Write-Up Or Write-Off?

, , , , , | | Working | May 26, 2018

(I’m called in to talk to my front-end supervisor and the assistant store manager about a customer complaint.)

Assistant Manager: “I received a disturbing call about you from a customer who said that she dropped her cash while paying and you didn’t help her pick it up.”

Me: “Well, no, I didn’t. I was told in training that cashiers aren’t supposed to leave their registers in the middle of a transaction unless there’s an actual emergency. Also, the customer in line behind her did help her pick it up, and three people picking up a few coins seems like overkill to me. Anyway, the only reason that her cash ended up on the ground is because she tossed it at me instead of handing it to me, forcefully enough that the coins bounced off of me and landed on her side of the counter. I’m not in the habit of helping people who disrespect me.”

Supervisor: “[My Name], you need to calm down.”

Me: “I’m calm; I’m just telling you what happened.”

Assistant Manager: “The customer didn’t call to inform me of this because she wanted you to get in trouble.”

Me: “Really? I can’t think of any other reason to call and complain about something so petty.”

Supervisor: “That’s enough! I’ve been at this store almost a year now and you are the only cashier I’ve ever gotten any complaints about from customers!”

(This is an outright lie. Cashiers and baggers at this store talk to each other all the time, and one of the things we all talk about is, “[Supervisor] chewed me out over another BS complaint.”)

Assistant Manager: “You’re probably lying about her tossing the cash, too. I’m sure if I looked at the security camera footage from that day I’ll see she did nothing of the sort.”

Me: “That’s a great idea; let’s go look at it right now. I even remember roughly what time it was.”

Assistant Manager: “We don’t have time for any of that; just sign this write-up so we can all get back to doing our jobs.”

(I refused to sign. Within two weeks of this incident, I had found a new job and given my notice.)

Timescare  

, , , , , | | Working | May 26, 2018

My cousin is having a destination wedding in Mexico, and we’re all staying in the same resort. I am underage at this point, so I’m assigned with the task of watching over my brother who’s been drinking. He ends up getting way more drunk than I have ever seen him, before or since. My brother, mother, father, and I are all in the same room. My brother is so drunk that he’s wrapped himself around the toilet and refuses to move. It’s around this time our ceiling starts leaking.

My dad dreads calling the front desk, since they have been nothing but a pain the whole time. They’ve been trying to force my parents into a timeshare meeting, and pushing upgrades we don’t want. They also have a habit of disappearing whenever we need help. My dad reluctantly decides to call after a couple of puddles start forming. The front desk starts asking if we would like to upgrade for an additional cost, and my dad keeps telling them he just wants to switch rooms. They then tell him they only have upgrades available, and they will waive the cost if he goes to the timeshare meeting. Being exhausted and just wanting a dry place to sleep, my dad agrees.

We are all woken up around two am to change our room. My brother is still passed out in the bathroom, and we can’t open the door to get him out. It takes him quite a while to figure out how to stand up and get out of the bathroom, and at this point the man from the front desk is fairly annoyed. We all pack up and start on our journey down the hall. We’re not even two doors down from our room when my brother spots a trash can, and immediately makes a run for it and makes a disgustingly loud display of getting sick. The front desk attendant is mortified and just tries to move things along. My brother stops at every single trash can he can find to repeat his display. I eventually can’t help but laugh, and this irritates the front desk attendant even more.

Finally we make it to the end of the very long hallway and to the final hurdle: the elevator. My brother immediately goes pale and starts shaking his head, but we have no idea where we’re going, so we have to follow the attendant. We end up going up three stories, and we are all deadly silent, just waiting for the inevitable moment. Somehow, my brother holds out, and as soon as the door opens he expels into the trash can waiting outside the elevator. The front desk attendant is now shaking with anger, but still says nothing. We finally manage to get to our room, my brother curls around the toilet, my dad tips the man, and all is good.

The next morning, my dad goes to the front desk to discuss the timeshare meeting. He is then told that all fees have been waived, but he can still go to the timeshare to get credit for the gift shop, which he decides to do, anyway, since he had planned around it. He also asks if they discovered the cause of the leak in our ceiling. Turns out the girls above us got wasted, ran their jacuzzi, and then fell asleep. The jacuzzi flooded their room and leaked down to us. They then let him know, with quite a bit of disdain, that the girls above us happened to be the maid of honor and a couple bridesmaids from our party. They were my cousins. Turns out none of my family can hold their liquor, but the hotel staff didn’t bother us anymore.

Ignoring The “Security” Part Of Social Security

, , , , | | Working | May 26, 2018

(I am at home and suddenly receive a call from an unknown number. I decide to answer.)

Caller: “Am I speaking with [My Name]?”

Me: “That would be me.”

Caller: “I need you to confirm you are [My Name]. Would you please confirm your date of birth and social security number?”

Me: “I am not comfortable providing that information.”

Caller: *agitated* “Well, you have to confirm you are [My Name] before I can speak to you.”

Me: “But you have not said who you are, or what company you are from. Why would I give my social and birthdate to you?”

Caller: *more agitated* “Because you need to confirm your identity!”

Me: “You do realize you called me, right? I have no obligation to answer your questions. If you tell me who you are and what company you’re from, I might reconsider.”

Caller: “Fine! If you want to be difficult, then I am ending this call. I don’t have to put up with someone like you!”

(They hung up on me, and I later found out that they were from my credit card company. I filed a report with the company and they came back to say that they reviewed the call and she had done everything right, including hanging up on an abusive customer. Interesting that they never told me the call was being recorded.)

Wish The Cat Caught Her Tongue

, , , , | | Working | May 25, 2018

(My friends and I are a bit bored, so we decide to go to our local cat adoption center to hang out with the cats. Usually the ladies there are more than happy to have people come in and keep the cats company, but today they have a new woman working. I’m speaking with one of the older workers about how I want a kitten someday in the future, and telling her about my current cat.)

Lady: “You want a cat? Well, what is your current cat like?”

Me: “Well, she’s a bit old and grumpy. She doesn’t really get along with other cats very well, but—”

Lady: “Was she raised around other cats?”

Me: “No, she was mostly raised around dogs. She doesn’t get along with other cats. That’s why—”

Lady: “Well, is she stuck in one room all the time?”

Me: “She likes to stay in one room. If we let her roam she tends to pee on carpets, especially if there are other animals in the house. So I was planning—”

Lady: “Well, she sounds very territorial. It sounds like you want this kitten for yourself, not for your cat. If you really want an application, I’ll give you one, but you shouldn’t be introducing a new cat into your house.”

(I try and get a word in, but she just shoves an application in my hands and walks away. My friends and I are all very confused, and I turn to the older worker I was speaking to previously.)

Me: “But I’m not even planning on getting another cat until after my cat is gone. I just wanted to pet the kittens.”

Worker: “Oh, don’t worry about her. She gets angry when people come in to pet the cats because she says you’re ‘getting their hopes up.’ I think it brightens their day to have people to play with!”

(I had a great time with the cats, but I won’t be back to adopt a cat while that lady is working. Hopefully she’s gone when I’m looking to adopt a cat in a few years!)

Rule Of Dumb

, , , , , , | | Working | May 25, 2018

(The store I work at is a one-register, one-person store. We count down our drawers and do shift change a half-hour or so before the next person gets there, so when they do, they can just clock in, and we can immediately clock out and go. We have recently switched over to new registers and a new system. One of the changes is that instead of logging in as “First Shift, Register 1,” etc., each employee has their own individual number with their name attached to it. We try for a while doing it the old way, counting the drawer before the next person gets there, but the boss is noticing some discrepancies on the shifts of those following a certain individual, [Coworker #1]. He makes the new rule that you must wait until the next person gets there to count down your drawer. Now, [Coworker #1] has gotten into the habit of starting to count the drawer when she sees my car enter the parking lot, so by the time I actually enter the building, take off my coat, and clock in, she’s already done counting and logged back in under MY number. This robs me of the ability to watch her count it down and/or recount the drawer myself if needed. This morning, upon entering the store, she is part way through counting the drawer.)

Me: “Please don’t log me in when you’re done. I prefer to do that myself.”

Coworker #1: “Um… Okay.”

Me: *as I’m clocking in* “So, just curious, why don’t you wait for me clock in before you start counting the drawer… like we’re supposed to?”

Coworker #1: “Because [Coworker #2] always makes me wait for ten minutes.”

(A customer enters the store and asks for a can of chew.)

Coworker #1: “It’ll be just a minute, sir.”

Me: “Well, I’m consistently five minutes early. And the whole point of waiting until the next person gets here is so there’s two sets of eyes on the money as it’s being counted.”

Coworker #1: “Um… Okay.”

(She finishes counting and logs out, grabs the can of chew the customer asked for and sets it on the counter.)

Me: “Good morning, sir. One moment, please.”

(I log in and quickly recount the drawer. Only off by less than a dollar, which is not a big deal.)

Me: “Thank you for your patience, sir. You caught us right at the ‘changing of the guard.’”

Customer: “No problem.”

(Meanwhile, [Coworker #1] quickly clocked out and scurried out the door, mumbling about how tired she was. I can appreciate wanting to get the hell out of dodge… but I don’t think she realized that she was the reason for the new rule in the first place.)

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