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Hey, old folks! I hope you made a New Year's Resolution to die to see you often this year.
Bwahahahaha, I was almost believing that myself.
First today, I got confused for a manager, which does have its advantages, but one of them is not being lectured for ten minutes about hearing aid batteries, or more specifically us not having the particular one some crotchety old fart needs. And I was about the fourth person to be subjected to her tirade.
Lady, just listen (oh snap, you can't, your hearing aid has a dead battery!) to me when I tell you we either don't carry it or may just be sold out of it at the moment. There's no need for you to keep telling me you can't find the one you need. You already told me the first time, and the second time, and the third, so telling me a 1,523rd time isn't going to make it magically appear.
Frankly, I can see some advantages to you not being able to hear. For starters, it might shut you up.
Later I get an outside call for furniture. And....
well, I'm used to dealing with angry people over the phone and in person. You don't make it long in retail before you do. What I'm not used to, though, is a profane, screaming, Sam Kinison shout-fest like the one I ended up getting. I should've known it would be bad when I had to jerk the reciever away from my ear as soon as he started screaming.The guy calling was mad because (these are verbatim quotes) he had a raincheck for a "fucking" kitchen chair, and he'd "fucking" been waiting two "fucking" months for his "fucking" chair, and he wanted to know if we "fucking" got the "fucker" in yet.
Sadly we did, about a week ago, and I tell him so. He angrily demands to know why nobody "fucking" called him (ummm, probably because the past week has been insane for returns and it just slipped the service desk people's minds) and he'll be in Saturday to pick up his "fucking" chair. I tell him I can't hold raincheck merchandise that long, only until the store closes tonight, or one more day at most.
"I don't fucking care! You are going to hold that fucking chair for as long as I want! If you're gonna make me wait two fucking months for it you can hold it until I decide to come in!" I tell him again I can't do that. I might hold this guy's chair longer if this his vocabulary didn't exist of mostly the F word, but he's being loud and abusive, so I'm cutting him no slack.
"Don't give me any lip! I have no time for this shit! You are going to hold that god damn chair for me until I can fucking come in to pick it up!" And this is where I tell him, politely but firmly, that I'm going to hang up if he can't calm down and cut out the sailor talk.
"#@*!!%$@?#*&%√$!!*&#%@!^$%#@?*&&*!$^#@! I !#&@*#^%@*&#($&#^@%!@&####^#*@¥#*!%£&#@!%&^%$$&^^& $%#$#%%^%^$%%#$%@$$^&%%&*%%&^$%#@$@%%*&*(&(%^&&$^& #$%@#@$#$##%^%*&$$%#UI^&***)()(%^%*^!" This shouted at me while I'm still holding the reciever away from my ear. He's so loud people passing by are giving me strange looks. A short distance away, some corporate people are going through the now-deserted walk-in clinic for some reason. So I hang up on the guy.
Unsurprisingly, he calls back, and tells the service desk person I don't know what I'm doing and should be fired (okay buddy, the line to get me fired starts waaaaaaay over there...). I get called again, and I get his chair out of the back and put it at the service desk because they decide to do the hold for him anyway.
As luck would have it, some other couple purchased the exact same kitchen chair right as I was dealing with this walking Thorazine advertisement, except they wanted four of them and we only had three left after I set aside the one for Mr. Pottymouth. They ended up filling out a raincheck for that extra chair. I would've given it to them right there, but I don't have the heart to make the service desk people deal with him in person if he does show up for that chair. They already got him twice on the phone, and he was just as abusive to them as he was to me.
Five more days of work in a row, at least. I'm never gonna make it.
Bwahahahaha, I was almost believing that myself.
First today, I got confused for a manager, which does have its advantages, but one of them is not being lectured for ten minutes about hearing aid batteries, or more specifically us not having the particular one some crotchety old fart needs. And I was about the fourth person to be subjected to her tirade.
Lady, just listen (oh snap, you can't, your hearing aid has a dead battery!) to me when I tell you we either don't carry it or may just be sold out of it at the moment. There's no need for you to keep telling me you can't find the one you need. You already told me the first time, and the second time, and the third, so telling me a 1,523rd time isn't going to make it magically appear.
Frankly, I can see some advantages to you not being able to hear. For starters, it might shut you up.
Later I get an outside call for furniture. And....
well, I'm used to dealing with angry people over the phone and in person. You don't make it long in retail before you do. What I'm not used to, though, is a profane, screaming, Sam Kinison shout-fest like the one I ended up getting. I should've known it would be bad when I had to jerk the reciever away from my ear as soon as he started screaming.The guy calling was mad because (these are verbatim quotes) he had a raincheck for a "fucking" kitchen chair, and he'd "fucking" been waiting two "fucking" months for his "fucking" chair, and he wanted to know if we "fucking" got the "fucker" in yet.
Sadly we did, about a week ago, and I tell him so. He angrily demands to know why nobody "fucking" called him (ummm, probably because the past week has been insane for returns and it just slipped the service desk people's minds) and he'll be in Saturday to pick up his "fucking" chair. I tell him I can't hold raincheck merchandise that long, only until the store closes tonight, or one more day at most.
"I don't fucking care! You are going to hold that fucking chair for as long as I want! If you're gonna make me wait two fucking months for it you can hold it until I decide to come in!" I tell him again I can't do that. I might hold this guy's chair longer if this his vocabulary didn't exist of mostly the F word, but he's being loud and abusive, so I'm cutting him no slack.
"Don't give me any lip! I have no time for this shit! You are going to hold that god damn chair for me until I can fucking come in to pick it up!" And this is where I tell him, politely but firmly, that I'm going to hang up if he can't calm down and cut out the sailor talk.
"#@*!!%$@?#*&%√$!!*&#%@!^$%#@?*&&*!$^#@! I !#&@*#^%@*&#($&#^@%!@&####^#*@¥#*!%£&#@!%&^%$$&^^& $%#$#%%^%^$%%#$%@$$^&%%&*%%&^$%#@$@%%*&*(&(%^&&$^& #$%@#@$#$##%^%*&$$%#UI^&***)()(%^%*^!" This shouted at me while I'm still holding the reciever away from my ear. He's so loud people passing by are giving me strange looks. A short distance away, some corporate people are going through the now-deserted walk-in clinic for some reason. So I hang up on the guy.
Unsurprisingly, he calls back, and tells the service desk person I don't know what I'm doing and should be fired (okay buddy, the line to get me fired starts waaaaaaay over there...). I get called again, and I get his chair out of the back and put it at the service desk because they decide to do the hold for him anyway.
As luck would have it, some other couple purchased the exact same kitchen chair right as I was dealing with this walking Thorazine advertisement, except they wanted four of them and we only had three left after I set aside the one for Mr. Pottymouth. They ended up filling out a raincheck for that extra chair. I would've given it to them right there, but I don't have the heart to make the service desk people deal with him in person if he does show up for that chair. They already got him twice on the phone, and he was just as abusive to them as he was to me.
Five more days of work in a row, at least. I'm never gonna make it.
Here, have a beer 
and some cookies.
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