| (no subject) |
[Dec. 20th, 2009|08:58 pm] |
I work in a pharmacy.
A man comes in with a doctors note (not a script- a handwritten note), and gives it to me. I look at it, and written on it is Claratyne and Zyrtec. Right-o, no problem. He tells me the doctor told him to get them.
Me: Okay, is it for yourself?
Man: No.
Me: Okay, who is it for?
Man: The doctor told me to get them both.
Me: [Okay, not what I asked...] Is it for an adult or child?
Man: The doctor told me to get them.
Me: [...] Adult or child?
Man: It doesn't make a difference.
Me: Actually, it does.
It does- children under twelve can't take the tablets, so a liquid is offered, which is much safer. I don't want to give a four-year-old an adult-strength medication and then have the parent calling up and asking for my neck if their kid gets sick.
Man: Child.
Me: Okay!
I grab the liquid Claratyne and Zyrtec, and return to the man.
Me: How old's the child?
Man: Child?
Me: Yes, how old's the child?
Man: How old?
Me: Yes.
Man: Me?
Me: ... no, the child.
Man: It's not for a child.
Me: ??? Okay, who is it for?
Man: My mother.
Me: Oh... 'kay.
I put the liquid medication on the till and instead get the tablet forms. By now a line is beginning to form. The pharmacist is one her dinner break, and the other PA is serving another customer.
Me: So this is-
Man: How old is she?
Me: ??? She can take-
Man: Six- [garble. I'm guessing he said sixty, but it came out sounding a lot more like sixteen.]
Me: Sixty?
Man: [nods]
Me: So, uh, this is-
Man: I only want one.
Me: Pardon?
Man: I only want one. How much are they together?
Me: [scans] They're both thirteen dollars. Twenty-six together.
Man: I only want one.
Me: Okay. Claratyne is non-drowsy, Zyrtec can cause drowsiness.
Man: I want this one. [picks up the Zyrtec]
Me: That can cause drowsiness.
Man: Drowsiness? What is drowsiness?
Me: Drowsiness. It can cause sleepiness.
Man: Sleepiness?
Me: Your mother could go to sleep.
Man: [stares at me in confusion]
Me: Do you want your mother to go to sleep?
Man: I'll take it.
So I scan the Zyrtec, and ring him up. I bagged it, told him only one tablet a day to which he gave another confused look and thanked him for his purchase.
Please, people, just answer my questions correctly and it'll be much easier to give you the appropriate medication. |
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| Witnessed Suck |
[Dec. 19th, 2009|11:20 pm] |
I had just left my job at a coffee shop which happens to be in the same mall as a Zellers. I needed to return a kitchen gadget my roommate turned out not to want, so I swung by. I dialled up an EP on my iPod and settled in for what I thought would be a short wait at Customer Service, since there were only two people in line. Whereupon I witnessed this occurrence.
I didn't hear everything that went on due to the aforementioned iPod, but I gather this was the gist of it:
Little old lady (henceforth known as OL) had bought something on sale. The sale later changed so that it was cheaper than full price but not as discounted as she had bought it as (maybe she had a coupon or something). For the sake of clarity, we'll say she had bought it at 50% off and it was now 25% off. She wanted a price adjustment. Of course, if the price were adjusted she'd end up owing them money. The girl working the customer service desk explained this. The discussion continued for a bit while OL continued to insist she was owed a price adjustment. (The EP I was listening to finished.) Then it came out that what she actually expected was a further 25% off the money she'd already spent, and she wanted to talk to a manager. The Customer Service girl called over the senior cashier, who explained that this was not possible and she didn't have the authority to allow it. OL repeated that Zellers policy showed that if the price dropped within a certain amount of time after her purchase, she was allowed a price adjustment. The senior cashier admitted that this was so, but since she'd already spent less money than the sale price of the item, she wasn't entitled to any refund. OL restated her position. Lather, rinse, repeat. Many times. Over, and over, again. OL kind of reminded me of one of those skinny little pine trees clinging to a windswept cliff face, somehow hanging on despite the obvious reasons not to, only less admirable and more fucking annoying.
My iPod politely informed me that its battery was dying, and I still had a 45 minute-long trip by metro and bus to look forward to. My arm hurt from getting the flu shot yesterday, my feet hurt from standing on them for nine hours during the Christmas rush, and my head was starting to hurt from being stuck in a Zellers lineup for 25 minutes. At this stage I was already imagining the headlines: Barista Kills Senior Citizen With Melon Baller, Attempts to Return Murder Weapon. Subtitle: Sales Clerks Happy to Assist.
Post script: it ended without OL getting her refund, and swearing to come back in the morning to talk to the store manager. The amount of money she would have saved? Less than ten dollars. |
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| Unworthy, Yet Again, of Being Invited to the Christmas Lunch |
[Dec. 20th, 2009|12:51 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Home | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  pissed off | ] |
My boss at work moved house last Wednesday, and I was checking her e-mails for her while she was without phone or internet service. The other people who allegedly work in our organization knew this would be happening (all of their names have been changed in this story).
At about 2 pm an e-mail came through from Jane informing my boss, Amanda, that reservations had been made for the staff Christmas luncheon at the new and hoidy-toidy restaurant at the Museum. Also copied on the e-mail were William and Mark (who doesn’t technically work for us). Please note too that neither Jane nor William work in my office – Jane pretends to work from home, and William is based in another city. Mark inhabits one of our rooms here in ____, but was in fact away that day, so I was completely alone last Wednesday.
This is the fourth year in a row that I have been excluded from the Christmas lunch for staff, and I am extremely pissed off about it. Please read last years LJ entry at http://tizianaj.livejournal.com/54394.html for my previous take on it and more details, but this has just fuelled my grumbling resentment.
( Read more... )( Read more... )( Read more... )( Read more... )( Read more... ) |
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| The Drama of Returns |
[Dec. 19th, 2009|10:34 pm] |
Please understand that when I tell you how sorry I am that we can't give you cash back on a return when the original purchase was made in entirety with a gift card that I'm really not at all sincere about it, especially after you've made an ass of yourself by having me call a manager to confirm this, and then snatching the phone from my hand to yell at him for our "ridiculous policies" which are much the same as anywhere else (I'm hard-pressed to think of anyplace that will give cash back on a purchase made with a gift card). Oh? You only purchased the gift card to buy this item you no longer want? Then tell me, since you bought the gift card yourself, why didnt you just pay for the item with the cash you're so insistant of entitlement to? We cannot and will not give cash back, so your best bet is to calm down, even though you are now the subject of much amusement to the rest of the line behind you. (sidenote: this may read as me being indifferent and snotty, but when dealing with this particular customer, I was as polite as I could be in the situation, while underneath I really just wanted to head-butt her).
Small edit: our return policy prints in an easy-to-understand description at the bottom of the receipt. Also, we have signs explaining our policy located next to the registers. Our gift cards, like the ones at every other retail chain I've worked for, state clearly on the back that they cannot be redeemed for cash ( I know some states have laws about this if the amount is under $5 or so, but mine is not one of them). Our managers ae more than willing to work something out, but in this case, there was nothing we could do. So this really isn't a matter of managment_suck or bad policy.
And to the old lady who tried to make a return with an expired receipt: I found it amusing that your response to me telling you, "You purchased this in June; the receipt expired in September." was, "You don't use a blanket in June!" and then whining about how you'll never shop with us again, just because you waited too long to make a return. (Our store policy is that after 90 days, we will not return or exchange merchandise unless there is a manufacturer's defect, which was not the case here).
tl;dr: lady wants cash back on an item puchased with a gift card; another lady is upset because her return receipt is expired. |
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| Ugh... |
[Dec. 20th, 2009|01:59 pm] |
Friendly Christian bookstore worker here.
Working minimum wage in a job that I was rather lucky to get.
Ive worked here a long time and been rather happy.
But like every retail store, we are prone to a few crazies and annoying customers.
1. Yes, religion is a very controversial subject. Even inside the same religion and strand there will be people with different ideas.
The old lady did have some beliefs that were very controversial to most Christians but that does not qualify for you a middle age man to get in a yelling argument right in front of our registers making us practically force you two apart.
2. You want to check these boxes to make sure its the right photo frames inside? Sure, Ill just do that for you. *Fetches Stanley blade knife thing to open box easily and starts opening the first box, placing the knife by my keyboard far away from you so you cannot touch it*
Oh...
You take the knife blade and open your box your holding. (the completely wrong way, cutting towards himself and his fingers) Great I could've just lost my job and you could've lost your fingers. Thanks.
*quickly takes blade away, locks it back into place and stuffs back into drawer*
3. Although I am allowed and I am qualified to work in the whole store I don't get down to our music section much. I also don't have as much experience out the back in our storeroom.
You need some help? Oh sure, thats fineee. But please. There is only a few staff in at this time of the night and i'm all by my little lonesome down here in music at the moment. Please do not enter behind my counter, blocking me off from the only way to get in/out from behind here. I'm a young school-aged female. You are a much much older male. PLEASE GO TO YOUR SIDE OF THE COUNTER
I found your first cd but the other one, I really cannot find. People have the worst habit to get out a book, walk around and straight past staff a million times and then decide they don't want it and dump it wherever they can find a spot. So it might be had to find your one cd. (we found it a few days later while cleaning the other side of the store >.>)
Oh you don't want me to order one in for you? Sorry about that, have a nice day.
I go back to the counter a while later and our new girl is being confused to heaven and back for the same man's hold item. I try to help her before I notice that its the same cd he asked me for and it was put on order today.
This means he went to another staff member and put an order through, went to the counter and expected it to magically be there x.x
No really, i'm not hiding it, if its not there... ITS NOT THERE
TL;DR
1. Old lady and Man argue about religion, blocking all our registers, nearly ends in a fistfight
2. Man nearly cuts off fingers after stealing my knife thing.
3. Man corners me at the back of the store, demands for me to find an old cd, orders the cd into the store and expects it to be on the back counter ten minutes later.
I know these could be considered as minor sucks, if sucks at all but I needed to vent ^^' |
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| Cheesemonger Chronicles: SnOMG It's Snomaggedon! |
[Dec. 19th, 2009|09:34 pm] |
Background: I work in a cheese shop. People react to snow like the weather forecast is calling for lava and black death falling from the sky. The new cheese shop motto is: Shut up before I stab you in the eye.
Yes, they have predicted a snowstorm; in fact, we're likely to get almost a foot of snow. This will halt all operations in the area for, oh, a day. Why are you shopping like the zombie apocalypse is upon us?!
Yes, we have no bananas. I can't just go in the back and get bananas because we have no bananas. I'm sure we have no bananas. I don't know why we have no bananas; ask the other 300 people in the produce department.
Ditto for grapes, milk, and sliced white bread. Yelling at me, threatening me, or bribing me will not change anything. Except I'll die a little more inside.
Sure - I can cut you a piece of cheese that's a few cents less/a few cents more/rounder/squarer/untouched by any other customer ever. I can't promise not to talk about you while I do it, though.
Don't touch me.
( Cheesemonger's Choice: ) |
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| Not the sharpest knives in the drawer... |
[Dec. 20th, 2009|10:53 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  amused | ] |
| [ | music |
| | AKB48 - Sakura No Hanabiratachi 2008 | ] |
My sister works for a shop where the management aren't so bright. An hour after she started work today, the phone rang:
Me: "Hello?"
Woman on other end: "Is (my sister's name) there?"
Me: "Sorry, she's at work at the moment. Can I take a message?"
Woman: "Oh, this is --- from Fails-R-Us, I was just wondering if she could work today?"
Me: "...Shouldn't she...already be there?"
Woman: "Huh?"
Me: "She went to work an hour ago..."
Woman "I'll just take a look around...oh, right, (my sister's full name) is already working today. Sorry about that!" |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 19th, 2009|03:42 pm] |
Was once a tea wench and now in a department store selling kid's shoes.
Okay, seriously people. It's no major surprise that every kid on the face of the planet wants Uggs. It's not like this is even the first year they've been popular. So why are you screaming at me that I don't have the size/style you're looking for? It's a week before Christmas! WTF do you expect?
And to the asshole who screamed at me over the phone not once but called back a second time: Go die in a fire.
Oh, and if you're going to buy kid's shoes as a gift, could you at least find out what size they might be wearing? Walking up to me and saying you're buying one for a 17 year old girl doesn't help me in the slightest. I can give you a rough estimate for toddlers, and even younger kids, but at that point her shoe size could be anything.
And one final little bit: Don't argue with me about what your kid's measuring at. Their heel's at the end, their foot's flat, and I showed you the numbers for both feet. Don't yell at me that I'm bringing out shoes that are way too big for them. Look, I realize they're your baby and I can understand if you don't want them to grow up, but they are, and asking me to shove them into a shoe that's 2 full sizes too small isn't going to be good for your kid. No really, I promise. |
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| I'm not sure if this is density or persistence, but it is still made of fail. |
[Dec. 19th, 2009|11:08 am] |
Rental Car Clerk Here, bringing you the service/travel industry lulz once again.
One would think, that if you were to call ahead to ask that special circumstances be allowed, and be told "No, sorry we can't do that" it would, in fact mean NO - your circumstances shall not be allowed an exception. Really simple logic, right?
So this fellow calls me to tell me that he has a reservation for a car but he missed the bus and the next one won't arrive until after we close. He wanted to know if we would stay open to meet him. I go into the computer to pull up his reservation and see if he's a prefered customer, because unless the flights are delayed or the customer is "prefered" (meaning they've rented several times) we aren't allowed to stay late. The only resevation I have, however, is for a lady under a different name. I inform him that I don't have a reservation for him, perhaps he made it with AVIS or HERTS, but he assures me no, no; that's his girlfriend's name.
"Oh, okay, no problem. She'll be the driver, then?"
"Yes, she'll be driving."
"Allright, so she'll be the primary driver. The rental will have to be in her name, and on her credit card."
"Well, actually my mom is paying for it."
"Oh. I'm sorry, we don't allow that. The rental has to be paid for with the credit card of the primary driver."
"What? I don't understand that! That doesn't make any sense."
"I'm very sorry, that's our policy. In order to qualify to rent, the renter must have their own credit card."
"Oh. Well, whatever." *click*
I took his terminating the call to mean he understood that he couldn't use his mothers card for his girlfriends car rental, and that we were done.
( In Which NO Means Show Up in Person and Maybe I'll Bend Policy for You. Bonus Points if Your Girlfriend Cries )
*There was a small bit of bad_service / management suck in that our hours changed and no one told me. Luckily I was still here, and I did go out an help them instead saying "We're closed, GTFO!" Our schedules have been set in stone unless it's a holiday or my boss goes away on business for almost the entire time I've worked here, as both me and my co-worker are full time students. So, I was not aware our website was telling people we were open until 6 on Fridays. The only way I could have known, without so much as a note from my boss, was if I'd done exactly what I did; went online and tried to book something for after 5:30, or if someone made a reservation for 6. That, however, has less than 5% to do with what happened, as their reservation was for 5 and the credit card / 'No, you cannot use Mommies credit card, especially if you don't even have it on you!' was the real issue. |
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| I cannot make the power come back on |
[Dec. 19th, 2009|01:42 pm] |
Yesterday we had a power outage due to the heavy, wet snowfall. Everyone knew it was coming, so the grocery store was packed. One of the workers who has been here twenty years said he'd never seen it this busy. Anyway, the power had been flickering on and off for about thirty minutes, and finally decided to stop playing around and go out completely.
When the power goes out, we lose two registers, and we only have four to start with. I was supposed to be out in the smoke shack, but no power, no register, so I stayed in the grocery store to help bag. People were lined up to the back of the store, but most of them were patient and understanding about the situation.
A few were not.
( Cut for script format ) |
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| Cheesemonger Chronicles: This Is What Happens When You Fail Biology |
[Dec. 19th, 2009|01:33 pm] |
Background: I work in a cheese shop. People are not quick.
Yesterday, a customer nearly bit my coworker's head off for not having 'organic baking soda'.
We sell cheese. And baking soda is a mineral.
I'm pretty sure something has to be an organism in order to be organic. |
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| The return of the mad American tourist |
[Dec. 19th, 2009|01:02 pm] |
Okay, who remembers This Lady?
Tl;dr: Mad American tourist comes to England and honestly belives she can pay the nice, English cashier in dollars rather than pounds. Gets rather grumpy when she gets told she can't.
Well, she came back.
And she's lost her passport. Yesterday, she went to Birmingham (A city 45 minutes away by train. It's fairly far away by our standards) because she ACTUALLY DECIDED TO CHANGE HER DOLLARS TO POUNDS. YESTERDAY. She last came in a week ago and discovered she couldnt pay in dollars, so I have no clue how she managed to get by for the whole week with no money. And when she got back, she left her passport in Birmingham.
And naturally, the whole thing is our stores fault, because we (I) was the one who told her about dollars not being accepted. Okay, I didn't actually mention that we have a Bureau de change at our post office about a ten minute walk away. But that doesn't mean it's my fault that she went to Birmingham (instead of, you know, asking where the nearest bureau de change is and going to the one in the town rather than a whole 2 citys away) and managed to loose her passport in the process.
She came in hollering at the Customer Service desk assistant, who had no idea who she was or why the whole incident was our fault. Our lady even offered to call the Birmingham airport (where she went) if they had it, but apparently "we're all useless idiots who she doesn't trust anymore and will never come back to England again." Once she... you know... manages to leave the country. Without a passport.
Urgh, I almost feel guilty for wanting to send her back to America. I'm sure you guys really don't want her back, but she's scaaary ;_; |
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| two related wtfs concerning a shirt |
[Dec. 18th, 2009|11:47 pm] |
Hi! I work at a video game store.
Today I went to work as usual wearing a button down, collared shirt. Dress code at work calls for semi business casual (though they've recently allowed jeans, which is excellent). Therefore, since I've been working at the game store for one and a half years and have only so many collared shirts, I've worn the one I wore today probably about ten or twenty times with no problems.
Today, however. Today was different.
When the first wtf occured, I was helping a nice young couple with their purchase, when I hear the gentleman whisper to the lady, "She's wearing a khaki shirt." Confused, I turn around and ask, "Is there something wrong with it?" The man then looks at me with what I can only describe as a disgusted look on his face, and says "No. It just looks like an army shirt."
I laugh. Mystery solved! I then explain that it was something my boyfriend picked up at a surplus store, and that it was a South African police shirt (or at least that's what it said on the package). I figure that maybe he's just into military fashion and was having trouble identifying it, which he seems to confirm by saying, "It's not army. There wouldn't be pockets on the front if it was US army." I finish up their transaction, assure the man that it's not army issue, wish them a lovely day, and, as they are heading out the door, I hear the man say, "Why the hell is she wearing an army shirt to work?"
Oh well, I think. Odd, but what can you do?
Not half an hour later, another man is staring at me with another disgusted look on his face. I smile and ask him if he has any questions. Often times people look consternated when they're thinking, so I don't suspect for a second that his narrowed eyes are meant for me. Then, he looks me up and down, and with an incredible amount of vitriol, asks me this:
"Is there any particular reason you're wearing a man's shirt?"
...buh????
I blink. I sort of stutter that I didn't think there was anything wrong with wearing men's clothing. The man rolls his eyes (seriously I can't make this up), and my manager steps in and starts making jokes about men wearing women's clothing to diffuse the tension. I don't say anything else, as I'm staring down at my shirt and seriously wondering whether someone laid a curse on it as I was driving to work.
This is the shirt in question, except mine is a dark khaki. I'm still confused. |
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| Well, I didn't want to sell you that magazine anyway |
[Dec. 19th, 2009|12:12 am] |
Corporate book store training supervisor extraordinaire here (well, I will be for the next 2 weeks, at least).
Today was super busy. They sent out a last minute coupon, after cutting our hours and all sorts of awesome. I was stuck backing up the registers for most of the day. Almost all of our customers were ever so gracious about having to deal with the line (they saw we were working hard).
I know that our 20 question register spiel can get...long winded. But I am required to do it, and I do my job to the T, thank you very much.
So, here was my favorite register interaction today (script format!):
Me: BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS (I'm so perky because I handed in my notice the other day and all is great!)
AG: Angry Guy
Me: Hi my name is threeforagirl, did you find everything alright today?
AG: mumble (throws a magazine and a $20 on the counter)
Me: And do you have your Awesome Card* today? (scanning magazine
AG: mumble that sounds like no
Me: (typing in magazine price and stuff--our POS sucks so I have to do a few things) Would you like to donate a toy to *awesome charity for kids today?
AG: I CAN'T HEAR YOU I AM OLD (seriously, he said it)
Me: (making sure I make eye contact and speak distinctly) *repeat of previous statement*
AG: I just want to buy this magazine.
Me: Ok, did you need a gift receipt or gift cards? (hey, we have to ask and several people have THANKED me for reminding them of both because they forgot).
AG: (stares angrily for a second, then takes his money and walks off)
Now, I know it may seem like a lot, but you have to remember the whole time I am asking him questions, I am also working on the transaction, so I am not taking up any more of his time than necessary. Also, I was super friendly and nice to this guy. I mean it!
tl;dr: apparently, asking if someone needs a gift receipt or gift card is akin to spitting on their grave or something.
*words changed because even if it's obvious, I'm not breaking any pesky blogging policies! |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 18th, 2009|11:35 pm] |
Hey awesomesauce,
Don't come behind my bar. Don't. Ever. I am working fast-paced and everything is precariously placed. You wanted the lights to be brighter so you came behind the bar to touch their switches? They're set at the level my manager chose three months ago and have been running at that level ever since. Nothing, nothing, NOTHING excuses you walking behind my bar to "brighten up the joint." Don't come behind my bar, and don't touch the light switches. We're not insured for your stupidity.
- cesontmesmots |
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| SHEESH. |
[Dec. 18th, 2009|10:49 pm] |
Hi! Real women have My Place of Business.
Just a couple of things for my less-than-favorite members (and would-be members):
[1] We ask that you carry in your work out shoes. This is because the dirt, water, debris, whathaveyou that you track in damages our work out equipment, specifically our "boards" (rest stations between pieces of equipment.) And that shit ain't cheap, let alone easy to clean. So when you wear in your sneakers on a rainy, muddy day, and we ask if you (a) would mind working out in socks, (b) have another pair to wear, or (c) could please work out in front of the boards, we're just trying to save ourselves money, which in turn saves you money. Quit bitching about being picked on. You're not.
[2] When we have donation deals that say "Bring in x [school supplies, turkey, non-perishables, etc] and get the service free waived," guess what? You need to bring in x to get the service fee waived. No, we won't just waive it for shits and giggles. You aren't that special.
[3] No, I didn't put your birthday up on the calendar (which, by the way, I came up with and put together and update and make pretty all on my own, not because it's my job, not because I get paid more or praised, but because I want to enhance the experience). I didn't put it up because I don't know it. I don't know it because it's not on your sign-in card or even your membership papers. You didn't put it there. Don't get mad at me for not being psychic.
[4] Stop. Coming. Behind. The desk. ffs.
[5] I know I look pretty young--about 17 instead of 24--but even if I was 17, I wouldn't need you to talk to me like I'm a widdle girl who wants to grow up to be a pretty pretty princess. Even if I was 17, I'd be mature enough to not need you to be SO EXCITED or SO SAD over what's going on in my life. Specifically the "Awwww, that's GREAT!" and "Ohhhh, that must make you unhappyyyyy," and the "Well isn't that EXCITING! :D :D :D" kind of stuff. I don't need your tone of voice, hand gestures, body language, or facial expressions to guide me through the proper emotions. I appreciate the good will behind it all, but...please stop. You seriously talk to me like I'm five, but you'll talk to the 18-year-old member as if she's, well, 18. Wtf. I'M TWENTY FOUR.
On a happy note: Thank you to the mother & daughter work out buddies who gave me a present! Every Friday they ask about my "pub night," a weekly gathering I do with my friends...and they gave me a Christmas card with gift card to the pub inside! :D :D :D :D |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 18th, 2009|07:26 pm] |
H-D Dealership.
We got this Rocker Powerwheels for kids. We assembled one for display on the floor, and being the idiot that I am, I connected the battery.
Woman,
When I ask you to please not you let your child do laps around my fucking department on the Powerwheels, fucking listen to me.
The woman your CHILD hit was WALKING WITH A CANE!
DO NOT scream in my face that I eventually skip you entirely and ask your snotty CHILD to quit.
Thanks,
Me |
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| Dear Customers, |
[Dec. 19th, 2009|12:17 am] |
Please don't throw your money at me. I am trying my best to bag your items with limited space as my co-worker is attempting to use the card machine on my till due to the other having technical difficulties. I do know you are there and I fully intend to take your money as soon as I have rang up and bagged your items. This also leads to you dropping your money down the gap at the front of the till and me having to get out front to collect it for you. Which leads to you being at my till for longer than necessary. Waving your notes in my face also does not make me ring you up any faster, it just annoys me and means you are probably going to drop your money and have me come rescue it.
Yours,
Till Lady
PS
To the small child enthusiastically singing jingle bells the whole time he was in the shop and receiving death glares from the other customers:
it made my day to see someone who was clearly enjoying themselves, admittedly at the expense of the other customers and his own mother but still. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 18th, 2009|12:24 pm] |
This is not so much a specific incident, just a note I wish I could put up at work covering the usual sucks that come with my (normally lovely) job.
( Sucks of my job not caused by the regulars )
Tl;dr: A list I wish I could put up in the pub to be rid of the weekly annoyances. I can dream. |
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