Tweet
Heyas, long time lurker. (Like THAT hasn't been said before...go go preggy brain for it's wonderful drain on creativity. :P ) Of course, I've finally decided to make a post out of fond memories of some of the suckier SCs I've run into.
It's RED!!! And RECTANGULAR!!
At the mall bookstore where I used to work at, we had this lovely part of our company's website that showed us books that had been on TV recently, and even some that would be shown in the future. It was a HUGE help sometimes...but then again of course some people just have to be...special. One day....I get a phone call...
SC: “Hi, I saw this book on television and I was hoping you’d have it in stock…”
Seraph: “Why sure, ma’am. Just if you can give me some more details, I will look it up in our computer.”
SC: “Well it was on Oprah recently, and it was a red book. And it had an award for it or something.”
-- I check through our database of books that were recently shown on TV…nothing comes up that remotely fits that description.
Seraph: “Ma’am, I’m not seeing anything on our computer. Our company gets a list of books that are on television recently, and I can’t seem to find it. May I ask when you saw the particular episode?”
SC: “Yeah, it was about five…maybe six-ish…years ago. Come on, do your f***ing job. I already told you it was red! Find it already!”
Seraph: “Um, I’m sorry ma’am, but this only lists books that were shown within the past two to three months. I can do a normal search if you can give me any other details, such as the author or genre–”
SC: “**** you! It’s RED! It’s rectangular! DO YOUR JOB AND FIND IT FOR ME OR I’LL HAVE YOU FIRED! YOU’LL NEVER WORK IN THIS TOWN AGAIN!”
At this point I just stop talking and handed the phone to the manager on duty. I could hear the woman still frothing at the mouth, even as I walked quickly away from the phone! From what I hear, of course we never figured out what it was, but she hung up eventually screaming all the while she’d have our store torn down for being such incompetent people. Right...have fun trying that, crazy SC!
What do you mean, I have to pay for it?!
One of the scarier SCs I've run into. I was sitting at the front desk, calling up customers to let them know their book orders had come in, when I notice this tall, greasy guy come in. As per conditioning---er, I mean employee training, I immediately stop my work and cheerfully greet him.
Seraph: Hi, welcome to <bookstore>, is there anything I can help you with today?
Greasy SC: Yeah yeah...whatever. Where's your porn?
Seraph:
Um, well...uh...if you mean...um...some magazines are right there... (points to the upper corner of the magazine case, where all the 'special' magazines are kept, wrapped in plastic that is all nice and blacked out)
Greasy SC: <pervy grin> Thanks, doll.
I immediately get the "oh no this is going to be BAD feeling...but just say 'you're welcome' and go back to calling in orders. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him grab a few off the top...and then proceed to rip the plastic off the magazines. Uh, NO.
Seraph: Sir? You are supposed to pay for those first before you remove the plastic! Here, hand them to me, and I'll ring them up to you since you
've already taken it off.
Greasy SC: <growls> F*** off, doll. I don't wanna buy them, just...look and remember. You know? Now, go mind your own business, and NOW.
Seraph: Sir, I'm sorry, but it's our store AND company policy. You've opened the plastic coverings, you have to pay for them. Please, hand them here, and I'll ring them up for you right away.
Greasy SC immediately explodes into cursing and yelling that he will NOT pay for them, and that I'm an idiot, and calls me several words that at the time I did not even know what they meant. I know now, and by god if I had known then I would've IMMEDIATELY called security. As it was, I attempted to calm him down, and then tried to get the assistant manager on duty. AM tries to talk to him, and the guy simply continues to scream and curse, culminating in throwing the magazines on the floor and storming out. AM looks at me, asks if I'm okay, and when I confirm I am...they go back to the back room to finish what they were working on.
...Guess who makes a reappearance a few minutes later? No second guesses either.
Greasy SC is STILL cursing and screaming, and literally now has driblets of drool flying everywhere as he yells. He turns and looks at me, and yells something about me making his day a piece of s***, and that he's gonna teach me. I was so freaked I literally vaulted over several crates of books to get out of the way and to get further back into the store. I'm scared out of my wits end, and I swear I nearly fell over with relief when I saw two of the mall cops running towards the guy. (They weren't your normal rent-a-mall-cop....these guys looked like they'd been stolen from the effing MARINES) Greasy Raving SC takes off for the exit, running like mad.
From what I heard later, turns out the guy jumped into a car outside, and tried to speed out of the lot, only to hit some poor lady's car. The police of course got him at that point, and they said he was not only drunk, but high on some wacko meds as well. Never have I been so scared before by an SC...
I swear, I'm eighteen!
Not totally the worst SC I've dealt with, but it still makes me chuckle to remember this.
'Twas a slow night, and I had my back turned to the counter for a minute when all of a sudden I hear the quiet plop of a mag on the counter. I turn around, and see this young boy...couldn't have been more than 13 years old. If that. In the high pitched voice of One Who Has Not Yet Been Visited By The Puberty Fairy, he wishes me a good evening, and would I kindly hurry with his purchase, as he had to be somewhere soon. I look down...it's a Playboy magazine.
Seraph: Sorry, but I'd need to see some ID.
Young Wannabe SC: <pats down his pants> Oh, I'm sorry...I seem to have left it in my wallet.....that's out in the car. Would you mind not worrying about that for just this one time?
Seraph: (giggling madly inside my head) Well, unfortunately I cannot do that. This magazine requires I see your ID if your age is a bit....questionable. If you cannot show me an ID, then I cannot sell it to you. (I picked up the magazine, and slid it under the counter)
Young Wannabe SC: But, I swear to you that I am more than 18 years old..I just left my ID in the car! Look, my girlfriend would even vouch for me...
Seraph: Sorry, no ID, no Playboy.
Young Wannabe SC: Okay, listen, b****. I told you I left my ID in the car. I don't feel like walking out to get it, and I want this NOW. Ring it up.
Seraph: (glare of death) Look, kid. This is not the night to try and pull this on me. I don't know WHY you think I might be daft enough to fall for your con, but I can DARN WELL tell that you're most definitely not 18. So, I tell you what. We'll make a bargain. You quit trying to fling around curse words like they'll make you those few extra years older, and quit bothering me while I'm trying to work...and I won't call the mall security to come get you and get ahold of your parents.
Young Wannabe SC: <stammering like crazy> Um...well...erm...sorry. I apologize for taking up your time! Have a good night!
He took off running out of the store. Of course, I never did see that ID...or the girlfriend who would vouch for him.
It's RED!!! And RECTANGULAR!!
At the mall bookstore where I used to work at, we had this lovely part of our company's website that showed us books that had been on TV recently, and even some that would be shown in the future. It was a HUGE help sometimes...but then again of course some people just have to be...special. One day....I get a phone call...
SC: “Hi, I saw this book on television and I was hoping you’d have it in stock…”
Seraph: “Why sure, ma’am. Just if you can give me some more details, I will look it up in our computer.”
SC: “Well it was on Oprah recently, and it was a red book. And it had an award for it or something.”
-- I check through our database of books that were recently shown on TV…nothing comes up that remotely fits that description.
Seraph: “Ma’am, I’m not seeing anything on our computer. Our company gets a list of books that are on television recently, and I can’t seem to find it. May I ask when you saw the particular episode?”
SC: “Yeah, it was about five…maybe six-ish…years ago. Come on, do your f***ing job. I already told you it was red! Find it already!”
Seraph: “Um, I’m sorry ma’am, but this only lists books that were shown within the past two to three months. I can do a normal search if you can give me any other details, such as the author or genre–”
SC: “**** you! It’s RED! It’s rectangular! DO YOUR JOB AND FIND IT FOR ME OR I’LL HAVE YOU FIRED! YOU’LL NEVER WORK IN THIS TOWN AGAIN!”
At this point I just stop talking and handed the phone to the manager on duty. I could hear the woman still frothing at the mouth, even as I walked quickly away from the phone! From what I hear, of course we never figured out what it was, but she hung up eventually screaming all the while she’d have our store torn down for being such incompetent people. Right...have fun trying that, crazy SC!
What do you mean, I have to pay for it?!
One of the scarier SCs I've run into. I was sitting at the front desk, calling up customers to let them know their book orders had come in, when I notice this tall, greasy guy come in. As per conditioning---er, I mean employee training, I immediately stop my work and cheerfully greet him.
Seraph: Hi, welcome to <bookstore>, is there anything I can help you with today?
Greasy SC: Yeah yeah...whatever. Where's your porn?
Seraph:
Um, well...uh...if you mean...um...some magazines are right there... (points to the upper corner of the magazine case, where all the 'special' magazines are kept, wrapped in plastic that is all nice and blacked out)Greasy SC: <pervy grin> Thanks, doll.
I immediately get the "oh no this is going to be BAD feeling...but just say 'you're welcome' and go back to calling in orders. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him grab a few off the top...and then proceed to rip the plastic off the magazines. Uh, NO.
Seraph: Sir? You are supposed to pay for those first before you remove the plastic! Here, hand them to me, and I'll ring them up to you since you
've already taken it off.
Greasy SC: <growls> F*** off, doll. I don't wanna buy them, just...look and remember. You know? Now, go mind your own business, and NOW.
Seraph:
Sir, I'm sorry, but it's our store AND company policy. You've opened the plastic coverings, you have to pay for them. Please, hand them here, and I'll ring them up for you right away.Greasy SC immediately explodes into cursing and yelling that he will NOT pay for them, and that I'm an idiot, and calls me several words that at the time I did not even know what they meant. I know now, and by god if I had known then I would've IMMEDIATELY called security. As it was, I attempted to calm him down, and then tried to get the assistant manager on duty. AM tries to talk to him, and the guy simply continues to scream and curse, culminating in throwing the magazines on the floor and storming out. AM looks at me, asks if I'm okay, and when I confirm I am...they go back to the back room to finish what they were working on.
...Guess who makes a reappearance a few minutes later? No second guesses either.
Greasy SC is STILL cursing and screaming, and literally now has driblets of drool flying everywhere as he yells. He turns and looks at me, and yells something about me making his day a piece of s***, and that he's gonna teach me. I was so freaked I literally vaulted over several crates of books to get out of the way and to get further back into the store. I'm scared out of my wits end, and I swear I nearly fell over with relief when I saw two of the mall cops running towards the guy. (They weren't your normal rent-a-mall-cop....these guys looked like they'd been stolen from the effing MARINES) Greasy Raving SC takes off for the exit, running like mad.
From what I heard later, turns out the guy jumped into a car outside, and tried to speed out of the lot, only to hit some poor lady's car. The police of course got him at that point, and they said he was not only drunk, but high on some wacko meds as well. Never have I been so scared before by an SC...
I swear, I'm eighteen!
Not totally the worst SC I've dealt with, but it still makes me chuckle to remember this.
'Twas a slow night, and I had my back turned to the counter for a minute when all of a sudden I hear the quiet plop of a mag on the counter. I turn around, and see this young boy...couldn't have been more than 13 years old. If that. In the high pitched voice of One Who Has Not Yet Been Visited By The Puberty Fairy, he wishes me a good evening, and would I kindly hurry with his purchase, as he had to be somewhere soon. I look down...it's a Playboy magazine.
Seraph: Sorry, but I'd need to see some ID.
Young Wannabe SC: <pats down his pants> Oh, I'm sorry...I seem to have left it in my wallet.....that's out in the car. Would you mind not worrying about that for just this one time?
Seraph: (giggling madly inside my head) Well, unfortunately I cannot do that. This magazine requires I see your ID if your age is a bit....questionable. If you cannot show me an ID, then I cannot sell it to you. (I picked up the magazine, and slid it under the counter)
Young Wannabe SC: But, I swear to you that I am more than 18 years old..I just left my ID in the car! Look, my girlfriend would even vouch for me...
Seraph: Sorry, no ID, no Playboy.
Young Wannabe SC: Okay, listen, b****. I told you I left my ID in the car. I don't feel like walking out to get it, and I want this NOW. Ring it up.
Seraph: (glare of death) Look, kid. This is not the night to try and pull this on me. I don't know WHY you think I might be daft enough to fall for your con, but I can DARN WELL tell that you're most definitely not 18. So, I tell you what. We'll make a bargain. You quit trying to fling around curse words like they'll make you those few extra years older, and quit bothering me while I'm trying to work...and I won't call the mall security to come get you and get ahold of your parents.
Young Wannabe SC: <stammering like crazy> Um...well...erm...sorry. I apologize for taking up your time! Have a good night!
He took off running out of the store. Of course, I never did see that ID...or the girlfriend who would vouch for him.
Comment