1) From the WTF File: First person I dealt with yesterday: woman who apparently believed I was blind. She kept pointing to the bottom of her cart and yelling "That! Down there!" I said, "OK" each time, and continued doing my job. This went on for several minutes, until she finally said, "THAT! DOWN! THERE!" and since I was to the point where I was going to deal with "that! down there" anyway, I did just that. As I'm giving her the total, she says, "You must be new; I haven't used you before."
2) From the For The Record File: the 2nd gate is closed. There are no bodies--live, or stupid--near the registers near that closed gate...that means that those registers aren't open. Plunking all your crap onto the counter, and standing there watching as the cashier who are at the open registers collect money from others SHOULD be a clue that you're in the wrong line. But since it's not, continuing to stand there, and loudly saying, "I'M READY NOW" just makes us all certain that what you're ready for is a Reality Check.
3) From the Do I Look Like Miss Cleo? File: I don't read minds. The other people who work here don't read minds, either. When you tell me "Pine Bark Mini Nuggets." and you are blathering about how you need mulch, there's a 100% chance of you getting Pine Bark Mini Nuggets, regardless of what you're thinking you need. Actually speaking the real name of what you need helps others know what it is, exactly, you need. Shoving someone else out of the way as you stomp up to me because YOU couldn't be bothered to sort out your deranged thoughts before paying me, is not going to make you my priority. In this particular instance, I'm very glad I can't read minds, because I'm guessing yours is a very very scary place to be.
4) From the Don't Drink Your Lunch & Then Come See Me File: Since there were two of you yesterday, I liked the woman who just didn't seem to really know where she was or what she was doing far better than the red-faced guy who was talking louder isn't going to make you slur your words less. Asking every person you see the same question, regardless of how many times you've shouted it before, still makes you obnoxious. Switching questions every 5th person (no, they don't all work here) doesn't help, either.
5) I can tell it's the Full Moon because they all want to stand right up next to me--totally in my personal space, leaning in, breathing heavily. Ewwwww.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Classic
The AC in the Gator's car isn't working properly. It doesn't get cold enough--or rather, it gets slightly cool, but not really cold.
She took it to the dealer, who checked and re-checked...nope. Nothing's wrong, there's nothing to fix. "Sorry that the little light didn't come on for you, it light up just fine for us."
Finally, the guys at the shop got it to work.
They showed her how to actually push the button in, instead of just tap it. (and, I'm sure, they added a mental "DUH" after her name in their appointment book.)
She took it to the dealer, who checked and re-checked...nope. Nothing's wrong, there's nothing to fix. "Sorry that the little light didn't come on for you, it light up just fine for us."
Finally, the guys at the shop got it to work.
They showed her how to actually push the button in, instead of just tap it. (and, I'm sure, they added a mental "DUH" after her name in their appointment book.)
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Garbage Day
Today was..................interesting.
And it was Garbage Day.
I've noticed lately that the one little freaklet they hired this spring, on top of being really weird in a creepy, unattached to this reality kind of way, is also rooting through the garbage cans.
I don't know why. I don't want to know why.
And, this morning, one of the very first non employees I encountered said, "I've noticed that you have some plants in the garbage can. Can I have them?"
Er, uh, No.
And it was Garbage Day.
I've noticed lately that the one little freaklet they hired this spring, on top of being really weird in a creepy, unattached to this reality kind of way, is also rooting through the garbage cans.
I don't know why. I don't want to know why.
And, this morning, one of the very first non employees I encountered said, "I've noticed that you have some plants in the garbage can. Can I have them?"
Er, uh, No.
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
Not Funny Really, But It's Really Funny
Today was really fricking HOT! It's still really fricking HOT!
My Sweetie says, "I'm gonna call the fam. I worry about my old people in the heat."
I sez, "Yeah, well, I do too, but if you'd just remember to put out an extra bowl of cold water and add ice cubes, they usually do okay."
He sez, "My old people aren't as bitchy as your old people."
I sez, "Yeah, that'd be why I don't always give mine ice."
Funny isn't always nice, yanno.
My Sweetie says, "I'm gonna call the fam. I worry about my old people in the heat."
I sez, "Yeah, well, I do too, but if you'd just remember to put out an extra bowl of cold water and add ice cubes, they usually do okay."
He sez, "My old people aren't as bitchy as your old people."
I sez, "Yeah, that'd be why I don't always give mine ice."
Funny isn't always nice, yanno.
Thursday, June 02, 2011
Inanimate Objects Are Dumber Than They Appear
So saith the Mumple.
At work, every Spring, they hire a new crop of morons. Usually, there's one or two bright spots--the ones who won't last because they're smart enough to get out quickly--and a whole slew of jerkoffs and idiots.
This year, we have a rousing crew: the ex-teacher who believes that it's okay to not do any work; the former LPN who thinks we're all stupider than her (HAH!); the Turnip, and the Ostrich.
I'm also adding the Cow, who has worked there almost as long as I have, but is currently riding my ass harder than a Pony Express boy being chased by the Comanches.
Those who have former professions refuse to acknowledge that they're new here, and they also refuse to accept than anyone less than a store manager could possibly have anything to teach them. Assholes. The former Florence Nightingale has been to management twice about me--and the hell of it is, I don't even fucking talk to her, or even stand near her. The bitch.
The Ostrich--he's about 7 feet tall, with his panties hanging out, and spends a lot of his time with his eyes bugged out of his head, looking around jerkily, much like the little birdies who frequent the garden center. He is every day of 18 years old, and has already proven he's dumber than the guy whose vocabulary consists of shoulder shrugs and grunts. At least the Grunt manages to find the building when he's scheduled. He also thinks that, being this stupid AND being this new, means that he's qualified to help another cashier if there's an issue, like an asshole customer with a gripe about a price. He can't figure out how to use the phone (yes, I hate to admit it, but he's dumber than Smiley, too) I've personally showed him how to look up an item number at least 300 times...and each and every time, he says, "Oh, I didn't know that."
And if I didn't find the Ostrich annoying as fuck, they now send me the Turnip. The Turnip starts getting on my nerves by being fidgety with the metal kiosk the register resides in. That hinge isn't made to be swung back and forth for upwards of 10 minutes at a time... I fixed that problem by walking over, telling him to watch his head, pulling it out, folding it up and shoving it in where he can't swing it anymore. Then, he spends his entire 8 hour shift, huddled up behind the register--by huddled up, I mean he's making himself nearly invisible there. He watches as upwards of 5 customers line up at my register, and watches from a safe distance as I have to ring up each and every one of them. He refuses to move from immediately behind the register.
Of the 15 or so people they've hired, all but 3 or 4 of them have the amazing ability to become invisible. They stand, mostly behind but not quite near the register, and watch. They watch customers line up. They watch others sweep. They watch us move carts out of the aisles. They don't retain any information about where things are in the garden center, the store, the world.
We (those of us who have spent the past several years out there by ourselves) have figured out that if we put these people on the busiest registers, lines don't move as quickly, but they move. And everyone can be busy, because customers can sense the aura of stupidity on these, and get help from those of us who actually know something, and have the language skills to communicate with them.
My favoritest part of the past two weeks was being out there, and having the supervisor of the day (who was not the Cow) say, "I want you and you on these two busiest registers. I want lines to move." Then, we got to run register and answer questions and do everything ourselves anyway. Instead of using the system that we know works, and you know, have it actually work. (and in the process having these people do the "sink or swim" thing.)
I tried to explain that she might as well send those others back inside, since she was effectively cutting off my nose to spite her face. She snapped, "Well, let's try it my way today." So I snapped, "Oh, yes, of course, I wouldn't know a fucking thing about what would actually work out here!" For the better part of three hours, then, I referred every question, every issue, every problem to her...and whatever she said, I responded with, "of course. I wouldn't know, would I?" She's also on a jag where she constantly telling me to "be nice" as if my being nice would make these people smarter.
I really think I'm getting senile, 'cuz I actually thought that when they scheduled more than one of us at the same time out there, that it'd actually mean there'd be help--you know, that they'd have the newbies who aren't afraid of the phone, the customers, and the register out there.
It's like having indoor plumbing and still pissing outside in your yard.
At work, every Spring, they hire a new crop of morons. Usually, there's one or two bright spots--the ones who won't last because they're smart enough to get out quickly--and a whole slew of jerkoffs and idiots.
This year, we have a rousing crew: the ex-teacher who believes that it's okay to not do any work; the former LPN who thinks we're all stupider than her (HAH!); the Turnip, and the Ostrich.
I'm also adding the Cow, who has worked there almost as long as I have, but is currently riding my ass harder than a Pony Express boy being chased by the Comanches.
Those who have former professions refuse to acknowledge that they're new here, and they also refuse to accept than anyone less than a store manager could possibly have anything to teach them. Assholes. The former Florence Nightingale has been to management twice about me--and the hell of it is, I don't even fucking talk to her, or even stand near her. The bitch.
The Ostrich--he's about 7 feet tall, with his panties hanging out, and spends a lot of his time with his eyes bugged out of his head, looking around jerkily, much like the little birdies who frequent the garden center. He is every day of 18 years old, and has already proven he's dumber than the guy whose vocabulary consists of shoulder shrugs and grunts. At least the Grunt manages to find the building when he's scheduled. He also thinks that, being this stupid AND being this new, means that he's qualified to help another cashier if there's an issue, like an asshole customer with a gripe about a price. He can't figure out how to use the phone (yes, I hate to admit it, but he's dumber than Smiley, too) I've personally showed him how to look up an item number at least 300 times...and each and every time, he says, "Oh, I didn't know that."
And if I didn't find the Ostrich annoying as fuck, they now send me the Turnip. The Turnip starts getting on my nerves by being fidgety with the metal kiosk the register resides in. That hinge isn't made to be swung back and forth for upwards of 10 minutes at a time... I fixed that problem by walking over, telling him to watch his head, pulling it out, folding it up and shoving it in where he can't swing it anymore. Then, he spends his entire 8 hour shift, huddled up behind the register--by huddled up, I mean he's making himself nearly invisible there. He watches as upwards of 5 customers line up at my register, and watches from a safe distance as I have to ring up each and every one of them. He refuses to move from immediately behind the register.
Of the 15 or so people they've hired, all but 3 or 4 of them have the amazing ability to become invisible. They stand, mostly behind but not quite near the register, and watch. They watch customers line up. They watch others sweep. They watch us move carts out of the aisles. They don't retain any information about where things are in the garden center, the store, the world.
We (those of us who have spent the past several years out there by ourselves) have figured out that if we put these people on the busiest registers, lines don't move as quickly, but they move. And everyone can be busy, because customers can sense the aura of stupidity on these, and get help from those of us who actually know something, and have the language skills to communicate with them.
My favoritest part of the past two weeks was being out there, and having the supervisor of the day (who was not the Cow) say, "I want you and you on these two busiest registers. I want lines to move." Then, we got to run register and answer questions and do everything ourselves anyway. Instead of using the system that we know works, and you know, have it actually work. (and in the process having these people do the "sink or swim" thing.)
I tried to explain that she might as well send those others back inside, since she was effectively cutting off my nose to spite her face. She snapped, "Well, let's try it my way today." So I snapped, "Oh, yes, of course, I wouldn't know a fucking thing about what would actually work out here!" For the better part of three hours, then, I referred every question, every issue, every problem to her...and whatever she said, I responded with, "of course. I wouldn't know, would I?" She's also on a jag where she constantly telling me to "be nice" as if my being nice would make these people smarter.
I really think I'm getting senile, 'cuz I actually thought that when they scheduled more than one of us at the same time out there, that it'd actually mean there'd be help--you know, that they'd have the newbies who aren't afraid of the phone, the customers, and the register out there.
It's like having indoor plumbing and still pissing outside in your yard.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Digging It
This OF comes to the register. He asks about the prices of the plants he's brought. One has the necessary yellow sticker, so it's going to be reduced. The rest don't have that sticker, so, er, uh, NO, they ain't.
He keeps telling me that they were all on "that shelf." Which isn't helpful, because they've got no sticker, and no black line through the UPC code. They also don't look distressed, so I'm not going to mark 'em down. No matter what he tells me.
He doesn't want 'em then. Of course.
I tell him his total, sans the non-discounted plants. He reaches into his pocket...
He's elbow deep, swaying forward and back, leaning into the counter...
There's no jingly noise that would indicate that there's change in that pocket. I'm getting nervous about he's doing...he's still digging on whatever it is.
His face is contorting and the full body movements he's making are starting to get, uhm, well, odd. It's not a seizure.
At this point, I'm pretty far along the nervous about what I'm witnessing. And I'm quite honestly afraid of what he's going to try to hand me when he finally completes whatever it is he's doing.
I'll never complain about the leg humpers again.
He keeps telling me that they were all on "that shelf." Which isn't helpful, because they've got no sticker, and no black line through the UPC code. They also don't look distressed, so I'm not going to mark 'em down. No matter what he tells me.
He doesn't want 'em then. Of course.
I tell him his total, sans the non-discounted plants. He reaches into his pocket...
He's elbow deep, swaying forward and back, leaning into the counter...
There's no jingly noise that would indicate that there's change in that pocket. I'm getting nervous about he's doing...he's still digging on whatever it is.
His face is contorting and the full body movements he's making are starting to get, uhm, well, odd. It's not a seizure.
At this point, I'm pretty far along the nervous about what I'm witnessing. And I'm quite honestly afraid of what he's going to try to hand me when he finally completes whatever it is he's doing.
I'll never complain about the leg humpers again.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
I'm Baaa-aaack
Whether you like it or not.
So, the garden center is open and we're having spring-like weather on Thursdays.
The rain and cold are not slowing down the foot traffic, but it is, yet again, inspiring these morons to complain about how wet it is. DUH.
I also like the 3 people yesterday who walked into the open-air, no-roof, not-inside-a-building garden center and proclaimed, "WOW! It's warmer in here!" I suppose these are the people who think that a Quarter Pounder with Cheese is nutrious because there's tomato and cheese on it (that's 3 food groups!)
Sweet niblets.
My rant today is actually about this woman I work with--my current manager. I'm not gonna go into the entire history between us, but we'll just say that pre-Lowes, she was a pig who dated the jackass I was engaged to. (Yes, I owe her, in part, with dodging that bullet, but that's sooo not the point.)
Anyway, after slightly more than 11 years, we've both grown up and gotten over it. BUT, lately, she's really riding my ass, nit-picking how I do my job.
I have spent the last 5 years (maybe more, they all just bleed together) out in the garden center, BY MYSELF, doing my job. For 6 days of the year, they'd schedule a 2nd (but only a 2nd) person out there with me. And on at least 4 of those 6 days, they'd pull that 2nd person back INSIDE the store, because somebody needed to straighten light bulbs. No matter how busy we were, or what was exploding, I was out there, effectively, by myself, running that register.
Now, suddenly, this year, they're actually scheduling upwards of 4 cashiers, even on weekdays. Even when it rains. (we won't even discuss how there's no register tape anywhere in the building for that 4th register, so it doesn't matter if we have people to run it or not, it's not going to work)
They're opening the 2nd gate on the weekends, when we're at our busiest. They've fixed the EAS--the alarm thing that goes off when high theft items don't get their little security tags deactivated. That thing hasn't worked right since about 3 weeks after it was installed, and VIOLA! It now works.
They also keep coming out and telling me that I have to turn in all the scan books because they're not complete. I keep telling them that they ARE complete, they're just not all falling out of the warped and ineffective binders we've had since the store opened. I refuse to give them the books. (and, ftr, I've been asking for new binders for at least 3 years)
I keep telling them they need to come out when I'm there--not because I'm a control freak, but because then I can show them that I have those dayumed books ready to go, usable, and since I split them, we don't have to spend valuable customer service time trying to shove 'em all back together. Idiots.
Oh, my rant. The original one, I mean: this manager sow is now choosing to be the one standing at the open double gates. She spends her time telling me to "mind your own business and run your register."
So guess what! This coming weekend, I will be doing just exactly that. Whatever the customer is asking me, regardless of whether it's "where are the perennials" or "do you have...." I'm going to refer them to her. I am going to do nothing more, and nothing less than run my register.
SHE can have all the freaks, weirdos, idiots, retards, and leg humpers. And the grumps, the whiners, and the annoyers. Every fucking one of them!
Hope she enjoys being manager then.
So, the garden center is open and we're having spring-like weather on Thursdays.
The rain and cold are not slowing down the foot traffic, but it is, yet again, inspiring these morons to complain about how wet it is. DUH.
I also like the 3 people yesterday who walked into the open-air, no-roof, not-inside-a-building garden center and proclaimed, "WOW! It's warmer in here!" I suppose these are the people who think that a Quarter Pounder with Cheese is nutrious because there's tomato and cheese on it (that's 3 food groups!)
Sweet niblets.
My rant today is actually about this woman I work with--my current manager. I'm not gonna go into the entire history between us, but we'll just say that pre-Lowes, she was a pig who dated the jackass I was engaged to. (Yes, I owe her, in part, with dodging that bullet, but that's sooo not the point.)
Anyway, after slightly more than 11 years, we've both grown up and gotten over it. BUT, lately, she's really riding my ass, nit-picking how I do my job.
I have spent the last 5 years (maybe more, they all just bleed together) out in the garden center, BY MYSELF, doing my job. For 6 days of the year, they'd schedule a 2nd (but only a 2nd) person out there with me. And on at least 4 of those 6 days, they'd pull that 2nd person back INSIDE the store, because somebody needed to straighten light bulbs. No matter how busy we were, or what was exploding, I was out there, effectively, by myself, running that register.
Now, suddenly, this year, they're actually scheduling upwards of 4 cashiers, even on weekdays. Even when it rains. (we won't even discuss how there's no register tape anywhere in the building for that 4th register, so it doesn't matter if we have people to run it or not, it's not going to work)
They're opening the 2nd gate on the weekends, when we're at our busiest. They've fixed the EAS--the alarm thing that goes off when high theft items don't get their little security tags deactivated. That thing hasn't worked right since about 3 weeks after it was installed, and VIOLA! It now works.
They also keep coming out and telling me that I have to turn in all the scan books because they're not complete. I keep telling them that they ARE complete, they're just not all falling out of the warped and ineffective binders we've had since the store opened. I refuse to give them the books. (and, ftr, I've been asking for new binders for at least 3 years)
I keep telling them they need to come out when I'm there--not because I'm a control freak, but because then I can show them that I have those dayumed books ready to go, usable, and since I split them, we don't have to spend valuable customer service time trying to shove 'em all back together. Idiots.
Oh, my rant. The original one, I mean: this manager sow is now choosing to be the one standing at the open double gates. She spends her time telling me to "mind your own business and run your register."
So guess what! This coming weekend, I will be doing just exactly that. Whatever the customer is asking me, regardless of whether it's "where are the perennials" or "do you have...." I'm going to refer them to her. I am going to do nothing more, and nothing less than run my register.
SHE can have all the freaks, weirdos, idiots, retards, and leg humpers. And the grumps, the whiners, and the annoyers. Every fucking one of them!
Hope she enjoys being manager then.
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