I had an interesting experience closing the Store tonight. In the six weeks or so since we've started closing overnight due to the slow-motion apocalypse that has become our daily lives, I've become the point-man for handling the close more or less by default, as I work the late-evening shift five nights a week and nobody else really wants to deal with it. The Store's philosophy is that if we say we close at 10 PM, that means that 10 PM is when the last customer needs to be out the door, so at 9:30 PM I've been closing the exit door, putting a barricade in front of the entry door, and standing there to let people out while not letting anyone else in, while making overhead announcements every 5 minutes that if you aren't in line by 10 you're out the door.
At about 15 minutes to close, while I'm dealing with a woman at the door who's worried that her friend who's still shopping isn't going to get done in time, "Mr. Wayne", the Store's faithful detective and LP specialist, radios me to let me know about a customer checking out who's acting like she's got all the time in the world - she's putting her items on the belt at a rate of about one per minute, she's talking the cashier's head off with bizarre questions, she appears to be under the influence, and if she keeps up at this rate we're all going to be here all night. I call the customer service clerk and the other person working the grocery floor to come up and start loading her groceries onto the belt, but she tells them not to touch her stuff and I hear her raise her voice. I wave for the self-checkout clerk to watch the door so I can go over and deal with the matter, and I take a page from our Store Manager, who has taken a no-fricks-given approach to dealing with disrespectful/abusive customers during these times.
Me: Ma'am, the Store closes in ten minutes. We're gonna have to get you rung up right now or we're not gonna be able to serve you.
C: I don't know if I want all of it yet.
Me: Well, you need to get what you want onto the belt right now.
C: Don't fucking rush me!
Me: You don't need to curse at me, ma'am.
C: I ain't cussing! You're an idiot.
Me: We're done. I'm not going to tolerate verbal abuse of myself or my crew. You can leave now.
C: I didn't cuss at you!
Me: You just called me an idiot.
C: No I didn't!
Me: (pressing the talk button on my radio) Mr. Wayne, I'm trespassing this woman. Can I get assistance escorting her out of the building?
Mr. Wayne walked her out, without her purchase, while she continued shouting and cursing at him and I and complaining that her ride had left without her.
Once we had her off the lot and I'd closed the gate for the night, Mr. Wayne filled me in on the part of the story I didn't know; she'd been in the Store since 6:30. He'd been watching her on the cameras for most of the time since as she wandered around the aisles, put stuff in her cart, put it back, argued with another woman (who turned out to be the same woman at the door worried about her friend that I mentioned back at the beginning of the story) and generally milling around the front end. He was pretty sure that she was planning a cart-push (I.e., filling a cart up with stuff and just walking out the door with it in the hope that noone will notice) and that the other woman was her getaway driver, but once I closed both the doors she had to change her plans and wasn't clever enough to make for one of the emergency exits so she tried obfuscating at the checkout in the hopes that she could sneak some stuff out without paying for it.
Lots of people have been trying to rip off us lately - whether via petty shoplifting, trying to pass bad checks, attempted Western Union scam calls, fraudulent returns, or other meshugas. I'm just glad that I was able to foil one without even knowing I was doing it.
At about 15 minutes to close, while I'm dealing with a woman at the door who's worried that her friend who's still shopping isn't going to get done in time, "Mr. Wayne", the Store's faithful detective and LP specialist, radios me to let me know about a customer checking out who's acting like she's got all the time in the world - she's putting her items on the belt at a rate of about one per minute, she's talking the cashier's head off with bizarre questions, she appears to be under the influence, and if she keeps up at this rate we're all going to be here all night. I call the customer service clerk and the other person working the grocery floor to come up and start loading her groceries onto the belt, but she tells them not to touch her stuff and I hear her raise her voice. I wave for the self-checkout clerk to watch the door so I can go over and deal with the matter, and I take a page from our Store Manager, who has taken a no-fricks-given approach to dealing with disrespectful/abusive customers during these times.
Me: Ma'am, the Store closes in ten minutes. We're gonna have to get you rung up right now or we're not gonna be able to serve you.
C: I don't know if I want all of it yet.
Me: Well, you need to get what you want onto the belt right now.
C: Don't fucking rush me!
Me: You don't need to curse at me, ma'am.
C: I ain't cussing! You're an idiot.
Me: We're done. I'm not going to tolerate verbal abuse of myself or my crew. You can leave now.
C: I didn't cuss at you!
Me: You just called me an idiot.
C: No I didn't!
Me: (pressing the talk button on my radio) Mr. Wayne, I'm trespassing this woman. Can I get assistance escorting her out of the building?
Mr. Wayne walked her out, without her purchase, while she continued shouting and cursing at him and I and complaining that her ride had left without her.
Once we had her off the lot and I'd closed the gate for the night, Mr. Wayne filled me in on the part of the story I didn't know; she'd been in the Store since 6:30. He'd been watching her on the cameras for most of the time since as she wandered around the aisles, put stuff in her cart, put it back, argued with another woman (who turned out to be the same woman at the door worried about her friend that I mentioned back at the beginning of the story) and generally milling around the front end. He was pretty sure that she was planning a cart-push (I.e., filling a cart up with stuff and just walking out the door with it in the hope that noone will notice) and that the other woman was her getaway driver, but once I closed both the doors she had to change her plans and wasn't clever enough to make for one of the emergency exits so she tried obfuscating at the checkout in the hopes that she could sneak some stuff out without paying for it.
Lots of people have been trying to rip off us lately - whether via petty shoplifting, trying to pass bad checks, attempted Western Union scam calls, fraudulent returns, or other meshugas. I'm just glad that I was able to foil one without even knowing I was doing it.
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