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Everyone has that one story of the customer from the 9th circle of hell. You get sucky customers pretty regularly, but once you compare it to that bottom-of-the-barrel benchmark, you suddenly feel better. "Well, it was better than X" you would say.
Here's mine. She has every sucky customer type ever: EW, pretentious, bitch, abusive, cheap, better-than-lowly-drugstore-clerk mentality, sadistic, and downright rotten. Think Matilda's mother has a baby with Voldemort and you've just pictured only half of her rottenness. I only dealt with her several times in my two year tenure at CVS, and the first time was by far the worst, simply because I wasn't prepared for what was to come.
Background
10 years ago, CVS at a shopping mall, it's evening and a pretty slow day. I was called to the front because the supervisor who was working the registers had to start closing and counting the unused ones so we could get out at a decent time. Supervisor, by the way, was among the sweetest people I ever met, God rest her soul.
You put those products there on purpose just to yell at me, didn't you?
There were two customers in line, and the supervisor logged out of that register so I could log in. As I scanned her stuff, I reached over to scan more items that were in front of this lady on the counter when I heard a nasty voice from behind her, "HEY! What are you DOING? those are MY items."
The tone was unmistakable: She was pissed because I was supposed to assume she put her items on the counter before it was her turn, even though I had just arrived at the counter and didn't see her do that. But, being the "customer service representative" that I was, I simply stated, "I'm sorry." I saw her mutter expletives under her breath while giving me a cat butt face, at which point I said, again, "I'm sorry, I didn't know they were yours."
"You're supposed to ASK!" was her retort. Apparently, I'm supposed to ask whose items are whose before I ever begin scanning, according to her backwards rules. You know, because every customer places their purchases on the counter when they're second in line. Remember, this is a drugstore, not a supermarket or a Walmart, we don't have belts and we certainly don't have those separator things. The woman I was ringing out in front of her gave me this look of sympathy and confusion, as I finished that transaction. I could see in her face she was wishing me the best of luck and hoped I'd survive the next customer. I gave her back a look that I acknowledged and thanked her for her pity, and if she was at all religious, to please pray for me. Funny how merely a facial expression could communicate that.
The customer in front of her took her bags and left, leaving behind the rotten-to-the-core customer I had no choice but to scan, still with her cat-butt face and scowl that could have turned me to stone.
She sauntered up to the counter in that Paris Hilton-esque pose that looked like she held an invisible leash to a pocket dog. You know that pose I'm talking about. The kind of pose that one uses to keep all the stars and planets in the universe in orbit around her.
Who's next in line? Let's get a good look at you.
Describing her looks is difficult. I don't think there was an ounce of carbon-based material in sight. It looked like she had a face lift with tear-duct removal, bleached white hair, failed attempts at wrinkle removal and boobs that looked as fake as Barbie, and she could have possibly been Snooki's mother judging by the spray tan all over her. She had the most slutty-looking painted nails, and her figure would make Kiera Knightly say, "Man, lady, you gotta get some fat on you before you die of malnutrition. I hope the doctor could give you back some of the fat from your last liposuction." I'd say her true age was probably 45, but she obviously did everything medically possible to look 25, but instead it made her look 65. She could be the poster child for anyone mistakenly thinking of getting cosmetic surgery to "look better" because she was the ugliest cosmetic surgery patient I had ever seen.
Let's play a game. It's called, "Ask me about everything!" If you lose, I'll slap you.
As she was putting the remainder of her items on the counter, I carefully reached over to grab the items she had pre-placed. I failed again. She literally slapped my hand as if I was a child and shouted, "HEY! You're supposed to ask! I have my card!"
She shoved an Extra Care Card in my face which I, again, was denied when I tried to grab it. "You're not getting the card until you ask me if I have it!"
This was starting to feel like some kind of twisted S&M role-playing sex game, where I was obviously the subservient and she was the dominatrix. I asked, "Do you have your Extra care Card?"
"Why, yes I do," In the most ingenuinely pleasant voice, which suddenly turned into bitch again, "Was that so hard?!"
I hadn't even started scanning her items and she was already really pushing me towards the edge. I didn't have much left before I could be pushed over the cliff into berserk mode.
"Okay, may I begin scanning your items now?" She hit the point home that she wanted me to ask before I began every step.
"Of course!" was her response. She starts muttering more explatives under her breath again.
Cheap and slow are two bad qualities for a demon SC
As I scanned her items, she continuously asked me in the most rude way to slow down because she wanted to see the prices as they went through. "Slow down... SLOW DOWN JESUS CHRIST, I want to make sure these prices are right! Why are those cotton balls $1.20? They are supposed to be $.99 with the extra care card!"
I advised her that the price was for the generic store brand and not the brand name. "Well, that's stupid. You did that on purpose just so I got confused, didn't you?"
Wait, me? The lowly cashier in the goofy red apron did this to you? "I apologize if it was unclear, but the sign did say--"
"I don't care what the sign says. Ugh, just get me the other cotton balls!"
I grumble as I leave the counter and go into the makeup aisle to bring her the other ones. I come back, void out the ones she had, scan the other ones, and thank God it scanned at $.99.
Our bags rip quite easily, but not this easily, lady
Her first bag had tissues, cotton balls, and a bottle of Tylenol. I took the bag off the rack and put it on the counter.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!!" she screamed. I'm left guessing as to what freaked her out this time. I gave up.
"Excuse me?"
"I told you I wanted this double-bagged. Don't you listen?"
I don't think it's physically possible not to ignore her bitchy, screetchy voice. There's no way I missed that. Hellen Keller would have been able to catch that request if she was behind the counter. Nevertheless, I put the bag in another bag, left wondering why in the world cotton balls, kleenex, and Tylenol warranted double bagged items.
"In case you missed it, I want everything double-bagged. Got it?"
"Yes."
"What did I just say? I want to be sure you understand." she said in the most insulting and condescending tone imaginable.
"You want everything double bagged." I said with the most unenthusiastic voice.
"Good. Now get moving."
I was tettering on the edge. I felt like it wouldn't take much more to make me pull this asswipe over the counter and show her that treating other people this way could result in injury or death. The only thing that prevented me was the chance that whatever plastic she had in her face would shatter into a million pieces and I'd have to clean it up afterwards.
I continued to scan her items, unconsciously moving faster and faster only to be told, "I SAID SLOW DOWN. I CAN'T READ THE PRICES!!!"
The end is in sight!
Finally, I get to the last item and hit subtotal. I nearly had a grin on my face because I knew the end was in sight. I told her the final total, "$79.89, please."
"YOU'RE NOT DONE YET!!!" She screamed. She said nothing more, leaving me to figure out what I missed. Had she ordered cigarettes? Was there some invisible box on the counter? Was she expecting me to wipe her ass? What was I missing? The counter was bare. Knowing she wouldn't even be so kind as to tell me what I had to do, I finally asked, "What else would you like?" in the minimally sincere tone expected of us in corporate. She finally pointed to the left. I look over and see, next to the other register about a dozen or so more items which she must have also placed on the counter minutes ago prior to me arriving.
As I, without her help of course, move the items from that counter over to my register she asked me, "You're new here, aren't you? You just couldn't possibly know this little about how to do your job, right?"
I had been at CVS for a year at this time, definitely not a newbie. But, at the risk of continuing this conversation I just said, "Yeah, I'm new." She said, "Pfft, figures."
The end is in sight... for real this time!
I scan her items at the rate she demanded, challenged me on a few more prices, and after I finally resolved each of her complaints, gave her the price. Knowing that she wanted me to not assume anything when she handed me her credit card, I asked her, "Do you want it all on this card?"
She gave me a paternizing smile and said, "Wow, you might be new here, but you're at least learning! I want $30 on this card, and the rest on the next card."
I was glad I at least dodged that nasty bullet, since if I had charged her card for the full price it would be a disaster of epic proportions to have to undo her charge, and redo the whole transaction with two cards, all because I didn't ask her ahead of time.
Thankfully (Haleluia!) her credit cards were accepted, although I was concerned that her prior shitty expensive surgeries would have put her in the "Very High Risk" credit rating. I asked her if she needed anything else, and she said, "No. Goodbye."
In my most insincere tone, I wished her a plesant night, paged the supervisor down just so I could vent and talk about my transaction with the worst customer I had ever dealt with.
I would deal with her a few more times, but because I knew what she demanded, they weren't nearly as troublesome, although she always targetted me, like I was some kind of slave to her. If there were three clerks at the register, she'd always make sure she got me, probably because back then I was such a pushover and didn't tell her how I'd truly feel like some of the other clerks would (and subsequently get fired for). And, yes, every single time, she expected everything to be double-bagged.
I learned later that she was, in fact, a retail worker at a jewelry store in the same mall. Just another example of that counterintuitive fallacy: Just because you work in retail doesn't mean you're incapable of being a sucky customer at the same time.
Here's mine. She has every sucky customer type ever: EW, pretentious, bitch, abusive, cheap, better-than-lowly-drugstore-clerk mentality, sadistic, and downright rotten. Think Matilda's mother has a baby with Voldemort and you've just pictured only half of her rottenness. I only dealt with her several times in my two year tenure at CVS, and the first time was by far the worst, simply because I wasn't prepared for what was to come.
Background
10 years ago, CVS at a shopping mall, it's evening and a pretty slow day. I was called to the front because the supervisor who was working the registers had to start closing and counting the unused ones so we could get out at a decent time. Supervisor, by the way, was among the sweetest people I ever met, God rest her soul.
You put those products there on purpose just to yell at me, didn't you?
There were two customers in line, and the supervisor logged out of that register so I could log in. As I scanned her stuff, I reached over to scan more items that were in front of this lady on the counter when I heard a nasty voice from behind her, "HEY! What are you DOING? those are MY items."
The tone was unmistakable: She was pissed because I was supposed to assume she put her items on the counter before it was her turn, even though I had just arrived at the counter and didn't see her do that. But, being the "customer service representative" that I was, I simply stated, "I'm sorry." I saw her mutter expletives under her breath while giving me a cat butt face, at which point I said, again, "I'm sorry, I didn't know they were yours."
"You're supposed to ASK!" was her retort. Apparently, I'm supposed to ask whose items are whose before I ever begin scanning, according to her backwards rules. You know, because every customer places their purchases on the counter when they're second in line. Remember, this is a drugstore, not a supermarket or a Walmart, we don't have belts and we certainly don't have those separator things. The woman I was ringing out in front of her gave me this look of sympathy and confusion, as I finished that transaction. I could see in her face she was wishing me the best of luck and hoped I'd survive the next customer. I gave her back a look that I acknowledged and thanked her for her pity, and if she was at all religious, to please pray for me. Funny how merely a facial expression could communicate that.
The customer in front of her took her bags and left, leaving behind the rotten-to-the-core customer I had no choice but to scan, still with her cat-butt face and scowl that could have turned me to stone.
She sauntered up to the counter in that Paris Hilton-esque pose that looked like she held an invisible leash to a pocket dog. You know that pose I'm talking about. The kind of pose that one uses to keep all the stars and planets in the universe in orbit around her.
Who's next in line? Let's get a good look at you.
Describing her looks is difficult. I don't think there was an ounce of carbon-based material in sight. It looked like she had a face lift with tear-duct removal, bleached white hair, failed attempts at wrinkle removal and boobs that looked as fake as Barbie, and she could have possibly been Snooki's mother judging by the spray tan all over her. She had the most slutty-looking painted nails, and her figure would make Kiera Knightly say, "Man, lady, you gotta get some fat on you before you die of malnutrition. I hope the doctor could give you back some of the fat from your last liposuction." I'd say her true age was probably 45, but she obviously did everything medically possible to look 25, but instead it made her look 65. She could be the poster child for anyone mistakenly thinking of getting cosmetic surgery to "look better" because she was the ugliest cosmetic surgery patient I had ever seen.
Let's play a game. It's called, "Ask me about everything!" If you lose, I'll slap you.
As she was putting the remainder of her items on the counter, I carefully reached over to grab the items she had pre-placed. I failed again. She literally slapped my hand as if I was a child and shouted, "HEY! You're supposed to ask! I have my card!"
She shoved an Extra Care Card in my face which I, again, was denied when I tried to grab it. "You're not getting the card until you ask me if I have it!"
This was starting to feel like some kind of twisted S&M role-playing sex game, where I was obviously the subservient and she was the dominatrix. I asked, "Do you have your Extra care Card?"
"Why, yes I do," In the most ingenuinely pleasant voice, which suddenly turned into bitch again, "Was that so hard?!"
I hadn't even started scanning her items and she was already really pushing me towards the edge. I didn't have much left before I could be pushed over the cliff into berserk mode.
"Okay, may I begin scanning your items now?" She hit the point home that she wanted me to ask before I began every step.
"Of course!" was her response. She starts muttering more explatives under her breath again.
Cheap and slow are two bad qualities for a demon SC
As I scanned her items, she continuously asked me in the most rude way to slow down because she wanted to see the prices as they went through. "Slow down... SLOW DOWN JESUS CHRIST, I want to make sure these prices are right! Why are those cotton balls $1.20? They are supposed to be $.99 with the extra care card!"
I advised her that the price was for the generic store brand and not the brand name. "Well, that's stupid. You did that on purpose just so I got confused, didn't you?"
Wait, me? The lowly cashier in the goofy red apron did this to you? "I apologize if it was unclear, but the sign did say--"
"I don't care what the sign says. Ugh, just get me the other cotton balls!"
I grumble as I leave the counter and go into the makeup aisle to bring her the other ones. I come back, void out the ones she had, scan the other ones, and thank God it scanned at $.99.
Our bags rip quite easily, but not this easily, lady
Her first bag had tissues, cotton balls, and a bottle of Tylenol. I took the bag off the rack and put it on the counter.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!!" she screamed. I'm left guessing as to what freaked her out this time. I gave up.
"Excuse me?"
"I told you I wanted this double-bagged. Don't you listen?"
I don't think it's physically possible not to ignore her bitchy, screetchy voice. There's no way I missed that. Hellen Keller would have been able to catch that request if she was behind the counter. Nevertheless, I put the bag in another bag, left wondering why in the world cotton balls, kleenex, and Tylenol warranted double bagged items.
"In case you missed it, I want everything double-bagged. Got it?"
"Yes."
"What did I just say? I want to be sure you understand." she said in the most insulting and condescending tone imaginable.
"You want everything double bagged." I said with the most unenthusiastic voice.
"Good. Now get moving."
I was tettering on the edge. I felt like it wouldn't take much more to make me pull this asswipe over the counter and show her that treating other people this way could result in injury or death. The only thing that prevented me was the chance that whatever plastic she had in her face would shatter into a million pieces and I'd have to clean it up afterwards.
I continued to scan her items, unconsciously moving faster and faster only to be told, "I SAID SLOW DOWN. I CAN'T READ THE PRICES!!!"
The end is in sight!
Finally, I get to the last item and hit subtotal. I nearly had a grin on my face because I knew the end was in sight. I told her the final total, "$79.89, please."
"YOU'RE NOT DONE YET!!!" She screamed. She said nothing more, leaving me to figure out what I missed. Had she ordered cigarettes? Was there some invisible box on the counter? Was she expecting me to wipe her ass? What was I missing? The counter was bare. Knowing she wouldn't even be so kind as to tell me what I had to do, I finally asked, "What else would you like?" in the minimally sincere tone expected of us in corporate. She finally pointed to the left. I look over and see, next to the other register about a dozen or so more items which she must have also placed on the counter minutes ago prior to me arriving.
As I, without her help of course, move the items from that counter over to my register she asked me, "You're new here, aren't you? You just couldn't possibly know this little about how to do your job, right?"
I had been at CVS for a year at this time, definitely not a newbie. But, at the risk of continuing this conversation I just said, "Yeah, I'm new." She said, "Pfft, figures."
The end is in sight... for real this time!
I scan her items at the rate she demanded, challenged me on a few more prices, and after I finally resolved each of her complaints, gave her the price. Knowing that she wanted me to not assume anything when she handed me her credit card, I asked her, "Do you want it all on this card?"
She gave me a paternizing smile and said, "Wow, you might be new here, but you're at least learning! I want $30 on this card, and the rest on the next card."
I was glad I at least dodged that nasty bullet, since if I had charged her card for the full price it would be a disaster of epic proportions to have to undo her charge, and redo the whole transaction with two cards, all because I didn't ask her ahead of time.
Thankfully (Haleluia!) her credit cards were accepted, although I was concerned that her prior shitty expensive surgeries would have put her in the "Very High Risk" credit rating. I asked her if she needed anything else, and she said, "No. Goodbye."
In my most insincere tone, I wished her a plesant night, paged the supervisor down just so I could vent and talk about my transaction with the worst customer I had ever dealt with.
I would deal with her a few more times, but because I knew what she demanded, they weren't nearly as troublesome, although she always targetted me, like I was some kind of slave to her. If there were three clerks at the register, she'd always make sure she got me, probably because back then I was such a pushover and didn't tell her how I'd truly feel like some of the other clerks would (and subsequently get fired for). And, yes, every single time, she expected everything to be double-bagged.
I learned later that she was, in fact, a retail worker at a jewelry store in the same mall. Just another example of that counterintuitive fallacy: Just because you work in retail doesn't mean you're incapable of being a sucky customer at the same time.
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