h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Not exactly a customer, but about a week ago, my dad was dropping me off at work. I had to get out a fair way away from the door cos there was a queue of about 5 cars. As I passed I saw what was holding everyone up. One woman was parked across two handicapped spaces. An elderly couple was in the road behind her looking really agitated because she was blocking the third space because of the angle her car was parked at.

She was holding up at least 5 cars and blocking three handicapped spaces and she didn't even notice!



People suck.

There's been some talk lately about able-bodied people blocking handicapped parking spaces. There was a man with disabilities who had the satisfaction of firing a man who swore at him outside the hospital, because the handicapped man was blocked by the other, from his parking space. It turned out the man with disabilities in on the Hospital board!

Now he goes and challenges people who do things such as you describe - and with any luck, causes them to feel shame. Good on him!

I've got several. I'll start with the one, when I was working in WH Smiths. An old boy came up to me with a large book, put it on the counter and started rummaging in his pockets for his money. I gave him a while, then I said, would you like this? meaning, shall I ring it up for you. He shoved the book across the counter, shouting, 'I'm not f***ing being served by you, you f***ing jew, I'm f***ing this, f**ing that...' ranting on at the top of his voice. I was a bit stunned by this. My branch manager happened to be helping out on the counter beside me. He came up to me whilst this was going on and said, 'can I borrow a pen?' I gave him mine whilst this old boy was still going on, though moving away by now. Afterwards, the branch manager said nothing to me, it was a Christmas temp boy who came up to me and said 'are you alright?' Needless to say, I didn't think much of my manager after that.

Caroline

Bloody 'eck....

I worked for the Canadian branch of W.H. Smith and while we saw hide nor hair of branch managers of any one from head office, their influence was felt when moronic ideas like changing the sick leave from three paid days a year (even THAT is a bit crass) to three days with the first day of any sick period being unpaid. In other words, you had to be bloody well sure you were going to be sick for two consecutive days, otherwise you didn't get paid for the first day. This was, ostensibly, to cut down on people who were simply hung over or didn't "feel" like coming in to work taking a day off.

People hacked and wheezed and barfed their way through a full day because they didn't want to take a day off which wouldn't be paid, ensuring that everyone else in the place was going to get sick, as well. Meanwhile, people with hangovers continued to either call in sick because they simply didn't care or moped about the store in their usual manner.

They failed to realize that, somtimes, taking that first day off is enough to prevent you from becomming really really

Bloody 'eck....

I worked for the Canadian branch of W.H. Smith and while we saw hide nor hair of branch managers of any one from head office, their influence was felt when moronic ideas like changing the sick leave from three paid days a year (even THAT is a bit crass) to three days with the first day of any sick period being unpaid. In other words, you had to be bloody well sure you were going to be sick for two consecutive days, otherwise you didn't get paid for the first day. This was, ostensibly, to cut down on people who were simply hung over or didn't "feel" like coming in to work taking a day off.

People hacked and wheezed and barfed their way through a full day because they didn't want to take a day off which wouldn't be paid, ensuring that everyone else in the place was going to get sick, as well. Meanwhile, people with hangovers continued to either call in sick because they simply didn't care or moped about the store in their usual manner.

They failed to realize that, somtimes, taking that first day off is enough to prevent you from becoming really, really sick and certainly prvents you from spreading germs during the easily spreadable stage.

Sorry, hit post when i was trying to get the cursor up to fix a spelling error....

Meant to add, also, that when I worked at Chapters, this girl we had working with us who was of East Indian descent went up to a customer who looked perplexed and asked "Can I help you?"

She was met with a stream of disgusting epithets mostly including the "N" word. The manager marched out of the office, took the woman by the arm and frog-marched her to the door and told her never to come back into our store. She stood out on the curb screaming about how mistreated she had been because she had a right not to be served by "ni**ers". She didn't get any sympathy from the passers by.

Another time in the store, around Christmas, there was a large line at the cashes and most of the cahes were open. One of the cashiers, the most senior one, called "I can help you here!" to the next man in the line.

The man looked hesitant and then let the next person in line go forward. This person said "Are you sure?"

"Yes." said the first man, "I'd rather not be served by a retard."

There was a stunned intake of breath by the entire line of people (many of them regulars), all the customers being served and all the cashiers in earshot.... including the cashier in question.

He proceeded to inform the rest of the line (in a normal voice) that he understood that "retards" were working in all sorts of places now, but he "felt uncomfortable" around "them" (Obviously, not because he felt he had to be overly tactful, obviously.) and then launched into some story about some "retard" who work3ed at the grocery store near his house.

My friend was in shock! All the customers who had heard this made a trip to her cash to say what a moron this man was and how shocking it was. In fact, she asked to take a break and spent it up in the lunch room crying.

First of all, she is not Downs Syndrome and bore none of the characteristics of a downs Syndrome person. Nore does she have any mannerisms which might lead one to believe that she might be in any way mentally handicapped. Aside from her being short, round-faced and wearing glasses, there was nothing whatever out of the ordinary about her.

Can you imagine how someone who actually HAD Downs Syndrome might feel if this moron who obviously thought that he was being "tactful" said something like this to them????

I would have liked to corral him outside the store and point out to him who the real "retard" was...

This story (about the customers not wanting to be served by categories of people) really shocks me to the core. Unbelievable! How can people be that incredibly rude, stupid and hostile? There's nothing to top that... Do some people just talk their stream of consciousness without thought of where they are and what they are doing?

My father is a self-proclaimed racist and the most right-winged bigot I know. However, I don't think even he would actually make a scene about being served by coloured people. He probably realises he'd never get served otherwise. He did once have a chuckle at home about how he tricked a coloured shop assistant because she charged him 50p for a pack of three something-or-others, and when he got home he found out that they should have been 50p each.

Perhaps I should have told him about when I was a Saturday girl in the lingerie department and I sold a nightie and negligee set for what turned out to be the price of just the negligee. My boss was pretty cross when she found out! How was I to know that they each had a price tag on them? I bet the customer had a giggle about me when he got home and found the other price tag on the nightie!

Perhaps I've told this tale before, but I remember, too, when I was a Saturday girl, on Sales weekend, two women having a slanging match over one particular article which the one had snatched from under the other's nose.

Determined to get one up on her somehow or other, the one who hadn't managed to get hold of the bargain first shouted right up the stairs so everyone in the shop could hear:

"Anyway, I can b***y swear better than you!"

" How can people be that incredibly rude, stupid and hostile? "



SoRB

Not here Hoo.

Hey, I didn't say anything. This is a thread for comedy, and that was comedy fried gold, my friend. Ah'm jus laffin...

SoRB

A woman came in to my shop the other day who, after I had put her items through, realised that she didn't have enough money in her purse. She tried to say that she needed to get some money out but it was hard to understand her accent. I don't know where she was from, Turkey of Egypt or somewhere like that. She kept saying "I need to get money out" so I told her there was a cashpoint just downstairs. She kept saying no.

Meanwhile a queue of people was forming behind her. She was getting very frustrated and so my colleague stepped in to help. The woman took her to one side and whispered something, indicating that she wanted to go into our staff room. My colleague then came back to me and said that she has got money on her that she needs to "get out". I told her that she would have to use the public lavs - she was not allowed in our staff room.

10 minutes later she came back. I once again put her items through the till and waited for the money. She then handed me a very warm, quite damp, £10 note. I nearly heaved. I took the money, gave her the change and waited until she had left the shop.

Eeeeeewwwww! I was in shock! I was jumping around trying to get the image of where that note had come from out of my head. I ran into the staff room and got some antibacterial wipes from the first-aid kit for my hands!

There's being careful with money and there's being careful...

Geezz...I really didn't need to know that.

This isn't retail, but it's a bit odd nonetheless. During the last summer, I worked as a dishwasher at the Galway Races, which on a sidenote is the only 7-day racing event in Ireland or Britain. Anyway, one day I was happily passing trays of dishes through the machine when two ladies ran into the washup area shouting "wardrobe emergency" and aked desperately if there was a toilet nearby. When we said the nearest one was a little way away, they resumed their shouting and ran out the back. I'm not sure what their problem was, but it seemed that the one's dress had started to fall down and her firned needed to tape it up again.

There used to be this really, really disgusting man who used to come into the bookstore I worked in to buy "Anonymous" books (those "erotic" novels written by Anonymous) he smeeled really gross (I won't even go into what he smelled like) and had some sort of gross skin condition which made his skin peel and fester. One would process his sale and when he was being served by female staff, he would open his briefcase and ask you to put his books in it.

The briefcase was filled with dirty magazines (the kind they sell wrapped in plastic at XXX stores). I used to put his money in under the till tray and as soon as he had left run to the washroom and scrub my hands down. OH... MY... GOD... he was so gross.

Many years later, when I was working in Chapters, someone was talking about "Mr. Mango" (real name) who used to go a store she used to work in and corner the female staff and try and fondle them. He was barred from stores all over the city. One day, she said "OH My God! Mr. Mango is in the store...."

Mr. Mango was the same disgusting man who used to come into our store. I guess I was lucky all he did was hand me money and let me see the contents of his briefcase.....

My skin still crawls when I think about him.

I suffer from eczema myself - I usually keep it controlled and invisible by careful diet and lots of body-lotion. Occasionally I have a bad flare-up and it then often affects my hands which obviously look deeply horrid, all peeling and raw and blistered. So when I was working as a waitress and librarian I would bandage the ookier bits, partly because I felt your average human wouldn't care to be handed their coffee/ books by a red raw claw. On the other hand, I knew another person who also had bad eczema and would sit at the desk waiting for customers PICKING BITS OFF HIS SKIN OFF. Yes, obviously, I picked at my hands, BUT NOT IN PUBLIC. Ergh. So I can see it both ways - yes, ghastly peeling skin is utterly vile to look at, and some people really don't help themselves. But no it isn't catching and it can get a little wearing to have people staring and refusing to touch anything I've touched. And telling me I'm disgusting. Even when bandaged. And once my boss was sure I had burnt myself (repeatedly!) and kept trying to send me to First Aid and possibly to a psychiatrist.

I hasten to add I don't smell and don't collect 'Anonymous' anything. I'd like to think this revolting bookstore haunter of yours would not have revolted you if he'd merely been the unfortunate victim of a skin disease. I do agree the smell and the taste in literature and harrassing of female staff is and inexcusable. (Though there was that time my doctor made me try a tar-based lotion for my eczema. It stank. Sorry sorry sorry. And it didn't work).

This guy didn't smell like tar.... more a pee-based smell...

I certainly don't envy you the eczema. It is a terrible affliction. I wasn't going to mention this but I also had a hotel guest for nearly two months at the hotel I worked at. I finally took over the cleaning of his room because the other staff were so entirely grossed out by it and I would rather do something willingly than to have someone forced to do it.

I know he had this terrible condition but if I had it, I certainly would be more considerate for the people who had to clean up after me and make some effort to do so myself. I won't even go into the details it was so horrific.

This is certainly not a reflection on people with the condition. I think there are some people who, even without the condtition are simply inconsiderate pigs. I can say that there were plenty of guests who were just as disgusting without the excuse of having eczema.

The Panamanian Drug-dealer/Vampire slept all day and was out all night, exposed himself to the sweet little Vietnamese housekeeper, and left the equivalent of a quart of blood on the inside of the freezer when he was finally evicted for the exposing of himself (which, again, it was left to me to clean up.

Mr. Spitty (goes without need for explanation)

The Hairless Lady demonstrated her "complete" hairlessness to the previously mentioned housekeeper, much to her horror.

Mr. and Mrs. Toilet-paper kept complaining that they never had any toilet paper and then I discovered they had been hordeing it. They had a cupboard full of it. They also left the room wet and dirty ever morning.

and last but certainly not least....

The Two Hookers.... who stripped the covers off the bed and used every towel in the room then stood there glaring at the housekeepers while they cleaned the room. Lipstick, nailpolish, and unmentionable fluids all over the sheets. I finally (again) did the room and, as soon as I finished and before I left the room, one of them stripped the bed while glaring at me. The desk wasn't sure they were hookers though all of the housekeepers were. I went right down to the desk and insisted they be kicked out and they were.

Nothing to do with customers (well, except that I was being one at the time) but a REALLY GOOD experience with large supermarket staff today.

Was just nipping round to get some things before coming home and managed to slip on a very small patch of wet floor (smaller that my foot) and crashed on my ar*e. Before I had a chance to get up there was a nice sales assistant being all concerned and asking me if I was OK and running off to get the wet floor sign.

Not something that happens often, and I would just like to thank her properly even though she'll probably never see this. (of course I didn't muster the coherence to say it to her face - mainly cos I'd just fallen on my butt in public)

Zantic

You can always call them back and let them know you are okay, thank them for their concern, and lay at rest any fears that you are going to sue the cr@p out of them.

My Mom cut her ankle very badly at an appliance store (clasp for a storage box had come undone and it sliced her ankle as she went by). Since she is on blood thinners and her skin, like most old folks, is paper-thin, it bled horribly and they were very concerned. We went to the hospital but they said that there wasn't much point in stitching it so they put those paper stitches on and sent her home. They called me later to find out how things were and I am sure that they were concerned that, because it WAS their neglegence, that we would sue. I had to resassure them several times that we had been to the hospital and there was nothing seriously wrong and we were very happy with the attention she had received.

As a matter of fact, when I went there to complete my shopping that had been interrupted, they gave me a substantial discount which, while welcome, wasn't necessary.

The only time I would ever sue over something like that would be if it was a serious injury or one that required an outlay of money, and/or, if it is was clearly their neglegence, they showed no concern over the injury or in correcting the cause.

The local library service in this town has a Book Recovery Officer, whose job it is to take charge when "overdue" becomes "missing stock" (usually three months after expiry of return date) and recover ideally both the books and any outstanding fines, or else the cost of replacing the books if they're missing, and in extreme cases to pursue resolute non-payers to court.

The current custtodienne of the position is a likeable ex-policewoman who used good humour and personality, rather than legal sanction, to get results. She tells a story of one visit she made to a customer's home to retrieve several outstanding library books (in this case the customer had responded to the inquiry letter, apologised because "he'd been ill", and aske if they could be collected.) So off goes Liz the BRO to collect the books, and on arrival, she discovers the common thread linking them is that they are ALL about suicide and euthenasia.

The errant borrower apologised and said that he'd spent time in hospital after his sucide attempt and that if things had gone right, he had no intention of personally returning the books, as he was sure she'd understand... he had no intention of theft or defrauding the council, just that he vaguely thought somebody else would have taken them back after he successfully topped himself using the ideas gleaned from the books on suicide he'd taken out of the local library...

Liz thanked him for being public-spiritied enough to return the books, and beat a hasty retreat...

Geez!