- Joined
- Nov 8, 2017
The Retail Horror Thread 2: More Tales to Chill your Bones
- Thread starter Surtur
- Start date
- Joined
- Mar 3, 2018
Shit has been absolutely fucking insane in the land of joanns.
-coworker 1 called to quit MINUTES before she was supposed to relieve me. Which is kind of a mixed blessing cause she was always late or called out a lot and had issues with welfare.
-coworker 2 had to move back home cause shit wasnt working with his gf up here.
-coworker 3 was forced to quit cause her babysitter was using weed at her house; her own kid told her and now theres an investigation cause they're military living on base. CW3 is my friend and I've met her kid so I got a lil upset.
Good news is that next week I'm gonna be trained for frame shop and will replace the main framer hopefully 2 weeks before December ends.
-coworker 1 called to quit MINUTES before she was supposed to relieve me. Which is kind of a mixed blessing cause she was always late or called out a lot and had issues with welfare.
-coworker 2 had to move back home cause shit wasnt working with his gf up here.
-coworker 3 was forced to quit cause her babysitter was using weed at her house; her own kid told her and now theres an investigation cause they're military living on base. CW3 is my friend and I've met her kid so I got a lil upset.
Good news is that next week I'm gonna be trained for frame shop and will replace the main framer hopefully 2 weeks before December ends.
Phantom
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2018
Man I really hate my new assistant manager. She put me on the spot today when a customer was trying to do an online pickup without any ID which is against company policy. I was telling the customer I wasn't allowed to do that, and the manager came over to see what was going on. I expected her to back me up, but she said she'd make an exception. Customer gets mad at me and starts saying how I was trying to scam her out of the items. Manager takes her side and starts chewing me out on the spot for following rules. Later she takes me aside after the customer left and tells me it the customer is mad just give them whatever they want.
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2014
This is why scam artists chimp out and why a lot of the times someone makes unreasonable demands and chimps out, it is because they are scam artists.
- Joined
- Jun 16, 2014
My work usually caves to the crazies and my God is it annoying. I know some lady gets like 10% her totally price every time she comes in because she purposely seeks out the managers, she dresses likes a gypsy and likes to talk about star signs and ask other customers in line about theirs. No idea why they give her a discount on EVERTHING, only one of my managers has told me the ladies nuts but she left it at that.
I did get a hilariously bad review once, I wasnt wearing my nametag (as usual) so she didnt get my name but what happened wasnt my fault she wanted something off the floor that I physically could not give her, there was a sign from management saying it was already spoken for. Well she got angry stormed off and wrote a bad review after trying to feed me a sob story. I iooked at her other reviews and she got made at a makeup store employee for not saying hi to her when she walked in, but to the person behind her. She then said he needed to be fired.
I did get a hilariously bad review once, I wasnt wearing my nametag (as usual) so she didnt get my name but what happened wasnt my fault she wanted something off the floor that I physically could not give her, there was a sign from management saying it was already spoken for. Well she got angry stormed off and wrote a bad review after trying to feed me a sob story. I iooked at her other reviews and she got made at a makeup store employee for not saying hi to her when she walked in, but to the person behind her. She then said he needed to be fired.
- Joined
- Nov 13, 2016
I was shopping at Bed Bath & Beyond and encountered a manager like that. The clerk helping me find something couldn’t find what we wanted but we were cool with it and were in the middle of conversing while she checked us out. The manager came over and just started screaming at her even though I kept telling her the item I was looking for wasn’t stocked in the store or online (seriously it was a fucking trash bag for my fancy trash can, not big deal). The manager was such a bitch I called corporate and let them know what a phenomenal job the clerk did (gave her name too, apparently they get gift cards when people call to compliment) and then filed a formal complaint against the manager. Their district manager called me to go over what happened and was infuriated after I told her what happened and said the manager would be retrained. I haven’t seen that manager in there since.
- Joined
- Dec 30, 2016
So we got this camel fucker cart pusher from Egypt who's been a pain in my ass.
1.) the fucker barely speaks English so yeah good luck telling him to do something and it getting done usually if it's me and him asked to do something I'M THE ONE WHO HAS TO DO IT!
2.) he acts like he's the fucking leader of the cart pushers (which is BS cause if anyone is the leader it would be me not saying that from a who standpoint I just have senoirity and I know the ins and out of that job)
3.) this future suicide bomber can't mind his own fucking business if I have to do something else on the part of the store he has to ask where I am, confront me why I was there and can't let me do my own thing with this job I've done longer than he's been in the country he's even confronted me by the side of the building getting my nicotine fix(which is a bad idea I suck at stress management and those breaks help)
4.) he'll talk shit about the other guy and I about our work ethic saying we're not hard workers and complain about being sick out injured (which neither are true we work our asses off and deal with some shit sometimes) yet if he's the only guy in the morning he'll bitch and moan till I come in at 2 and then bitch and moan to me about it or if he's the only one and it's too busy he'll complain it's too busy and wonder around the store (I literally came back from my lunch and the cart correl was half full)
1.) the fucker barely speaks English so yeah good luck telling him to do something and it getting done usually if it's me and him asked to do something I'M THE ONE WHO HAS TO DO IT!
2.) he acts like he's the fucking leader of the cart pushers (which is BS cause if anyone is the leader it would be me not saying that from a who standpoint I just have senoirity and I know the ins and out of that job)
3.) this future suicide bomber can't mind his own fucking business if I have to do something else on the part of the store he has to ask where I am, confront me why I was there and can't let me do my own thing with this job I've done longer than he's been in the country he's even confronted me by the side of the building getting my nicotine fix(which is a bad idea I suck at stress management and those breaks help)
4.) he'll talk shit about the other guy and I about our work ethic saying we're not hard workers and complain about being sick out injured (which neither are true we work our asses off and deal with some shit sometimes) yet if he's the only guy in the morning he'll bitch and moan till I come in at 2 and then bitch and moan to me about it or if he's the only one and it's too busy he'll complain it's too busy and wonder around the store (I literally came back from my lunch and the cart correl was half full)
- Joined
- Oct 11, 2014
So.....you had to do the job you were hired for, inotherwords?
Until you clarify this by saying you had other tasks you couldn't finish because you were helping out as a cashier and kept being unable to leave to do them, or a story of genuine hardship at your workplace you're not gonna get alot of sympathy, fam.
- Joined
- Feb 17, 2018
So you're a lazy nigger who whines about doing their job they are paid for? Fucking jigaboo! Get a job!
- Joined
- Jun 4, 2018
Back when I was working retail (MANY years ago), I made a point of reading the employee handbook, which is an awful lot like consulting the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer if you're a Guardsman in 40k. Kinda pointless.
But, I remember distinctly one passage which stated that, 'Yes, management can override policy. Management is also obligated to inform the customer they are overriding it, and that the worker/cashier/minion is not wrong.'
Three guesses how often THAT occurred when management overrode me on something.
- Joined
- Sep 3, 2014
You sound like the drive thru lady who complained to me I mentioned ages ago dude; the one who complained that she had to do the items described in her job.
- Joined
- Feb 17, 2018
Did you ever have a guy with horn-rimmed glasses, short sleeved shirt, a tie and a bag show up at your job talking about how the customers always right to your manager?
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2013
Recently resigned from my job at the bowling alley so I have a few more stories to tell.
I remember this one story where apparently a new hire got fired on his first day because he was actually banned from coming to the alley prior to getting hired.
How he got hired I’m not sure. Why he applied for a job I have no idea.
I remember this one guy who used to work with me. He was pretty cool. Had fun talking with him. One day however, he got a call saying that his best friend died in a car accident and he broke down crying. He was allowed to leave work early, but I never saw him again after that.
There was also this one middle aged man who was the head mechanic’s brother in law. He seemed alright, but a few weeks later I learned he got let go by running around and screaming at work without a shirt.
Some of the other employees described him as a bit of a jackass and a bully to the younger workers, so no one really missed him. Can’t help but wonder what the mechanic thought about all this.
I remember this one story where apparently a new hire got fired on his first day because he was actually banned from coming to the alley prior to getting hired.
How he got hired I’m not sure. Why he applied for a job I have no idea.
I remember this one guy who used to work with me. He was pretty cool. Had fun talking with him. One day however, he got a call saying that his best friend died in a car accident and he broke down crying. He was allowed to leave work early, but I never saw him again after that.
There was also this one middle aged man who was the head mechanic’s brother in law. He seemed alright, but a few weeks later I learned he got let go by running around and screaming at work without a shirt.
Some of the other employees described him as a bit of a jackass and a bully to the younger workers, so no one really missed him. Can’t help but wonder what the mechanic thought about all this.
- Joined
- Jun 16, 2014
Was at work the other day, I asked someone if they needed anything they fucking forced me sign a free gym membership thing.
- Joined
- Apr 10, 2013
Stab them with a pencil and abduct them. When they wake up they'll find themselves in the middle of a forest with this note next to the:
"You wanted to get in shape, so now you're going to be doing a lot of running. Survive."
Right about that time you should put a shot about 8" to 1' from their head. Then let the exercise begin.
- Joined
- Feb 19, 2015
Found this on Baddesthacks.net today:
http://www.baddesthacks.net/forums/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=598
http://www.baddesthacks.net/forums/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=598
so, my dad had seen the ad for the ghost pepper wings at Popeye's, and decided he wanted some, and asked me if I'd go with him sometime. I told him that would be awesome. two days ago, we decided to do this and smoked a joint first because of course we did.
we drive to Popeye's which is about 5-10 min away, and the parking lot has a fair number of cars in it, but nothing insane. we go inside, and I immediately notice that the line is long as fuck -- but goddammit we wanted those wings. so, we shuffled into place in the line.
what happened over the next 20 minutes or so I can only hope to fully describe.
a few minutes into our wait, during which time a few people have been served so things don't seem SUPER grim at first, a lady mentions that neither drink machine has ice. the shift manager or whatever comes out to look into this, and someone also points out that the machine on the left is backing up with some mysterious and disgusting black goop. my dad and I watch over several minutes, never moving in line, as the manager uses first some powder or some shit and then some kind of massive fucking syringe thing to stop the hellish black flow from the drink machine. whether he was injecting something into the cesspool or attempting extraction, I could not say.
it's around this time that I notice that, while several people had gotten food in the beginning of our journey, there were also several people who had been waiting the entire time we'd been there -- or very close, anyway. additionally, one of the people who had gotten their food brought it back up. the guy had apparently asked for / paid for only thighs in his box of chicken, and they had fucked that up. as soon as he brought his chicken back is when shit really started to hit the fucking fan.
the girl who had taken his order, and was theoretically attempting to rectify the thigh situation, left her register and basically wandered from the front to the back over the next several minutes slowly accumulating thighs in boxes (dude had ordered 3 boxes of thighs, however many pieces that was). thing is, she never fucking tells him what she's doing, and disappears for minutes at a time.
during this ordeal, and quite literally the entire time we were at Popeye's, the kitchen staff kept cranking out absurd amounts of original recipe chicken. like, batch after batch of it. there is a fucking mountain of original recipe fried chicken. a chicken Mt fucking Fuji. a chicken fucking Vesuvius. this is when people in line start getting pissed and talking to each other, and it turns out that most of the people who are waiting are waiting on the fucking ghost pepper wings. you know, the fucking new wings they run ads for on TV a hundred fucking times a day. the kitchen cannot seem to make any of these tho, as they're hellishly busy churning out fucking original recipe.
so, back to the man who wanted thighs only. after like literally 5 minutes or more of the girl floating around, occasionally flipping a piece of chicken with tongs and deciding it was not a thigh and disappearing again, said "fuck it" out loud and walked back to his table with whatever they'd given him. the girl who was on thigh quest either did not notice or did not care, because she never took another fucking order the entire time we were in there. she just floated from front to back fucking around, as best as I could tell. I will return to the shenanigans of this rogue cashier, known here on in as "Thigh Girl".
since my dad and I are now like halfway thru the line and about 10 or 12 minutes in, I began internally struggling with whether we were, at that point, "in too deep" so to speak. I began to wonder if I should mention leaving and just going somewhere else, but my dad had really wanted those wings, so I kept it to myself. in particular, there is a Captain D's right down the street that is pretty bomb. anyway. another thing that naturally occurs in such a situation is you begin to study your surroundings. my dad pointed out that the registers (all three of them, of which only one was actually ... kind of... being used) still had scrolling messages advertising the "$20 HOLIDAY FEAST". I don't know when that promotion ended, but surely it was by the fucking New Year.
he points this out, and we start laughing. my dad says if he ever gets to the fucking register he's ordering the Holiday Feast. everyone else in line has tense, edgy looks. really, the only reason we were taking this so well was because we had gotten super stoned beforehand. also worth mentioning is the demographics of the line -- now quite literally to the door. as might be expected at a fried chicken place in South Richmond, the racial makeup was largely black. however, there were several other white people and an asian guy as well. there was everyone from a young black girl with her mom to an elderly white woman. and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US is muttering like "yo, what the fuck is going on."
meanwhile, the manager is still fucking with the drink machine. there is no end in sight, and whatever the fuck was going on with the drink machine on the left, the one on the right still doesn't have any fucking ice in any case. the line has not moved in several fucking minutes. there are people waiting for their food, still. there are people waiting for ice. there are people waiting to use the drink machine on the right anyway, ice be damned. Thigh Girl is still floating around doing God knows what. it is at this point that I realize how fucking tall Mt. St. Chicken is getting. the cooks are still working like fucking galley slaves to produce ungodly quantities of original recipe, to what end I do not know. I also notice that, while Thigh Girl has been fucking around with the chicken off and on, both in the front and in the back -- she's been running back and forth, don't forget -- she hasn't actually been rotating it. in fact, no one has. Lord fucking knows how old the bottom chicken is. it's been buried for an hour or two probably... at least. who the fuck even knows. it's probably fucking petrified. it's probably fucking compressed into a diamond. it's probably a fucking fossil fuel.
this thought is troubling me, and it's worth mentioning now that my little brother spoke against this particular Popeye's in no uncertain terms -- claiming it gave him at least horrible shits and perhaps minor food poisoning. I had eaten there in the past tho, and written his experience off as a single unfortunate incident. but now, still roughly only half-way thru the line and about 20 fucking minutes in I think about this more. I mean, their fucking register displays still are showing shit from Christmas and it's like over a week into January.
at this point everyone in line is united in their confusion, disgust, anger, etc. etc. etc. no one gives a shit about being polite anymore, openly pointing out how fucked up everything is. one guy is apparently a plumber and is attempting to give the manager advice on the black ooze situation. the people at the front of the line look dead inside, but they've already given up too much. the manager is as clueless and useless as Thigh Girl. it seems that, at least, the girl working the drive-thru is at least somewhat competent. my dad says out loud "yeahh... they're definitely not on their A-game tonite". I reply "yah they're out of their league and they playing tee-ball". people in line either snicker or get more visibly angry.
a few more minutes pass. nothing else of note happens except endless repetitions of the things I've mentioned already. Thigh Girl's shuffling around. manager's fucking around with the drink machine ooze. the one cashier actually kinda-sorta working is slow as shit. people are still waiting around. the kitchen keeps making original recipe.
and finally, fucking finally, my dad says "do you just want to go to Captain D's?". I said "yah I was thinking that like 10 minutes ago. fuck this." we then went to Captain D's and ordered, got our food, and fucking ate in the same amount of time we had been at Popeye's.
this was just such a fucking insane experience I've still been thinking about it, and thought you guys might think it was funny. since then, I have thought about things like... I did not, and would not want to, use the restroom at that Popeye's. but I really wouldn't be surprised if there's like fucking alien birthing pods in there. like, this is the type of place where there's not just one dead junkie in the stall, there's fucking 4 or 5. there's a crew member who's on-paper job is "bathroom junkie removal". but he fucking sucks at his job like everyone else there and just keeps making fucking original recipe fucking chicken.
we drive to Popeye's which is about 5-10 min away, and the parking lot has a fair number of cars in it, but nothing insane. we go inside, and I immediately notice that the line is long as fuck -- but goddammit we wanted those wings. so, we shuffled into place in the line.
what happened over the next 20 minutes or so I can only hope to fully describe.
a few minutes into our wait, during which time a few people have been served so things don't seem SUPER grim at first, a lady mentions that neither drink machine has ice. the shift manager or whatever comes out to look into this, and someone also points out that the machine on the left is backing up with some mysterious and disgusting black goop. my dad and I watch over several minutes, never moving in line, as the manager uses first some powder or some shit and then some kind of massive fucking syringe thing to stop the hellish black flow from the drink machine. whether he was injecting something into the cesspool or attempting extraction, I could not say.
it's around this time that I notice that, while several people had gotten food in the beginning of our journey, there were also several people who had been waiting the entire time we'd been there -- or very close, anyway. additionally, one of the people who had gotten their food brought it back up. the guy had apparently asked for / paid for only thighs in his box of chicken, and they had fucked that up. as soon as he brought his chicken back is when shit really started to hit the fucking fan.
the girl who had taken his order, and was theoretically attempting to rectify the thigh situation, left her register and basically wandered from the front to the back over the next several minutes slowly accumulating thighs in boxes (dude had ordered 3 boxes of thighs, however many pieces that was). thing is, she never fucking tells him what she's doing, and disappears for minutes at a time.
during this ordeal, and quite literally the entire time we were at Popeye's, the kitchen staff kept cranking out absurd amounts of original recipe chicken. like, batch after batch of it. there is a fucking mountain of original recipe fried chicken. a chicken Mt fucking Fuji. a chicken fucking Vesuvius. this is when people in line start getting pissed and talking to each other, and it turns out that most of the people who are waiting are waiting on the fucking ghost pepper wings. you know, the fucking new wings they run ads for on TV a hundred fucking times a day. the kitchen cannot seem to make any of these tho, as they're hellishly busy churning out fucking original recipe.
so, back to the man who wanted thighs only. after like literally 5 minutes or more of the girl floating around, occasionally flipping a piece of chicken with tongs and deciding it was not a thigh and disappearing again, said "fuck it" out loud and walked back to his table with whatever they'd given him. the girl who was on thigh quest either did not notice or did not care, because she never took another fucking order the entire time we were in there. she just floated from front to back fucking around, as best as I could tell. I will return to the shenanigans of this rogue cashier, known here on in as "Thigh Girl".
since my dad and I are now like halfway thru the line and about 10 or 12 minutes in, I began internally struggling with whether we were, at that point, "in too deep" so to speak. I began to wonder if I should mention leaving and just going somewhere else, but my dad had really wanted those wings, so I kept it to myself. in particular, there is a Captain D's right down the street that is pretty bomb. anyway. another thing that naturally occurs in such a situation is you begin to study your surroundings. my dad pointed out that the registers (all three of them, of which only one was actually ... kind of... being used) still had scrolling messages advertising the "$20 HOLIDAY FEAST". I don't know when that promotion ended, but surely it was by the fucking New Year.
he points this out, and we start laughing. my dad says if he ever gets to the fucking register he's ordering the Holiday Feast. everyone else in line has tense, edgy looks. really, the only reason we were taking this so well was because we had gotten super stoned beforehand. also worth mentioning is the demographics of the line -- now quite literally to the door. as might be expected at a fried chicken place in South Richmond, the racial makeup was largely black. however, there were several other white people and an asian guy as well. there was everyone from a young black girl with her mom to an elderly white woman. and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US is muttering like "yo, what the fuck is going on."
meanwhile, the manager is still fucking with the drink machine. there is no end in sight, and whatever the fuck was going on with the drink machine on the left, the one on the right still doesn't have any fucking ice in any case. the line has not moved in several fucking minutes. there are people waiting for their food, still. there are people waiting for ice. there are people waiting to use the drink machine on the right anyway, ice be damned. Thigh Girl is still floating around doing God knows what. it is at this point that I realize how fucking tall Mt. St. Chicken is getting. the cooks are still working like fucking galley slaves to produce ungodly quantities of original recipe, to what end I do not know. I also notice that, while Thigh Girl has been fucking around with the chicken off and on, both in the front and in the back -- she's been running back and forth, don't forget -- she hasn't actually been rotating it. in fact, no one has. Lord fucking knows how old the bottom chicken is. it's been buried for an hour or two probably... at least. who the fuck even knows. it's probably fucking petrified. it's probably fucking compressed into a diamond. it's probably a fucking fossil fuel.
this thought is troubling me, and it's worth mentioning now that my little brother spoke against this particular Popeye's in no uncertain terms -- claiming it gave him at least horrible shits and perhaps minor food poisoning. I had eaten there in the past tho, and written his experience off as a single unfortunate incident. but now, still roughly only half-way thru the line and about 20 fucking minutes in I think about this more. I mean, their fucking register displays still are showing shit from Christmas and it's like over a week into January.
at this point everyone in line is united in their confusion, disgust, anger, etc. etc. etc. no one gives a shit about being polite anymore, openly pointing out how fucked up everything is. one guy is apparently a plumber and is attempting to give the manager advice on the black ooze situation. the people at the front of the line look dead inside, but they've already given up too much. the manager is as clueless and useless as Thigh Girl. it seems that, at least, the girl working the drive-thru is at least somewhat competent. my dad says out loud "yeahh... they're definitely not on their A-game tonite". I reply "yah they're out of their league and they playing tee-ball". people in line either snicker or get more visibly angry.
a few more minutes pass. nothing else of note happens except endless repetitions of the things I've mentioned already. Thigh Girl's shuffling around. manager's fucking around with the drink machine ooze. the one cashier actually kinda-sorta working is slow as shit. people are still waiting around. the kitchen keeps making original recipe.
and finally, fucking finally, my dad says "do you just want to go to Captain D's?". I said "yah I was thinking that like 10 minutes ago. fuck this." we then went to Captain D's and ordered, got our food, and fucking ate in the same amount of time we had been at Popeye's.
this was just such a fucking insane experience I've still been thinking about it, and thought you guys might think it was funny. since then, I have thought about things like... I did not, and would not want to, use the restroom at that Popeye's. but I really wouldn't be surprised if there's like fucking alien birthing pods in there. like, this is the type of place where there's not just one dead junkie in the stall, there's fucking 4 or 5. there's a crew member who's on-paper job is "bathroom junkie removal". but he fucking sucks at his job like everyone else there and just keeps making fucking original recipe fucking chicken.
Tehshigelisok
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Dec 10, 2014
Two big ones last week at Mickey D's:
I was in line on break. Lady in front of me kept trying to order Whoppers, and the cashier kept correcting her. I jokingly asked the customer if she wanted curly fries, and she said "Oh, you have those?" Whoosh.
Later on, during a lull, I walked out into the lobby to get a drink of water. Guy at the counter sees me, clearly still in uniform. Asks me "Do you work here?" I said "No, I actually work at Burger King, I just put an M on my uniform to confuse people." He said "Oh, okay" AND STARTED TO WALK AWAY before I reassured him that I was joking. Turns out he was submitting an application. I don't think he'll last.
I just don't get how people can't remember what the hell McDonald's serves. I hear at least two people a week on average try to order a Whopper. People constantly call the McFlurry a "Blizzard" (wtf, our Dairy Queen doesn't even have a drive thru!). I've heard orders for onion rings, soup, spicy chicken, hot dogs, chocolate ice cream, a freaking CRUNCHWRAP (we don't even have a Taco Bell. How the hell do you even). One guy who tried to order a Whopper at least said "Oh shit, I'm at the wrong restaurant" and drove away -- still, how do you get us mixed up? Burger King's a whole three blocks away.
They also can't get names right to save their lives. I constantly hear things like:
* "McDouble cheeseburger" (do you want a McDouble or a Double cheeseburger? There is a difference!)
* "the dollar McSandwich, you know what I'm talking about?" (Manager and me: "NO ONE knows what you're talking about!")
* "Cheesy McDoubler" (they actually should have a sandwich by that name)
* "Breakfast sandwich" (do they seriously think our breakfast menu only has one thing on it?)
* "Breakfast egg wrap" (since when has the word "burrito" become too complicated?)
* "Chicken sandwich" (which one? McChicken? Classic chicken? Crispy buttermilk? Artisan grilled? Maybe the bacon smokehouse or mushroom swiss, but in chicken instead of quarter?)
* "Artesian chicken" (have you seriously never seen the word "Artisan" before?)
* "Asian chicken" (...yeah, you've clearly never seen the word "Artisan" before. Either that or you're dyslexic as fuck)
On top of that, no one ever seems to notice that our wraps come in crispy or grilled. EVERYone has to be asked which of the two they want, and then they hem and haw for five minutes because apparently that's the most complicated choice in the world.
I was in line on break. Lady in front of me kept trying to order Whoppers, and the cashier kept correcting her. I jokingly asked the customer if she wanted curly fries, and she said "Oh, you have those?" Whoosh.
Later on, during a lull, I walked out into the lobby to get a drink of water. Guy at the counter sees me, clearly still in uniform. Asks me "Do you work here?" I said "No, I actually work at Burger King, I just put an M on my uniform to confuse people." He said "Oh, okay" AND STARTED TO WALK AWAY before I reassured him that I was joking. Turns out he was submitting an application. I don't think he'll last.
I just don't get how people can't remember what the hell McDonald's serves. I hear at least two people a week on average try to order a Whopper. People constantly call the McFlurry a "Blizzard" (wtf, our Dairy Queen doesn't even have a drive thru!). I've heard orders for onion rings, soup, spicy chicken, hot dogs, chocolate ice cream, a freaking CRUNCHWRAP (we don't even have a Taco Bell. How the hell do you even). One guy who tried to order a Whopper at least said "Oh shit, I'm at the wrong restaurant" and drove away -- still, how do you get us mixed up? Burger King's a whole three blocks away.
They also can't get names right to save their lives. I constantly hear things like:
* "McDouble cheeseburger" (do you want a McDouble or a Double cheeseburger? There is a difference!)
* "the dollar McSandwich, you know what I'm talking about?" (Manager and me: "NO ONE knows what you're talking about!")
* "Cheesy McDoubler" (they actually should have a sandwich by that name)
* "Breakfast sandwich" (do they seriously think our breakfast menu only has one thing on it?)
* "Breakfast egg wrap" (since when has the word "burrito" become too complicated?)
* "Chicken sandwich" (which one? McChicken? Classic chicken? Crispy buttermilk? Artisan grilled? Maybe the bacon smokehouse or mushroom swiss, but in chicken instead of quarter?)
* "Artesian chicken" (have you seriously never seen the word "Artisan" before?)
* "Asian chicken" (...yeah, you've clearly never seen the word "Artisan" before. Either that or you're dyslexic as fuck)
On top of that, no one ever seems to notice that our wraps come in crispy or grilled. EVERYone has to be asked which of the two they want, and then they hem and haw for five minutes because apparently that's the most complicated choice in the world.
P
PT 940
Guest
kiwifarms.net
I used to work at a retail chain and saw a woman chew out a 16-year-old girl I worked with for being lazy because the girl didn't fill out her check for her. The girl didn't have a checking account and explained to the woman she didn't know how to fill it out. The store manager stood there and listened to the whole things and said nothing to diffuse the incident.
Thankfully I was able to get the manager in trouble a few months later for openly making fun of people with cerebral palsy to another manager. I tried to tell the HR lady about it and she said "You don't know him like I do, he was just horsing around." So I called corporate and told them about the manager and HR. HR never spoke to me again and the manager was transferred to a store nine hours away. So at least there was retribution.
Thankfully I was able to get the manager in trouble a few months later for openly making fun of people with cerebral palsy to another manager. I tried to tell the HR lady about it and she said "You don't know him like I do, he was just horsing around." So I called corporate and told them about the manager and HR. HR never spoke to me again and the manager was transferred to a store nine hours away. So at least there was retribution.
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2014
Fuck any ancient decrepit fuck who still uses checks in stores, and who the fuck expects someone else to fill it out for her? What a cunt.
- Joined
- Jan 10, 2019
This is a belated Christmas story, but back in the day when my family used to shop at Toys R' Us for video games, they messed up on processing the tag (if you haven't been there, basically you grab a tag under the empty game box on the shelves and then use it to claim the game at a secured area at the front) so they moved us to the front of one of the checkout lines to compensate for the mistake. This lady behind us freaked out and accused us of line cutting and then screamed at the poor cashier. She got so angry that she left the store without making any purchases. We had a good laugh at her expense on our way home since we knew she'd have to go shopping again for all of that stuff she left behind. Christmas makes some people crazy!