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So after ditching food services because I just couldn't take it anymore, I've moved on to retail. So now instead of selling food to irate customers, I sell videos (no, we don't rent, though some people think it's fun to use us like a rental service with our return policies). Well, one of the things we sell along with videos is a magazine subscription, a not uncommon thing for people to get in the store for more reasons than one. This happened a couple of months ago.
So I'm working with the store manager, a manager in training, and another minimum-wage guy when this little kid walks in, ten years old. He approaches the counter, looks up at the store manager, R, and says, "My magazine subscription ran out, I want to renew it." He had even brought a copy of the last magazine that he got in the mail to show that it said that it was his last issue for the year unless he renewed. So R did the transaction, and after the kid left, the store emptied, he went to take a conference call. It was dead for another fifteen minutes until a hulking pile of large man pushes through the door and glares at the three of us left up front with malice in his beady little eyes. We see trouble, and I, not having a great day to begin with, go to straighten some of the shelves off to the side of the counter. The fun begins.
SC: you know.
G: manager in training
J: other guy, employee
Me: you know, again.
SC: One of you sold my kid this magazine and I want my money back!
G: I think that was our store manager, he's in a conference call right now, I'll be happy to help you sir.
SC: Well someone sold my ten year old kid this magazine and I don't like it and I want a refund! You stole his money!
G: Sir we can't really do a return on a subscription since the information has already gone through the computer to the magazine services people, you'll have to call our customer service line and they can help you out.
SC: I want my money back NOW! That's not acceptable!
J walks from behind the counter over to me and tells me he thinks this guy isn't going to leave easily. He knows how I am, how I can be, and this was an obvious summons for help. G was starting to quake under the pressure, he had never been a manager before, it was his second day training, and this man was very, very large. I tell J if he stays any longer I'll get R.
SC: Are you listening? I want my money back!
G: Sir, I told you--
SC: I have my receipt, I want the money back!
I sigh and follow J back behind the counter.
Me: Maybe I can help you.
SC: Maybe you can, I want my money back.
Me: We can't give you your money back, not out of our register right now, the information your kid provided us with has already gone through electronically, we can't really grab it back through the internet, you'll have to call customer services because we can't do anything about it.
The man was starting to get loud, sweat a little, and his face was beet red. G and J stepped back a little, watching my temper sizzle and rise. The end to a bad week and I just couldn't take it anymore. So there before my coworkers, a rather small girl squaring off against this big hulking sweaty mass of man.
SC: That's unacceptable, you guys took advantage of a ten year old boy, my son by selling him this magazine and I want my money back NOW!
Me: -snaps- Your son came in and wanted to renew his subscription so we did, ther's nothing we can do about it.
SC: I don't know anything about any magazine--
Me: No? Ask your kid, ask him about the d*** magazine he's been getting in the mail for a year now! Ask him what he brought into our store to show us when he wanted to renew it! And further more, if you don't want your dumb kid spending your money without you knowing, DON'T SEND HIM IN HERE WITHOUT A PARENT!
SC: I didn't send him in here without a parent!
Me: Then why was he in here alone? If you didn't send him in here maybe you need to keep a little bit of a closer eye on him if he's that prone to wandering off and throwing away your hard earned cash on something you somehow didn't realize has been being stuffed in your mailbox for a year. Either that kid's really sneaky or you're terribly unobservant. Here's our customer service number -writing it down- take it, call them, because you're not getting a d*** cent out of my register!
SC: I want to see your manager!
I pointed at G.
Me: He's the manager, he told you the same thing I did, leave or I'm calling the cops.
He tried for a moment to stare me down but I gave him the most evil eye a girl could possibly muster and he turned and left without another word.
The strange thing is, as hard as I laid into him when I really should have been calmer, we never got a customer complaint from him.
So I'm working with the store manager, a manager in training, and another minimum-wage guy when this little kid walks in, ten years old. He approaches the counter, looks up at the store manager, R, and says, "My magazine subscription ran out, I want to renew it." He had even brought a copy of the last magazine that he got in the mail to show that it said that it was his last issue for the year unless he renewed. So R did the transaction, and after the kid left, the store emptied, he went to take a conference call. It was dead for another fifteen minutes until a hulking pile of large man pushes through the door and glares at the three of us left up front with malice in his beady little eyes. We see trouble, and I, not having a great day to begin with, go to straighten some of the shelves off to the side of the counter. The fun begins.
SC: you know.
G: manager in training
J: other guy, employee
Me: you know, again.
SC: One of you sold my kid this magazine and I want my money back!
G: I think that was our store manager, he's in a conference call right now, I'll be happy to help you sir.
SC: Well someone sold my ten year old kid this magazine and I don't like it and I want a refund! You stole his money!
G: Sir we can't really do a return on a subscription since the information has already gone through the computer to the magazine services people, you'll have to call our customer service line and they can help you out.
SC: I want my money back NOW! That's not acceptable!
J walks from behind the counter over to me and tells me he thinks this guy isn't going to leave easily. He knows how I am, how I can be, and this was an obvious summons for help. G was starting to quake under the pressure, he had never been a manager before, it was his second day training, and this man was very, very large. I tell J if he stays any longer I'll get R.
SC: Are you listening? I want my money back!
G: Sir, I told you--
SC: I have my receipt, I want the money back!
I sigh and follow J back behind the counter.
Me: Maybe I can help you.
SC: Maybe you can, I want my money back.
Me: We can't give you your money back, not out of our register right now, the information your kid provided us with has already gone through electronically, we can't really grab it back through the internet, you'll have to call customer services because we can't do anything about it.
The man was starting to get loud, sweat a little, and his face was beet red. G and J stepped back a little, watching my temper sizzle and rise. The end to a bad week and I just couldn't take it anymore. So there before my coworkers, a rather small girl squaring off against this big hulking sweaty mass of man.
SC: That's unacceptable, you guys took advantage of a ten year old boy, my son by selling him this magazine and I want my money back NOW!
Me: -snaps- Your son came in and wanted to renew his subscription so we did, ther's nothing we can do about it.
SC: I don't know anything about any magazine--
Me: No? Ask your kid, ask him about the d*** magazine he's been getting in the mail for a year now! Ask him what he brought into our store to show us when he wanted to renew it! And further more, if you don't want your dumb kid spending your money without you knowing, DON'T SEND HIM IN HERE WITHOUT A PARENT!
SC: I didn't send him in here without a parent!
Me: Then why was he in here alone? If you didn't send him in here maybe you need to keep a little bit of a closer eye on him if he's that prone to wandering off and throwing away your hard earned cash on something you somehow didn't realize has been being stuffed in your mailbox for a year. Either that kid's really sneaky or you're terribly unobservant. Here's our customer service number -writing it down- take it, call them, because you're not getting a d*** cent out of my register!
SC: I want to see your manager!
I pointed at G.
Me: He's the manager, he told you the same thing I did, leave or I'm calling the cops.
He tried for a moment to stare me down but I gave him the most evil eye a girl could possibly muster and he turned and left without another word.
The strange thing is, as hard as I laid into him when I really should have been calmer, we never got a customer complaint from him.
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