<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317</id><updated>2024-10-02T06:55:19.340-07:00</updated><category term="moments"/><category term="rant"/><category term="dumb questions"/><category term="weird"/><category term="memorable customers"/><category term="random"/><category term="slammed"/><title type='text'>Alaskan Tourists!$@#</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-2488131164349277758</id><published>2009-04-24T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T18:20:49.821-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rant"/><title type='text'>Have you Tasted this?</title><content type='html'>One thing that drives me crazy is getting asked about the merchandise. For some of the items, I know quite a bit about them. And it is fine if I get asked questions. When the questions keep coming after I have declared that I do not know the first answer...I probably don&#39;t know the next ones. &quot;No, I do not know what it is made of.&quot; &quot;Probably made in China.&quot; &quot;Nope, haven&#39;t tried it.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not have access to taste testing each food product we sell. I have to purchase those, and I am on a limited income. I am not the manufacturer, and do not know any more than you do what is put into those ingredients. Nor do I know what something is made of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The running joke a few years back was that workers made all the merchandise in the back of the building. We were getting asked often if we had made the items for sale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customers also do not seem to understand that a made in Alaska item is &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;expensive&lt;/span&gt;. You don&#39;t work for pennies, do you? Neither do Alaskans. Most of the items you will find in tourist traps come from China. It&#39;s just a fact. Very few people are really willing to may $200 for a piece of ivory. That&#39;s how it is.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/2488131164349277758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/2488131164349277758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/2488131164349277758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/2488131164349277758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2009/04/have-you-tasted-this.html' title='Have you Tasted this?'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-3017390147973182613</id><published>2009-04-24T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T18:12:47.887-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rant"/><title type='text'>Is it Good?</title><content type='html'>When in a candy store, or a bakery, or even a restaurant, there is a certain way of asking questions that gets better results than others. All the time, I get asked, &quot;Is such and such good?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, that is not an intelligent question to ask. Any clerk will say, &quot;Why yes, it&#39;s great!&quot; Even if they honestly think it tastes awful. A clerk will want to promote the product at first talk. A much better question is, &quot;What do you like?&quot; or &quot;What is it like?&quot; This requires the clerk to talk about the product and describe it. In asking in that way, it is much easier to get a feel for how the clerk does feel about the product. It also opens up more dialogue in general. If I get asked what I like in the candy case, I can tell you right away. If I sense you are open to more discussion, I will expand on my first words. But if you ask me if a candy is good, it may not be one of my favorites, and I will still say, &quot;yes.&quot;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/3017390147973182613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/3017390147973182613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/3017390147973182613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/3017390147973182613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2009/04/is-it-good.html' title='Is it Good?'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-3933127174773552017</id><published>2009-04-24T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T18:07:30.144-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rant"/><title type='text'>No Empty Tills!</title><content type='html'>When a customer needs to get checked out, they often go to the register. Most of the time, I have no problem with this. Customers usually find where they need to go, and we send them out the door. I get a little peeved when I wait and wait at the till for several minutes, as some customers look ready to go. As soon as I walk away from the till....they are ready to get rung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A worse peeve I have, is when we have two tills. When Summertime hits, we get two. Without fail, as soon as we pull out the second register, and stand behind it, all customers go to the first one. And if we are camped out at #1, they go to #2. Do you normally go to the empty register at the grocery store? No! So why do it at my place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once got asked, &quot;Can I pay anywhere?&quot; Mmm, no, I don&#39;t have 100s of dollars in my pocket for change. Sorry. Once I told the customer that I had a till in said place, I got a &quot;Oh really?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a customer, look around for a register near the clerks. If you are confused, ask a clerk. We are very happy to ring you up. Don&#39;t walk over to an unattended register and stand there. Sometimes it can be effective, but a lot of the time, it&#39;s just aggravating, and oftentimes, we can&#39;t help you there anyway.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/3933127174773552017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/3933127174773552017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/3933127174773552017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/3933127174773552017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2009/04/no-empty-tills.html' title='No Empty Tills!'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-3663028448559602329</id><published>2009-04-24T17:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T17:40:07.872-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="moments"/><title type='text'>Summer&#39;s Coming</title><content type='html'>Well, another Summer season is upon us. And it is very apparent. Weird customers have been popping up more. The t-shirts in the back have been repeatedly demolished. We&#39;re getting stupid questions more often. But, lucky me, I get to leave the state for 2 weeks to get away from it! And then it&#39;s full time into Summer. Then I will have more stories to tell...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/3663028448559602329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/3663028448559602329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/3663028448559602329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/3663028448559602329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2009/04/summers-coming.html' title='Summer&#39;s Coming'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-8584504101876547603</id><published>2009-04-24T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T17:34:00.296-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random"/><title type='text'>ASBO Comic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;http://asbojesus.wordpress.com/2009/04/22/705/&quot;&gt;So True.&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/8584504101876547603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/8584504101876547603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/8584504101876547603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/8584504101876547603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2009/04/asbo-comic.html' title='ASBO Comic'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-805322167784741127</id><published>2009-03-26T00:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T00:55:01.130-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="moments"/><title type='text'>This IS a real job</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;Originally posted on my personal blog July 26, 2008.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because I work as a candy counter girl in a tourist shop doesn&#39;t mean that I&#39;m a high schooler with no ambition. Maybe there&#39;s a reason I don&#39;t pursue a better job right now...so that I &lt;i&gt;can&lt;/i&gt; get a better job faster? Right now, my employment is treating me well (well, that could be questioned =P) I have a good boss, good coworkers, but the best part is the schedule. I can work as much or as little as I want during the school year. So, as I have done the past 2 years, I will be going to school full time and working every couple of days. If I were to work full time elsewhere, I would not be done with my AA degree and would still be floundering around, hoping to pass my classes. Basically, this is the best employment for me right now. I will still get a paycheck but be working on my schooling full time. My boss won&#39;t push me to work any more than I want, ever. Where else in town can I get a job like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a customer tonight who was the icing on the cake after several irritating customers. He was like, &quot;When you grow up, what&#39;s your real job going to be?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started seething inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one thing, I do have a real job. While it&#39;s not a 9-5 office job, it pays my bills and I have worked here for 2 and a half years continuously. I consider that to be a real job to me. I realize that I am still very young. I look young. I work with young coworkers. &lt;b&gt;But&lt;/b&gt;. I am a college student. Married and living on my own. I have a steady job. The satisfaction I felt when saying I was working on becoming an accountant and saying I&#39;m halfway there and seeing the surprise on that guy&#39;s face was slightly nice, but not really worth having to go through the conversation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno, it was totally not a big deal, but I do get sick of being treated like I am twelve for working retail.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/805322167784741127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/805322167784741127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/805322167784741127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/805322167784741127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-is-real-job.html' title='This IS a real job'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-1907471101773610705</id><published>2009-03-15T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T00:21:40.439-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memorable customers"/><title type='text'>Joran</title><content type='html'>Sometime last year, a father brought in his son to get candy. They turned out to be locals, and that turned out to be unfortunate for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son is about 6 or 7 years of age, and comes in after 3:30, after school is out for the day. His father has a 1 dollar bill for the kid to spend. There is not much for the kid to get, even after pointing at the chocolate in the case and is denied. He decides he wants jelly beans. His father opens the bins for him as we look on. To our shock, said child reaches in with his hand to taste, and to grab jelly beans for his bag. Repeated chastisement later, we got the kid out the door, with a $.98 purchase. We breathed a sigh of relief, after much discussion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week or two later, who walks in, but the kid and his dad. Same thing, 1 dollar to spend. Except this time, the kid was loud, yelling across the store, &quot;Dad, Dad, DAD!&quot; and his dad totally ignored him. Meanwhile, it is impossible to ignore him from the workers&#39; point of view. We learned a new tidbit that day: the kid does the same thing (grabbing, whiney), and also has a name, Joran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing that name soon sparked terror in our hearts. Seeing the door open to those two was enough to make us want to run away. We came to know him by name, and always had our guard up when he walked in. Who knew a little boy could strike such terror in the hearts of women?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then one day several months ago, we never saw him again.....and we don&#39;t miss him at all.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/1907471101773610705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/1907471101773610705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/1907471101773610705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/1907471101773610705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2009/03/joran.html' title='Joran'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-5494700351647230340</id><published>2009-03-14T23:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T00:01:23.534-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="weird"/><title type='text'>Getting Hit on</title><content type='html'>Today I was chatting with a normal looking man in his 30s. He was with his daughter who was at least 11, probably closer to 12 or 13, but I was not sure, as she seemed small for her age. He had a strange accent, but she did not. He was rather clueless on some things, asking me what different stone rings were made of, and confused as to how mood rings worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sold him a $1.50 ring, and he look at me and says, &quot;Every guy needs a ring, don&#39;t you think?&quot; I agreed, to be nice and conversational. And then the man continued, &quot;So he isn&#39;t hit on by girls, because he is handsome.&quot; By this point, I was looking at him incredulously, and so was his daughter, who promptly left the store at this point. He walked out and I shook my head at his tenacity.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/5494700351647230340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/5494700351647230340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/5494700351647230340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/5494700351647230340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2009/03/getting-hit-on.html' title='Getting Hit on'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-1390437551173521165</id><published>2009-03-14T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T23:38:34.563-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dumb questions"/><title type='text'>How to walk up a street</title><content type='html'>I had an interesting exchange with a &quot;local&quot; the other day. As a reference, the store is in the main business district of town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Local: &quot;Does the business pick up in the summertime?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &quot;Yes, of course.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Local: &quot;I&#39;ve lived here for 25 years.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Me: *nod*&lt;br /&gt;Local: &quot;How do the tourists get here?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &quot;What do you mean?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Local: &quot;How do they find you guys?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &quot;You mean the street?!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Local: &quot;Yes! How do they find their way up here?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &quot;I dunno...&quot; Thinking: How did you find your way here? You drove or walked...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure if my point came across, but he basically was asking me how people find the main business district...for one, there is a sign. And plenty of tourists find their way.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/1390437551173521165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/1390437551173521165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/1390437551173521165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/1390437551173521165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2009/03/how-to-walk-up-street.html' title='How to walk up a street'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-2028103080377504538</id><published>2009-02-14T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T00:11:15.601-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="slammed"/><title type='text'>I hate retail Valentines Day</title><content type='html'>Twas a typical Valentine&#39;s Day at work today. Men rushing in, glancing over the chocolate, grabbing a box and leaving. Women rushing in, meticulously taking their time picking out pieces of candy that are only going to be devoured in a matter of hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, chaos struck. The candy box guys showed up. These are two men that work on the slope, who buy candy with company money. They always want several boxes made up. Today was no exception. And, without exception, they manage to always bring a ton of people in with them. The store will be dead before they arrive. And once they walk in the door, we get slammed. They come in every couple months, and every time this happens. I can only think of one exception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They came in today, and we were overwhelmed with customers, my boss and I, all wanting candy at once. I made 3 boxes for the first man and my boss started in on the 2nd. Not sure how many she made. At least 4. All the while, the customers left out are getting more and more agitated. I hate it when that happens. If you all would spend more money all the time, we could have more help on a day like today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally got all of the customers out the door. And then it happened again. And again. I filled candy all day, and made boxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some other highlights:&lt;br /&gt;- A man walks in, &quot;Is the candy straight from the Amazon?&quot; &quot;Mmm, no, ---&quot; &quot;Oh well, better get  my antioxidant fix.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;- A hard of hearing Native man who when I give him a choice (Milk, or dark?) responds with &quot;yes&quot;. Therefore, you will take what I give you and like it. If you don&#39;t give me a satisfactory answer, I don&#39;t have time to waste on questioning you.&lt;br /&gt;- My boss dealt with a man who was so indecisive and unsure of what to get that she had to help him along. &quot;You have 3 pieces. You need 12 more. What else would you like?&quot; &quot;I thought you were going to pick them..*confused*&quot; Um. No, we don&#39;t know what your wife likes. &quot;Well, is coconut ok?&quot; &quot;NO, she hates coconut!&quot; There you go. At least you know her that well.&lt;br /&gt;- Old hippie guy started playing one of our wooden flutes in the store. Kinda obnoxious, but he was in the other room. We could handle it. He purchased it and his wife says, &quot;Why don&#39;t you play your flute, honey?&quot; *Resume playing for 5 minutes while they wander the store.* Please...go outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely an obnoxious day today. We made lots of money, but it felt just like summer already. I am so not eager for that to start again. I hate Valentine&#39;s Day in retail</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/2028103080377504538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/2028103080377504538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/2028103080377504538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/2028103080377504538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-hate-retail-valentines-day.html' title='I hate retail Valentines Day'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-7061370822292621714</id><published>2008-12-22T23:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T00:12:44.963-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="moments"/><title type='text'>Rants</title><content type='html'>Just because a product is listed on the website, does not mean that our store carries it. Yes, it is probably not marked as not being in all stores and should be. Order it from the website!&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Most stores are open later around Christmas&quot;.....We ARE open later. Nobody else is open past 6 anyway. Nor does anyone come &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;in&lt;/span&gt; after 6. Not worth the electricity or the payroll just for you to come in later.&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;Wanting me to somehow place a divider in a box of chocolates for sugar free and regular is not exactly the easiest thing in the world. And I have no classy way of putting a note in saying which side is or isn&#39;t sugar free...&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;When you are a regular customer, how does one manage to suddenly decide to push on the door with all of your might thinking it will open? There&#39;s a doorknob for a reason!&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;Holding a tin of mints, &quot;Does this have rocks in it?&quot; Um, no...why would I sell rocks in a fancy tin? And why would about 2 other customers ask the same thing on the same day??&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;At 12pm, 2 hours after we open - &quot;Well, it was worth opening the store up for us!&quot; Yea, you and your $50 sale......hardly.&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Can I mail a knife?&quot; I dunno, I don&#39;t work at the post office.&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Can you mail this for me?&quot; Again, I don&#39;t work at the post office!&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Do you work here?&quot; No, I like to put on a dumb denim jacket and red apron proclaiming the name of the company for the heck of it.&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;If it says that each piece is .25 a piece, why are you sampling it? Do you think I won&#39;t charge you for it? If you &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;ask&lt;/span&gt; to sample it, I won&#39;t charge you for it!&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;It&#39;s too &quot;Alaska-y&quot; in here....oh man. It&#39;s a tourist shop! Of course it is!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/7061370822292621714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/7061370822292621714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/7061370822292621714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/7061370822292621714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2008/12/rants.html' title='Rants'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-7059772778889967402</id><published>2008-12-19T00:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T00:28:02.724-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="moments"/><title type='text'>Little boy and the fan</title><content type='html'>A little boy came in with his father and immediately saw the fan on the ceiling. It was turned off, but he was immediately mesmerized by it. His dad drug him along but a few minutes later, we heard, &quot;Do you want to go look at the fan? Let&#39;s go!&quot; The dad brought the boy back, eagerly, and my coworker turned on the fan, much to his delight. The little boy tried to run directly underneath the fan, but couldn&#39;t access the location. It was adorable!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/7059772778889967402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/7059772778889967402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/7059772778889967402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/7059772778889967402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2008/12/little-boy-and-fan.html' title='Little boy and the fan'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-8308688344433763428</id><published>2008-12-03T15:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T16:00:48.213-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="weird"/><title type='text'>$2 Bills</title><content type='html'>We get $2 bills often at my work. Most of the time, one of the employees takes them home. I&#39;ve gotten tired of collecting them, but every once in a while I will snag one. $2 is a lot to shell out for a piece of currency still in use! Anyway, last weekend, we had a customer who was a little irritating, and he rang up an order of $169. Then as the icing on the cake, he says, &quot;You&#39;re going to hate me when I pay ^-^&quot; We were all, yea, whatever. He pulls out a huge wad of 2 dollar bills. And &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;paid us $170&lt;/span&gt; in them. Turns out, he pulls them out of the bank by the hundreds and pays for stuff with them. He was on a trip and had started off with $2000 in his wallet. WHO on earth does that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please don&#39;t ever do this, people!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/8308688344433763428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/8308688344433763428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/8308688344433763428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/8308688344433763428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2008/12/2-bills.html' title='$2 Bills'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-5492018805266745308</id><published>2008-10-27T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T17:48:21.982-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dumb questions"/><title type='text'>Noteworthy things heard this summer...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Customer&lt;/span&gt;: &quot;Where are your &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;parkas&lt;/span&gt;?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: &quot;.....it doesn&#39;t get cold enough for parkas here...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Customer&lt;/span&gt;: &quot;Oh really?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Customer&lt;/span&gt;: &quot;I just love the &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;water&lt;/span&gt; in this country&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;A teenage boy on his cell phone&lt;/span&gt;: &quot;No one has a &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;myspace&lt;/span&gt; in a 20 mile radius here!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;(Not sure where exactly he was looking...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Customer&lt;/span&gt;: &quot;Where is the &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;stage coach&lt;/span&gt; road?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Us&lt;/span&gt;: &quot;Stage Coach? There is no stage coach here...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out, she meant Skyline...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Older lady about her son&lt;/span&gt;: &quot;You don&#39;t like dark chocolate? What a &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;wussie&lt;/span&gt;!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Kid&lt;/span&gt;: &quot;It&#39;s too &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;Alaska-y&lt;/span&gt; in here!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a couple of things I heard from other locals about what tourists asked...&lt;br /&gt;- &quot;When are you going to finish the &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;construction&lt;/span&gt; across the bay?&quot; (meaning, when is the Spit going to stretch the rest of the way)&lt;br /&gt;- A tourist assumed that the Spit is covered by water everytime the &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;tide&lt;/span&gt; comes in. Now, how would we have buildings and people that live out there if the tide came in and covered everything twice a day?&lt;br /&gt;- At a park in the interior: &quot;When do you let the animals out?&quot; and &quot;When do you turn on the &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;northern lights&lt;/span&gt;?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That&#39;s all for now!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/5492018805266745308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/5492018805266745308' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/5492018805266745308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/5492018805266745308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2008/10/noteworthy-things-heard-this-summer.html' title='Noteworthy things heard this summer...'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3689183639893961317.post-6362695880880565674</id><published>2008-10-27T17:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T17:28:50.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello!</title><content type='html'>Hello everyone! I&#39;ve been meaning to work on this blog since the start of summer and just have not sat down to do it. I was originally going to anonymously blog about my work with the tourists. I was just going to make it for myself to have a record of all the crazy things that happen at work. This isn&#39;t &lt;a href=&quot;http://waiterrant.net/&quot;&gt;Waiter Rant&lt;/a&gt;, where I have to stay anonymous, but I&#39;m not going to divulge information that would be obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the point of this blog will be to tell the hilarious, but often ridiculous or irritating stories of my customers. And also be informative on how to be a better customer yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/feeds/6362695880880565674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/3689183639893961317/6362695880880565674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/6362695880880565674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3689183639893961317/posts/default/6362695880880565674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aktouristrant.blogspot.com/2008/10/hello.html' title='Hello!'/><author><name>Michelle Simpson Photos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08953752417459114205</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr1-Xhlp3y2a3mXmX_IZ6-GTcQ61sJUa7fkb053EKIYv5Vhh1RE0p1u-xarO8q7DBXQTl0EqMcRETYr7HFvnhj0O-tAZRbnalEqEdkY4S3vAO2vBvVkcAEDM171HTR10/s220/mspavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>