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

All Right!

We sometimes forget that we aren't in our uniform at another store. When the clerk who is being sh@t upon is powerless to say anything it is time for someone else to step up to the plate.

Chapters, for all their failures was (they are now owned by Indigo) always ready to turf a "customer" out who used racial slurs. We had a girl of East-Indian ancestry who worked in our store, and one of the first days we were open this woman wanted "someone who was not a smelly Black person" to help her then went on to ask why anyone would hire Blacks as "they are very, very stupid"..... We were shocked beyond belief. The woman was asked to leave. She started to make a fuss, at which point the GM took her arm and forcibly ejected her. She tried to come back in but was given a trespass warning.

Sexual harrrassment was also not tolerated, though sometimes staff were too embarrassed to report it. Both female and male staff were harrasses or even assaulted by both sexes of "customer".

On the other hand, we had several cases of stalkers who were harrassing staff members that the GM was reluctant to address. Most of the staff who were stalked eventually left because of it.

One particular female staff member was being harrassed by a man who always made an effort not to be seen by other staff members when he was harrassing her. She would be in tears when she called the GM to tell him that the man terrified her. Still he would do nothing. "Try politely telling him you aren't interested" was his suggestion.

I finally went to the Staff Manager and sat down with him and said that my friend was going to quit that day if someone didn't do something to help her. It wasn't fair that she should have to leave because the GM was worried about "offending" someone who never bought anything and who could poteltially attack my friend.

I said that there was no reason why she should not feel safe at her job and reminded him that if she did quit, shecould very well have grounds for sueing Chapters.

Fifteen minutes later, the stalker was charged by the police, the GM apologised to the clerk and came to every one of the employees individually to talk about it and to apologise to them for not having acted sooner.

There were other situations, including someone who I was particularily afraid of who were not dealt with so quickly. In the case of the one who I was afraid of, he continued to come into the store for 2 years despite having a trespass order against him. He blamed me for his having been trhown out of the store after having stolen about $1000 worth of internet cards. I was there, but had nothing to do with it.

He would come up to my department and stand in the archway (only one way in or out) and glare menacingly at me. When I called for assistance, no one would come, but he would have scarpered (finally, we got a emergency code to call out on the PA and people came fast). When I would call a manager and say... "He has been tresspassed" they would say that they didn't know and couldn't do anything unless they were sure.

One day I came into work and was told that he had been caught in the washroom with a large knife, cutting himself and drinking his blood.... The security guard merely threw him out. One of the fimal days I was working there, a customer called me over to where there was a "problem". I made the security call and went to investigate.

A man was standing inside the store, facing the window onto the street, with his pants to his ankles either getting ready to pee or simply "airing himself". I yelled "Pull your pants up and get out!" He turned around (sans pants) and I found myself face-to-face with my "friend"..... He was escorted to the door, but despite the trespass order, nothing more was done.

That was pretty well when I decided to leave Chapters.

Have you ever seen 'The Big Lebowski' with Jeff Bridges and John Goodman? Do you remember the scene at the bowling alley where John Goodman tells a bowler that he stepped over the line, has a big argument, and eventually pulls a gun on him? I had to face someone as big and as angry as John Goodman's character one night, although thankfully he didn't have a firearm (but hell, this is Texas - you never know).

Long story short, he wanted his money back for a cd which a friend had bought - this friend wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, and had left without the credit slip I'd already made out for him. After trying to explain the situation to him, after suggesting that I call the cops and being told "Go ahead, they know who I am, and I guarantee I'll have beaten you to a pulp before they get here", I gave him the purchase price of the cd and then took down all the signs that say 'Absolutely no refunds'.

Next day, the store owner comes in and I relate the whole story to him. His reaction was that he was still going to put back the 'No refunds' signs because "I'd have everyone coming in, buying cd's, taking them home to burn, then coming back and asking for a refund. I'm not going to do that."

That's the closest I've come yet to quitting this job, but I really don't want to, for many reasons.

The local tax office over-stamped a new telephone number on old stationary and the result looked very like my telephone number. I started getting loads (and load and loads) of 'phone calls from people with tax problems. It was almost impossible to stop people telling me all about their finances, inability to pay or whatever..... When it started I didn't know about the 'phone number mistake but I would try to explain that I was nothing to do with the tax office.... "But you're the one I've got to call, you see I paid my tax.....".
Remember the calls were basically from people living in my area and would surely have been very upset to find they were giving me this kind of information about themselves.
I informed the tax people who didn't seem to care at all to put it mildly ("We'll that's not OUR fault, what do expect US to do ....." -- err, change the rubber stamp). Not having an answering machine, I would pick up my 'phone saying "THIS IS NOT the tax office, their number is.....".
Some people would *still* try to convince me that they had excellant reasons for their tax problems.....
Despite the temptation, I never did tell anyone to not bother paying or to give the money to charity.
As I wasn't at home too much in the daytime for some time afterwards, I assume I left of happy tax-payers complaining out those people to laxy to answer the 'phone.

BTW : I'm still intrigued by post 87 about a self-serve gas station, i.e. "occasionally someone would wedge the nozzle open with their gas tank cap, which is against the law. The maximum fines ...."
As I was putting petrol in my car today (in Europe as you've probably guessed), I was trying to figure out what part of the nozzle you could wedge and indeed why you would want to do it anyway. As it involves fines, it must be a tempting trick so why and how is it done exactly? I'd love to know, can anyone help?

In Europe when we pump petrol, there is a catch which means you can hook this over the trigger or whatever it's called and stand with your hands in your pockets while you're filling the tank.

Perhaps this is not available over there and people do it all the same, by wedging the lid inside the grip of the pump. Funny isn't it, it's illegal there, and here you get a little mechanical device to help you do it.

I've even started a "Going Crazy! Do you know anything about gas caps" thread. The same device for "locking" the flow exists in the US... so I'm waiting for someone from Canada (where the writer of the incident lives) to tell me more....

I LOVE the movie "The Big Lebowski"! The John Goodman character is hilarious. I loved the scene at the end when they were sprinkling the ashes.

Those sudden off-shore breezes. nasty.

Here they have some sort of mechanism that if you pull on the trigger, it will allow you to walk away from the pump while it is filling.... really it is the same as "full-serve" stations have on their pumps.

Having said that, I can NEVER get the damn thing to work. I actually will go out of my way not to use self-serve or get my mother to pump the gas. Perhaps it looks odd to have me sitting in the car while my 78-year-old mother pumps the gas. Frankly, it takes 1/2 as long for her to do it that me.

A note about "gas jockeys": I find most of them to be really nice. I rarely see one who is surly and they must get a lot of a$$holes. Perhaps it is because they get a lot of fresh air or something (or perhaps it is breathing all those gas fumes...).

There are actually a couple of very funny "ash sprinkling" scenes in movies.

I recall one where people were dumping ashes off a boat and, of course came back covered in ashes. Served them all right, too, they were all fighting about the will and everything. I suspect the deceased planned it in the way he did so that they would all end up inhaling him.

The other good one is in the movie "Riff Raff" with Robert Carlyle. His mother dies and he goes back home for the funeral. His mother is cremated and at the "sprinkling" service afterwards the family gets in a huge fight over the "sprinkling can" and end up getting turfed out of the crematorium.

I was just thinking that people who work in the funeral industry must have some pretty funny/strange stories.

When I worked security at Humber College, I used to have part of my patrol in the Funeral Arts Department.

In those days you turned keys to prove you had patrolled a certain area. One of the keys was at the end of the Funeral Arts loading dock. That was where they stored the examples of coffins from around the world. They were all stood on end along the edge of the loading dock. Every movie about security guards and funeral homes would come to mind as you walked through the area with only your flashlight for light.

One night I walked by the cooler where they kept the bodies they used for learning with. The cooler door was always padlocked. However, on this particular night, the cooler door was not only NOT locked, the door was ajar. As it was my job to investigate something so obviously out of the ordinary, I steeled myself for looking inside. The light switch was on the inside, so I had to stick my arm inside to switch it on....... I flipped on the switch and peeked inside. It was empty to my enormous relief.

Apparently, when it was not in use, it was cleaned and aired out.

More on the gas nozzles...

In Ontario, at least the last time I read the Gasoline Handling Act (when you work the Sunday evening shift in a self-serve gas station, you'll read anything in site), it was illegal for nozzles with devices to hold them opened to be on self-serve pumps. They're only allowed on full-serve pumps.

Well.... THAT may explain my difficulty when pumping gas!

For Gordon:

Thank you, thank you.....

hhhmmm, now is Canada/Ontario the only place that prohibits the use of trigger locks on self-serve pumps....

Probably not. I suspect there must be other places where you can't do this. I'm trying to remember whether the nozzles in New York state that I've used has trigger locks and I honestly don't remember.

And you occasionally find a self-serve hose with a trigger lock on it in Ontario, but you shouldn't.

In queensland Australia all petrol bowsers have trigger locks and you punch in the ammount of fuel you want,go in and pay, when you come back, bingo fuel is in tank. We have been self serve for a long time. Full service is usually only in the really small towns

Hel2

Interegued by the thought of full service petrol stations. I've never actually seen one all we got in my part of Scotland (and now England) are self service places.

You can always tell the new drivers filling their tanks for the first time (me included) haven't got a clue! This also occurs for people with new cars etc....you'd think that, seeing as how it is an essential part of owning a car, people would show you HOW to do it!??!

OK, here's one.

When I was working at the supermarket a man and a woman burst into the shop, having an extremely loud argument. They stumbled to the opposite end of the shop to me and I could still hear them clearly. Eventually they both had to go up to the managers office to sort things out.

It turned out that they didn't know each other. What had happened was that the man was trying to park in the only space left in our car park when the woman nipped in in front of him in her car. Well, the red mist obviously descended and the man simply drove into the back of her car! He just rammed it. Then they both got out and their argument eventually ended up in the jam isle. How funny. Best thing that had happened to me all day.

Wonder if he'd been watching 'Fried Green Tomatoes'

TUWAANDAAAAAAA!!!

Queegle

I've worked in retail for four years, initially as a way to sustain my habit while at uni

I work for a reasonably well known UK store selling clothes aimed at the larger lady. Yip, I sell clothes for fat birds. Bit of a bugger considering I'm a fat bird as well, so I never have any cash at the end of the month

Silly customers:

"I'm not buying that! It's not the right size!" The garment of course fits perfectly, but she refuses to admit to herself that she's a size 24, and not the 18 she insisted she was

The poor guy who had to bring back the pyjamas that his other half had bought. They were a lovely deep purple satin, and the seam had split right down the back of the trouser part. Okay, so it happens, he has the receipt, and I offer a refund or replacement for him. Apparently the lady wanted another pair, so I go get a pair in the same size as the ones being returned, process it all and we all go on our way. Next week, same shift, same guy, same problem. Without even engaging brain cell, I ask the poor sod if his girlfriend was sure she'd got the right size originally as it was odd to have the same thing happen twice. It took a bit of back pedalling, but he just grinned and said "she says she's that size". We decided on a refund and hoped that maybe she'd get a nightie next time

It was a saturday, and I was trying to get tidied up with the other bods on the shopfloor, my shift was due to inish in 15 minutes. A lady comes in wanting shoes. Not a problem. I like selling shoes in our place. If we didn't already have a shoe girl, I'd apply for the job Anyway, the lady in question is a size 10. Slightly problematic. She says she's been in already (before my shift started) and that we didn't have the style she wanted in a 10, and was there any way that I could get hold of a pair for her. I said I'd do my best, asked her to take a seat, took the style number and pottered off to ring round for a bit. Of the three stores in our area, not one had the shoe in a size 10, but I had managed to get hold of a chap at the warehouse, and he'd located a pair and was going to send them to us int he next delivery. Sorted. I took the lady's details so we could ring her when they arrived. She seemed happy enough and went on her way. My shift finishes, but because it was so close to Christmas sale and I needed to stay in town for an extra hour anyway, I stayed back to help the shoe girl get her shoe cupboard in order because there was a lot to do. I'm happily sat on the floor in all my pregnant glory, writing out sale tags and listing all the reductions we needed to do, when I got a shout from the front of the store. I waddled out to find out that the lady had only gone to the other dtore inthe city asked them if they had a ten, and made them ring us to see if we had them because I hadn't looked in the cupboard. I related the fact that she had said another assistant had looked earlier in the day for her, and was told that the lady denied this, and was irritated by my lack of care for her. I spent 15 goddamn minutes on the phone for her after she told me she knew we didn't have the shoe! Eejit! I told all this to the person on the phone, and explained in my most polite way that she (the customer) could come and have it out with me herself if she wanted to refute it! We never heard anything funnily enough.



Irritating customers:

We have a couple of regulars. One of them is Mrs V. She rritates the hell out of me. She always tries to be ingratiating, wants things putting away forever and is generally a pain in the backside. She never collects the things we put aside, and if she orders anything that also languishes in the hell of our stockroom. There are several such customers who seem to have the same disregard for us and our time. I avoid them if I can (We do have some lovely regulars as well, just so you don't think I'm whingeing too much)

The woman who had ordered six items in two different sizes from our home shopping catalogue, and wanted to return them all instore. At lunchtime. On a Saturday.

I can hear you laughing already.

To process a HS return we need to check the return slips the customer has against the tags on the garments, then we need to process them through the till and get the customer to sign many little bits of paper and define the probblem withthe product. All this is so the store can recoup the pennies back from the HS people. Atthe best of times it's a pain to do, but on a Saturday lunchtime with a queue and an impatient customer it was a recipe for disaster.

In order to get the refund done as quickly as possible I get Emma over to help me. As I was checking tags against slips, she was putting them through the till. Another colleague, Katy, came over to explain what was going on, and to keep the customer pacified. Apparentoy she was in a rush and hadn't kown it was going to take so long. Katy pointed out for future reference that if she had wanted to, she could have had the garments collected by courier, as it was a service offered to customers of the HS catalogue. This was done in a very polite manner, and was seemingly well received.

After about 10 minutes, we got everything through the till, all bits of paper were signed, boxes ticked and pennies refunded. We heave a sigh of releif, Emma goes back on fitting room, and I go back to selling things.

30 minutes later the customer is back. The store is quieter and she demands to see the manager. I inform her that the manager is on lunch, but if she wouldn't mind waiting a couple of seconds, I'd check if she was on the premises. She nodded so I legged it upstairs and told Jo (manager) that there was a lady waiting, and she was upset about something, probably the return. She goes down to see the lady, then comes to me and asks me to send Katy to see her in the office. Katy was busy with a customer, so I told Emma to let her know she was wanted, instead Emma went and explained to Jo what had 'actually' happened. Apparently the customer had insisted she was given bad service, was kept waiting for half an hour, and we deliberately made the transaction take too long. We (Emma and I) had ignored her and Katy had been insolent.

I suppose it's what you get for trying your best

I also managed to work for an entire three weeks on a call-centre desk dealing with ISP sign up and migration issues. I'm still traumatised