Dogs, coupons and fans

I had a crap few days. I'm sick again, thus all my physical defenses are at low ebb. And Sunday and Monday were the days from hell.

I get in Sunday night and the place was a disaster. Nine people called off on Sunday morning and everybody was on a register. Managers were "quote/unquote" running the floor. What this meant was that nobody got their breaks from 8 a.m. until 2 p.m. Some of the girls had been on the register for FIVE FREAKING HOURS without a break at all. One poor thing came up to me later complaining and she literally looked like she was going to wilt. Those managers don't care about anything but money. Shovel the customers through. The staff are just cogs in a money machine.

Monday, if you can imagine, was worse, even though I was only there for five and a half hours.

1. This nutjob came in with a dog. DOGS ARE NOT ALLOWED. The door greeter stops him. He argues. I get the call. "Sir, I can't allow you to bring the animal into the store." "But the other Wal-Mart let me bring her in." (Which I highly doubt, but anyway.) "Sir, you can't take the animal into the store."

Then it gets good. He wants the door greeter to watch the dog while he shops. UM, no. We can't be responsible for some dog. What if it went apeshit and started acting a fool? So I explain this. He doesn't take kindly.

So he holds the dog up. "Get a good picture of her." Ok, I'm envisioning Pixie, as I come to find out she's called." "Have you got a good picture?" "Now go out and get me a dog bed for her." YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FREAKING KIDDING ME!

I tell him to go to the other door, because it is nearer to pets, and then I go to pets, get three dog bets and take them back to him. He doesn't like those three. F*****! I get three more. Pixie likes one of those. And then I have to hold the dog while he goes to pay.

2. And then the coupons. One of our best cashiers out in Garden just forgot to scan some coupons. The customer blew up because they don't understand that the you can't just scan the coupon and then give them the three dollars. The product has to match EXACTLY. If the product has not been scanned, no coupon allowed. Also, we don't allow the girls to scan coupons unless they're in a sale anyway. They'd sit there and scan coupons all day and put the money in their pockets. We'd be robbed blind.

Anyway. This lady is exploding over three coupons that total up to three dollars and screaming at the girl, who's trying to explain that she CANNOT open up the register and that she made a mistake. God knows, we all make mistakes.

I explain why you have to have a supervisor to give the money on coupons after the sale is over, and why the girl couldn't help her after the sale was over. And I gave here the three dollars. And I promised to "coach" this allegedly "incompetent" cashier. Jeez. Just because the girl is Haitian doesn't mean she is stupid. She's very bright and was just promoted to run the Garden registers full-time because we trust her with the responsibility. But all this sturm und drang over three dollars in coupons. And this woman had on $400 in clothes. I don't get people sometimes.

3. And the fan. This old bird in a wheelchair, who is in the store ALL the time, like every other day it seems, and is always complaining about something and who returns stuff left and right, wanted a fan. Except she wanted a white fan with white blades that were 42 inches long. Now, fans are in Hardware, which only has two sales associates at the moment, so it is terminally understaffed.

So I go over to hardware. On the way there, she whizzes by a shelf in her little wheelchair cart and sends stuff flying all over the place. I stay behind her after that. I could just see the headlines. "Wal-Mart employee killed in tragic cart mishap"

Anyway. She dithers over these fans for 45 minutes. "I want this one." "Is there one like this but with these things on it?" "I don't like this shiny brass. Is there one with dull brass?" And I got to hear about the problems with her electrician. And about how her woodwork doesn't match. And how small the space was. And why she didn't want a 52-inch fan. Only a 42-inch fan. She nattered on. And on. And on. I grinned and bore it. It must have been for some uncommitted sin.

Alls I know is that I better get laid soon, because I've taken enough crap off customers this past week for a lifetime of sin. And it is just midweek.