vary even between companies, and that a girl's height and general shape could easily change what she wore in Bustice, so even if we had that information it might not be correct. My customer still insisted that we should know anyways. I wasn't gonna argue it anymore, though, and finished her transaction.
Sizing Woes, not even my company
I think it's really great when people come in with Angel Tree or similar kinds of intentions (y'know, when people do a Secret-Santa type of thing for families in need?). And I understand that while every little girl loves Bustice, there are sometimes more durable options when it comes to things like shoes and winter coats. So a gentleman comes in and asks what size a children's 14-16 would be in a Carhart jacket. This is where my not-being-from-Store-B's-area comes in. Where I come from, the heavy jackets of choice are usually North Face. Columbia maybe, but everyone's all about North Face. Carhart is something I had literally never heard of until this gentleman asked me. I asked him to explain what that was, and he only responded with "it's a coat. Like a big winter coat." I still didn't understand, and asked how the sizes generally ran. "Small, medium, etc." was his reply. Well, at Bustice, a 14/16 is what we call a Large, so that's the response I gave him. He was kind of shocked, because I guess a large Carhart jacket is really big, but I told him that since I didn't know what a Carhart jacket is, all I could do was show him a Bustice coat in the size he wanted and he could kind of eyeball it from there. I later asked my coworkers what a Carhart jacket was, 'cuz we don't really have that where I'm from, and they did their best to explain it to me. To this day, I still don't get it, or why repeating "Carhart jacket" to me every time I said I didn't know what that was would be a good way of trying to get the correct information from me. Oh well.
A twist on a common question
A lot of people come into Bustice asking for toddler sizes or baby sizes. Or, they demand to know where we keep those sizes. We don't do sizes below a children's 6, so most of the time we just suggest a few places that they can get those clothes (I don't consider that sending someone to a competitor. They carry stuff for a completely different set of youngsters.) The other day, someone came in asking where we keep our stuff for baby boys. Bustice doesn't carry boys' clothing except in select locations (Our combination stores with our sibling company). The displays in the front are of female mannequins in bright sparkly outfits. Personally, I'm not quite sure what about that screams "baby boys."
I'm anal!
This is the literally the first time a customer has ever actually threatened to complain about me, and also the first time a customer has ever complained about me to a manager. Let me set the scene:
Bustice store B is slow most nights, especially weeknights. Most people have to come from an hour or so away just to get to us, so weeknights aren't really their prime shopping time. This normally translates into excellent customer service because we can attend to a customer's needs without too much distraction. Or, y'know, make sure the store is tidy and clean. We had a small rush, during which time I had to ask a customer to please wait until I could help her get something down from up high, because I'd be done with my customer at the register shortly. She rolled her eyes at me and tried to argue it with me, but I took the little metal stick we use to get stuff down and put it behind the register because frankly, there were unoccupied employees elsewhere in the store and I don't want to get sued if she knocks something off a shelf and onto her head. Liability and whatnot, y'know?
So I help her get down what she needs, and while she waits she sets her toddler on our cash wrap. I hate when people do this, 'cuz a cash wrap is not a particularly baby-friendly area. She then strikes up a conversation with my assistant manager, who's standing nearby, and is meanwhile not watching her kid. This kid's not much older than 2, 'cuz it's visible that he's wearing a diaper and overall just looks young. In the five minutes that the mom is talking to my AM, I have to take the following hazardous items away from this baby: a highlighter, a pen, the same highlighter, the scanner gun thing (which he shined INTO HIS EYES, a super-dangerous thing to do), and another pen. Again, I don't want to get sued for this kid getting sick, I don't want the store getting sued, so I do what I think is the smart thing and take the aforementioned toxic items away from Junior here. Mom and Junior wander away to look at more stuff, and then as Mom's getting ready to check out she walks up to the register. This kid is on a leash (don't comment about that either, please, at least not here) but Mom is just kinda making sure he doesn't go past the extent of that leash. Not even looking at him, much the same way she wasn't watching him when she sat him on our cash wrap. Near the register, we have shelves of little bath kits (y'know, the kind with lotion and body spray and shower gel. Typical stocking-stuffer types of things). Junior grabs one and starts chewing on it. While yes, the chemicals are inside the bag they come in and not in Junior's mouth themselves, that's really not something a baby should be chewing on. Also, I can't really sell that to someone if it's got baby spit all over it. So I very gently take it away from him and grab a sanitizing wipe to wipe the bag down (it's a vinyl thing, so I figure just wiping it off with a Clorox wipe would make it sell-able again.) At that point, Mom's head practically snaps to look right at me.
"Yknow, you're really anal," she says. At first, I think she's making some joke about people who are obsessed with keeping things clean. But then she continues. "I'm going to be telling <name of store manager>. Every single thing he has touched you have flipped out about and taken away from him, and I think that's a problem." Meanwhile, my AM is standing behind this woman with the most shocked expression I have ever seen. I ring the woman out as quickly as I can because I will otherwise (a) start crying or (b) start yelling at her, but I'm not exactly friendly about it. I don't say anything more than I have to, and she stands there looking all self-satisfied. As soon as she leaves the store, my AM and I start talking about it, but she says I probably won't get in trouble because another AM gets complained about on a daily basis and still has her job.
In the back of my head, I knew that I had nothing to worry about. Anyone can name-drop the store manager, especially since she's almost always there. Nevertheless, I'm shaken up about it and write my store manager a note explaining what happened and that a customer may be complaining. As it turns out, my manager could not for the life of her figure out who this lady was, and didn't see anything wrong with what I'd done. We heard nothing else about it. Until... well, until she came back in to complain about me. I was at Store A by this point, as I'd gone home for the winter break. Apparently, customer's daughter goes to school with my manager's son. Not that it mattered, 'cuz my store manager had my back. And, as it turns out, Junior grabbed a pen off the cash wrap (because once again Mom had set him up there), then grabbed some shirts and scribbled all over them. So those shirts got damaged. Pretty sure any sympathy this lady might have gotten from my manager was lost by that point.
Aaaand... there's more but I'll save that for another day. Thanks for letting me vent!
what a bitch. apparently the store is suppose to just roll over and let her child play with everything and destroy merchandise cos it's "offensive" to stop him and keep him safe from his own actions. 
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