Remember when I said I rarely get SCs?
Ugh.
Well one just left.
Woman comes marching in, calls me Sweetie (strike one) and thunders over to the lingerie.
"I need the stockings I always get. You know the ones."
strike two: assuming I can read your mind.
She peruses the stockings and says, "Where are the ones I always get?" then, to another customer in the store, "I like the other girl better, this one doesn't do her job."
strike three: talking about me like I'm not here.
"Im sorry. I don't know what you usually get."
"Well you could try serving me and finding out."
strike four: being a twat.
So I go over, try to find out what she's looking for and discover that we're out of what she wants.
"Sorry, looks like we're sold out right now."
she says she's going to look and I walk back to the computer to finish my ordering.
"Where's the dark haired girl who works here?"
"Which one?"
"Shes European. She gave me her name once before but no one else here will tell me her name."
"We aren't allowed to give our names out."
"Canadian law says you have to."
"The owners rules are that for our safety we never give our names out. If someone wants to give their name that's their choice but we're told not to."
"No. By Canadian law retailers have to give their employee names. If I'm dissastsfied with service I'm entitled to a name and you're new and your service sucks."
strikes five, six and seven: pulling the "law" garbage, assuming somene is new only because you have never seen them before and insultig me because I can't give you the names of emlployees.
While I'm helping the other customer check out she putters around the lingerie a bit more then storms out, hopefully never to be seen again.
Part of me felt like whipping out my iPhone and offering to help her look up this "law" stating retail employees are obligated to give their names and lecturing her on manners, but the part of me with a fever who just wanted her out of my face so I could go about my work just smiled, nodded, and repeated, "Im sorry you feel that way."
*sigh*
Ugh.
Well one just left.
Woman comes marching in, calls me Sweetie (strike one) and thunders over to the lingerie.
"I need the stockings I always get. You know the ones."
strike two: assuming I can read your mind.
She peruses the stockings and says, "Where are the ones I always get?" then, to another customer in the store, "I like the other girl better, this one doesn't do her job."
strike three: talking about me like I'm not here.
"Im sorry. I don't know what you usually get."
"Well you could try serving me and finding out."
strike four: being a twat.
So I go over, try to find out what she's looking for and discover that we're out of what she wants.
"Sorry, looks like we're sold out right now."
she says she's going to look and I walk back to the computer to finish my ordering.
"Where's the dark haired girl who works here?"
"Which one?"
"Shes European. She gave me her name once before but no one else here will tell me her name."
"We aren't allowed to give our names out."
"Canadian law says you have to."
"The owners rules are that for our safety we never give our names out. If someone wants to give their name that's their choice but we're told not to."
"No. By Canadian law retailers have to give their employee names. If I'm dissastsfied with service I'm entitled to a name and you're new and your service sucks."
strikes five, six and seven: pulling the "law" garbage, assuming somene is new only because you have never seen them before and insultig me because I can't give you the names of emlployees.
While I'm helping the other customer check out she putters around the lingerie a bit more then storms out, hopefully never to be seen again.
Part of me felt like whipping out my iPhone and offering to help her look up this "law" stating retail employees are obligated to give their names and lecturing her on manners, but the part of me with a fever who just wanted her out of my face so I could go about my work just smiled, nodded, and repeated, "Im sorry you feel that way."
*sigh*
Comment