Cheetah Cheeto Momma and the computer that wouldn't turn on

We're changing things up today. The raw material for today's story of unacceptable customer stupidity, fashion tragedies, howler monkey mayhem and Wal-Martian managerial prowess comes from a reader and fellow Wal-Mart associate - Blue-Vested Canary - who sends dispatches from the frozen northlands of Canada. Many thanks.

As originally told to bbcamerican by Blue-Vested Canary. All flights of fancy, literary inventions and mistakes herein and forthwith are mine.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My job thrills me. Seriously. Like how taking plunging your hand into a vat of boiling oil is “thrilling.” Me? I’d rather shove bamboo skewers laced with the toxins of a thousand blowfish under my fingernails than deal with the morons that waddle through the doors of the Wal-Mart.

My jobs today included running a regular register, trying to stop the rampant theft at the self-checkouts and covering breaks at the Service Desk – which is where all the fun began.

L’il Miss Fashion Tragedy Wal-Mart Barbie rolls up wearing a giraffe-print shirt paired with a cheetah print blazer. That’s too much print for a newspaper. Let alone the African savannah! Whole herds of bushmen would run in horror.

She’s got the Wal-Mart howler monkey special shopping cart – built with two child seats behind the buggy – and her version comes complete with two clinging howler monkeys. Now available at walmart.com and Wal-Mart stores nationwide!

Cheetah Cheeto Momma has a computer she wants to return, allegedly because it won’t turn on. Probably because your bratty monsters spilled a cup of juice, some cereal and a gallon of aquarium water on it.

She clunks the computer up on the desk and I ask for a receipt.

Cheetah Cheeto Momma looks right at me and bluntly says “I ain’t got none of my receipts for here.”

I look back, trying mightily not to make a comment on her furry fashion faux pas, and inform her that we’re not taking the computer back without a receipt.

She growls with a scream worthy of any predator. Maybe that’s how she landed a babydaddy? There’s a grunting vocalization of some sort and then “What kind of f****** place don’t take returns?” My guess? Any place you steal shop at on a regular basis.

Anywho. I ask if maybe she’s got the receipt at home or in the car or secreted in a hidden pocket on her handbag. (Thank God the handbag wasn’t in a zebra print or twenty-seven outraged Luo tribesmen would have jumped out and speared her to death right then and there.)


She said she'd go check. And she left.

WITHOUT HER FREAKING HOWLER MONKEYS.

This insane Cheetah Cheeto Momma just walked away from Customer Service for four minutes (which felt like forever) and left her children running around inside the House of Wal.

I should have called the police.

When she gets back, she’s waving a piece of paper that – MY STARS – resembles a receipt.

Turns out the receipts is from last December. Eleven months ago. This woman’s computer pre-dates the Britney Spears meltdown, resurrection and post-resurrection VMA meltdown.

I calmly explain (while trying not to be distracted by the cheetah spots) that Wal-Mart will not be taking the computer back. It was after the 15-day return period (well after) and the manufacturer would be able to assist her on repairing her machine.

That, of course, was unacceptable to Cheetah Cheeto Momma. She wants a manager (and some fashion sense).

Management orders me to take it back. Before I do, I open the box, inspect the computer and decide to plug it in – because she said it wouldn’t even turn on.

Whir lights powers on Lord love a duck, it powered on. Windows XP opened up and right there, on her desktop, staring back at me with their grubby little faces, were her two little demon spawn.

The terror in her eyes was magnificent.

I packed it back up and sent her on her way.

Thank you for our attempted scamming at the House of Wal. K thx bai.

The hills are alive with the sounds of white trash scamming

What with the economy being in the toilet and the construction industry in Florida being the toilet paper circling the drain of said toilet, the herds of free range white trash without educations or marketable job skills that extend beyond wielding a hammer are again roving the great Wal-prairies looking to scam.

The new thing seems to be buying items at thrift stores, charity shops or maybe pawn shops, then trying to return them at Wal-Mart. Not just clothes, but sometimes electronics. For all I know, they're rifling through the trash. Of course, this only works if you and the corn-fed sow in Daisy Dukes with her hands in your back pockets can keep the story straight.

OK. So I get a particularly lurvley white trash couple straight out of Central Casting. He's got on faded T-shirt that reads "The South Shall Rise Again" - with the sleaves ripped off and the sides cut off except for about an inch around the bottom hem - and jeans with about eight colors of paint and some motor oil thrown in for good measure. Boots that were made for mucking out a stable and the requisite Bud Light hat. From the neck down, maybe if I was slipped a roofie. From the neck up, *shudder* - alls I'm saying is - Future Proactive Spokesmodel-In-Training. Either way, he wasn't too bright.

The girlfriend had packed her considerable girth into a pair of cutoffs that would have made Daisy Duck, Daisy Buchanan, certainly Miss Daisy and probably Daisy Duke herself (Lord, Catherine Bach sure did pack on the pounds later in life) cry with shame and run for a cover-up. I forget what kind of top she had on. I just kept waiting for that one sad, overstressed button on the front of her pants to go and was trying to stay out of the way of it.
Anyway. They roll in with a SanDisk Sansa music player. JUST the player. No box, no cables, no headphones. Nothing. And of course no receipt.

I don't know what it is yet, so I ask them "That's how it came? No headphones?"

She says yes, he says no. "Well which is it?" I'm not very polite when it comes to scammers here lately. What are they gonna do? Call the cops? And apparently it magically doesn't come with headphones or any other accessories. What's that I smell? Scam? Or maybe weed. It was hard to tell over the B.O.

So I'm like "Exchange it, but no refund, no store credit, no nothing." And we're not even supposed to return MP3 players without a receipt period. That's actually one of the policies posted on the wall. But they'll whine and moan and get a manager .... which they eventually did ...

So an electronics associate walks a new one back up to Customer Service and asks me "Is this what you need? You know it's $148 right?" And then I notice it comes with a whole list of stuff: namely - AC charger/adaptor; USB cable; earphones; case; install CD and user guides.

I bust their "no headphones" story like a DUI cop with a quota on a Saturday night. It don't even make a difference because the shield of ignorance is so thick.

"Well this is how we got it." At the pawn shop, maybe. Or digging through the trash. But you ain't bought it like that at at no Wal-Mart on this continent.

I'm like "No. This is how we sell them."

"Well this is how we got ours. I want a manager." And I want birth control to be delivered in the water system.

Management didn't even bother with making the unsavory types "exchange" their "defective" player. They just refunded it onto a gift card and wished them on their merry way.

Which was probably the right wrong call in the end - give away the $148 plus tax and don't let them have another perfectly good unit to go pull the same stunt with again. Still, that's another few shekels down the tube tops. After a while, it starts to add up.

Rock-a-bye-baby

The routine of "Can I help you?" followed by a fairly predictable number of buttons and either a refund or a gift card is probably going to be permanently imprinted on my brain for all time.

But there really are some days I just shouldn't go to work. There are days when the first few returns right out of the gate just signal that it's a blue moon, the crazies and the scammers are out and I should have come in loaded for bear and with a full set of body armor.

Like this woman who brought back a baby swing thing. Anyway. She claims she bought it "a week ago" and it doesn't work.

OK. That's fine. Except she doesn't have the receipt. Or the box. Or any of the papers that came with it. All she has is an assembled swing. No baby either, although I'm grateful enough for the absence of a howler monkey I don't think about the lack of supporting evidence.

OK. If it's broken we'll exchange it for you. I tell her to go get me another one off the shelf, or bring me the shelf label so I know how much credit to give her.

She back a few minutes later.

SHOCKER! We don't have any more. I take a closer look at this swing and quickly realize that the reason we don't have any more is probably because we either NEVER sold it or else HAVEN'T sold it in quite a few months.

Why? There's rust around the bolts and other obvious signs of wear and tear. I ask her again. "When did you buy this?" And I get the same "A week ago" answer.

And I ask again "And you don't have the receipt, even though you bought it a week ago?" Of course she doesn't.

And I ask again "And you don't have the box or the papers, even though you bought it a week ago?" Of course she doesn't. That infant is probably in preschool and she needs cash for beer and ciggies.

I tell her I can't return it. She wants a manager.

She gets a manager and walks out a few minutes later with a shop card for $31.76.

On a busy day, with the right manager, you could probably return your mother-in-law for cash. I'm sure she shops at Wal-Mart anyway.

Blender? I don't know her

"It's Tuesday. Dawn must be in trouble. Wait. That isn't right." It's Thursday. It's time for another blender story. That's better.

Loooooook. You really need to think about trying to run game multiple times AT THE SAME STORE. I mean, your stories are just not straight enough to fool a fifth grader. Much less me.

Sound. Check.

Costumes. Ladies. I know it is hot in Florida in the summertime. I also know that some of you are rightfully proud that you have a stash tucked away in the Banco de Mammary, and for whatever reason feel it is not necessary to make use of a fee-free PLAYTEX-backed bra savings account. HOWEVER, if you are going to go cleavage commando, please, please, pleeeeeeeze do not wear such thin dresses. You're gonna put an eye out with those sharp pointy things on the front of your chest. Don't nobody need to be getting all Tara Reid up in the Wal-Mart.

Makeup. Check.

ROLL TAPE:

This girl and her brother came up with a blender they claim they bought five days ago. They said they "hadn't used it" because the screw thingy to hold the blade and the cup together was missing. Yeah. And I'm in line to inherit the throne of Britain. There was orange pulp on the inside of the glass canister. Plus it smelled like the back door at a Minute Maid plant.

She wants another blender. Shocker. I'm sure this one is broken because they're trying to make orange juice in it - they're just too cheap to buy a juicer. Whatever. It isn't my merchandise. I just return the crap. I don't get paid to dispense advice to the stupid people who buy it. Not that they would spend money on something to do the job properly when the can keep buying, breaking and returning things that are cheaper but that won't work.

I start mashing buttons and then notice that on the receipt, the blender originally rang up as $19.84, was voided and re-rung as $13. And there's no clearance sticker on the blender. Any number of reasons this could of happened - but most likely, the blender was in the "wrong place." Or it was moved to the "wrong place" intentionally. If the difference is under $10, we not supposed to ask questions unless they want something completely outrageous.
It is still ringing up for the $19.84 - but she paid $13, so she gets $13 back. Brother Bear and Sister Bear wander off.

They come back about an hour later with another blender. Same model. I ask her if she checked if all the parts were in there. And I ring it up. Still ringing up for $19.84.

She wants it for $13. I refuse.

I ask her why she got the other blender for $13. She doesn't know. Okaaaaaaaay. I still don't really understand why she didn't know why she got the other one cheaper. She was muttering about how someone else bought it or something.

I was probably being overly bitchy - especially over $6. But I was just sick of the crap I get on a daily basis from stupid, entitled, scammers and horrible human beings in general. I was like "This blender is $19.84. It is ringing up at $19.84. I don't know why you got that blender at $13 - but that was five days ago. This is now. You need to pay the full price now because the blender is not on sale."

She doesn't like that. So I'm like "OK. I'll go check." I actually get out from behind the counter and walk my happy little self over to housewares on the off chance this blender is maybe, possibly, in some universe within the infinite wavelength of happenstance of possibly being somewhere on the space-time continuum on sale. Alas and alack, poor Hamilton Beach. I knew him Kenmore.

HELL NO! Whole shelf of blenders for $13.84 in blue boxes. The blender I'm holding is in a white box. Three models over and a shelf up. Right under a sign for $19.84. I took the label and the other blender (the $13.84 one) and scooted right back up to Customer Service before a woman looking at shelf paper and making eyes in my direction could ask me questions.

"Ma'am. This blender is $19.84. This is the $13.84 blender. See, here are the LABELS FROM THE SHELF. Not. The. Same."

"Oh. Maybe I was confused." No. "Confusion" could possibly excuse the decision not to wear a bra. With underwire. "Scam" pretty much covers the blender decision.

Then she didn't even have enough money to pay for the $13.84 blender. She had exactly what I'd given her as a refund earlier and had to to send the brother back out to the car for another dollar. I mean, who comes into a store without a single dollar to their name?

Who let the (dumb) dogs out?

OK. We all know how this one is going to roll. Somebody is going to do something stupid with a sketchy return and I'm going to bust them like a watermelon at a Gallagher concert.

For real people. Do you just not understand the concept that computers USE the information on the receipts to, I dunno, TRACK how many returns you have? Even the ancient computers at the House of Wal.

I mean, you're able to return something you outright stole without a receipt, but you sure as hell can't return something for cash once, then come in with ANOTHER USED ONE and try to use the same receipt. It's the greed that will get you every time. The register is going to tell me, make noise, blow bubbles, spit paper out and otherwise refuse to cooperate. Sort of like your girlfriend after the first two weeks of marriage.

Eeeen-e-waaaay. I'm sure we're all dying to hear the one about the sub-woofer and the stupid greasy rednecks at 10:30 p.m. on a Sunday night. As I live and breathe, my life was just so complete at this point. Sunday night I had to run Customer Service by myself from 3-11 p.m. I've got one 15 minute break and a 3o-minute lunch because they begged me not to take a full hour. My feet hurt and I was just not in the mood for this kind of stupidity. You know what, I got it anyway.

Two doods, one wearing - I swear to Shiva, overalls - bopped up at 10:30 p.m. One was carrying an out-of-the-box subwoofer. The other one stood around and adjusted himself for 15 minutes. Seriously. He could have taught a master class in Anatomical Ikebana.

I don't even get my standard "Can I help you?" greeting out before the greasier of the two launches into an explanation of how they bought this sub-woofer, how it won't install, how it isn't blown out (complete with demonstration) and all sorts of verbal diarrhea to try and distract me from the fact that this is a sketchy return.

It is a $68 sub-woofer. There's no box, no serial number, the receipt is from another store and I think they're just generally acting suspicious. I don't want to do the return, so I call my supervisor over and tell her that I have a problem and I need her to go see if we stock the item. She doesn't care, just wants to go home, and says "Just return it." Thus, we see how decisions are made in the House of Wal.

So I start the process. PS MERCH RETURN I print the defective slip and put APPROVED BY CSM XXXX on there. I'm not taking the hit for this one.

But when I try to cash out the transaction, the register hangs and gives me a message on the screen and then spits out a piece of paper.

TRANSACTION PREVIOUSLY REFUNDED FOR $XX.XX ON 9/16 STORE #XXXX and a few more lines with the specific register and whatnot the refund was on.

They already returned one sub-woofer using this receipt. At a different store than the one they bought it at.

Do we get the picture? Let me spell it out. Buy one *NEW* sub-woofer. Then return - or at least try to return - used sub-woofers using the new Wal-Mart receipt. I'd bet that some Wal-Mart somewhere has a used sub-woofer sitting on a shelf right now.

I tell them I can't process the return because they've already had the transaction refunded. They deny it. I'm like "No. Right here. You got a refund at XXX store three hours ago."

They deny it again and claim "this is the only receipt we have." I'm sure it is. And a well-traveled receipt too. It's been in three Wal-Marts in the past four hours. And on the garage floor by the looks of it.

I'm like "We're not going to take it back tonight. If you want to return that merchandise, you need to go back to the store you bought the merchandise at or the store where you returned it previously. We can't help you. Have a good night."

They stand around and gripe for a while, but eventually leave.

It was just the day for the basura blanca. Two hours earlier a meth addict in serious need of a fix had tried to cash a $4,000 check. *twitch & scratch* Do you *twitch & scratch* cash checks *twitch & scratch* here? *twitch & scratch* "I'm sorry, the most we cash is $1500." And he did not look like a Henrietta. Unless "Henrietta" was on some serious hormone replacement therapy.

PS: Neither of you were cute enough for me to care about, not even in that skanky, bad-boy, white trash sort of way!

Something's rotten in the House of Wal

In my time of service to the House of Wal, I have been called on to do all sorts of demeaning things that I would otherwise turn my saucy and aristocratic Roman nose up at.

I have cleaned up baby puke, big people puke, baby crap, big people crap, picked up a dirty pair of jeans with human feces all over them, swept up dog food, gathered grocery carts in 98 degree heat, repeatedly handled raw meat and vegetables for hours at a time and listened to some of the most insane and horrible human beings Kali ever put on this planet. Anyway. That's not the point.

What I was called upon to do Sunday put all other things to shame. I have taken back some sketchy returns in my day. The empty cans of Diet Coke spring to mind!

This one tops that. By far and away. Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman doing bad Irish accents "Far and Way."

OK. This older man comes up. He's a health-conscious hippie with his little black biker shorts and form-fitting white top. He's even got a fanny pack with a water bottle attachment. Was probably a Deadhead and a Phish Head and a fan of the Beatles for good measure. FROM THE FANNY PACK, he pulls what turns out to be two pairs of dress socks. One argyle, one gray.

Said dress socks have been around the block more times than the mailman, the school bus, the garbage truck and your cousin Vanessa put together. There are even pills on them. Enough pills to fill a prescription.

And the odor. Lord. The odor. Limburger cheese. Unwashed feet. Halitosis. Baby poo. Britney at the VMAs. Compassionate conservatism. Rank I say. I. HAVE. NO. MORE. WORDS.

"I wanna return these. They just didn't work out for me." AND HE PULLS OUT A RECEIPT.

Do not sigh. Do not roll eyes. Do not sigh. DO NOT ROLL EYES. DO NOT SIGH. It's like a mantra. I'm trying to find my happy place. Lord, it was soooo hard too.

Look at the socks. Look at him. Look at the socks. Look at him. Look at the receipt. Look at him. Look at the socks. Look at the receipt again. Do internal math. "Is this worth a knock-down drag-out fight for $2.97 apiece for? No. OK. Give the stupid man a refund before I keel over from the fumes."

And the worst part was I had to touch the filthy things to put a defective tag on both pairs. I thought about making a scene and getting out the biohazard kit, some glove and maybe a pair of tongs, but decided it wasn't worth it.

BUTTONS. MASH. DEFECTIVE. DEFECTIVE. $6.30. Yes, a grand total of $6.30 for two ancient pairs of socks. You too can get rich by scamming the Wal-Mart two pairs of socks at a time. SIGN HERE. HAVE A NICE DAY PLEASE LEAVE NOW.

*wipes counter down with disenfectant* *hunts for antibacterial hand stuff*

My change, my lovely lovely change

Maybe it is just me, but I would sure as hell notice if I magically did not get the entire green paper bill portion of my change.

Especially seeing as how that was $30. At a regular register. I mean, I ain't so rich I throw back twenties and tens like they is small fry.

"But I was in a hurry to get to the other coast." OK. And............ You left your brain and your change at register 12?

They counted the register. And checked the tape. You lie like a bad toupee.

Please leave now. Kthxbai.

UPDATE: When the cash office girl got in at night, she looked over the records from Sept. 5, the day this incident allegedly happened. That register was short $5.36 that day. If he had not gotten his change, it would have been OVER at least $30. So no dice. He left and did not put up a fuss. He was just trying to get a fast $30 for a couple of bags of ditch weed.

More scams at the Wal-Mart

Another silly moo tried the old 'change the driver license number' trick today. This time it was $125 in 600-thread-count sheets.

The least she could have done was used black ink. Florida DOES NOT use blue ink on their driver licenses.

Silly cow. Doesn't she read Behind the Counter? Scammers rarely prosper. Complainers ALWAYS do!

How glue can you make me feel?

********************SCAMMER ALERT********************

OK. I don't know you. I don't know your ugly bearded daughter. (Girlfriend. Wax, electrolysis, depilatory cream, razors, a goat, a lawnmower, a Weed-eater, something. Anything. You look like an alpaca mated with a Fuller brush.) You are interrupting a transaction I'm trying to finish just to say "HI" and use my name - because, you know, I'm required to wear a nametag. I have regulars. You are not one of them.

You interrupt the transaction of the customer ahead of you (woman returning some sheets) again to comment on my glasses. Because I have the fly designer frames. Seriously. I don't know you. I do know that you're as annoying as hell.

You keep talking. You start asking the woman whose transaction you're interrupting about her makeup, her handbag and her jewelry. It is like a pre-hymn church service up in here. Everybody is just so friendly - although the woman obviously doesn't want to talk to you - but she doesn't want to be rude. But I still don't know you.

You and your four-hundred-pound daughter - who's using one of the Mart Carts - finally pull up to the counter when the woman returning the sheets escapes (why can't I). Then we find out why you're trying to be so friendly. Heifers. You're trying to run some game. I still don't know you.

But I know you are scammers of a different order.

The leviathan-like daughter take the lead. She's wearing a spaghetti-strap top and terrycloth shorts about four sizes too small for her; she whips out a bag containing eight or nine boxes of water-softener and water-filter products. "My husband bought a different kind of filter. I looked all over but I can't find the receipt." Because I always buy $20o worth of stuff and throw away the receipts. It never existed on this or any other plane of existence.

I blank my face and start scanning. She keeps yakking. "Don't you think it is terrible how you have to buy one filter to purify the water and another filter and a tablet to make the water taste a certain way? Isn't that terrible? These people are just trying to rip us poor folks off." My stars. Seriously. Just shut up. If you want to scam, just shut your gaping maw.

The final total is $207. And change. **sigh**

"Can I see your ID ma'am?" With any luck, she's already got three returns and I can deny her.

She proffers up a huge paw and a tiny pink pocketbook with the drivers license in a see-through plastic window. I make to grab it and she yanks it back like I'm going for her bag of Funyuns. She's got it on a strap around her wrist. "I always lose my ID," she squawks by way of explanation. OK. Fine. We can play it your way.

I pull it as close as I can and I start typing and when I hit the fifth number alarm bells go off. She has changed both the "3s" in the number to eights with a ballpoint pen to try to get around the "three returns without a receipt policy.

ME: "Can you take your ID out for me ma'am?"
HER: "NO."
ME: "Ma'am. I need to see your ID."
HER: "NO."
ME: "Ma'am. I need to examine your ID."
HER: "It is glued in."
ME: "I need to see your ID or we will not be able to return these items."
HER: "WHY DO YOU NEED TO SEE IT? IT IS RIGHT THERE?"
ME: "Ma'am. That is not a valid ID. I need to examine it. You can take it out or you can take you items and leave."
HER: "It is a valid ID."
ME: "Ma'am. I need to see it. Can you take it out for me?"
HER: "It is glued in. I can't take it out because I always lose it."
ME: "That's fine ma'am. When you have a valid ID, you can return these items."

She looks at me like I slapped her across the face and then yanked a bag of Cheetos right out of her hands. All the while dancing around the living room of her double-wide dousing it with gasoline and throwing matches while singing "Big Girls Don't Cry."

Her mother asks her - right in front of me - "Well, how many returns do you have? I can't do no more."

HER: "Well I want my stuff back."
ME: "Certainly."

Ride that Mart Cart right on out of here. I hope you run into a sheriff's deputy and give him that same line of "it's glued in" crap. I hope you keep squawking that line right off to county lock-up.

It was a fine idea at the time

Ma'am, I understand that you "bought these clothes this week." However, you most certainly did not buy them at any Wal-Mart on this continent.

Furthermore, you do not have a receipt for this pile of clothing. You've got baby clothes, kids cloths, a skirt and a couple of pairs of jeans. All the tags are still attached. That, right there is where you made your mistake.

You see ma'am - I can scan some of these clothes. The baby items ring through for $1.00 each - despite the tags saying $6.88. You don't even blink an eye - you know you're coming out ahead.

Then we get to a thornier issue - the kids clothes and the adult stuff. I hit that stuff with my gun and it comes up ITEM NOT FOUND PRESS CLEAR. I ask you again when you bought the merchandise. "This week." I ask you where you purchased it. "This store."

See, now we have a problem. Because either the scan gun and the merchandise system that Wal-Mart uses to manage the inventory for nearly 6,000 stores is lying to me - or you are.

Let's break it down shall we?

You see ma'am, unlike most infant wear - boyswear and ladieswear items are seasonal. There's a code on the tags - in addition to the barcode - that tells me the month and year that that particular product line hit store shelves.

In your greed to get the $16.88 back for the pair of jeans, you left the tags on. I can see where at least three of the SALE stickers have been pulled of. And I look for the month/year release date code.

Ma'am - this merchandise was put on shelves in March of 2004. All this stuff came out in the spring of 2oo4. We're not going to return it unless you find a receipt.

She took the $3.00 she got back on some infants stuff though - if it rings up we have to return it - but only for the price it rings up. She left with $3.18 and bag full of three-year-old clothes.

Happens all the time. Thrift store shoppers come in with a bag of stuff and hope to get lucky. Sometimes they find brand new stuff someone has donated. If you pay a dollar or two for a pair of pants and get even $5 back - you're more than doubling your money.

A bicycle built for two (years)

Old people suck. Let me just throw that one out there right now. It bears repeating. Old people suck. They suck their teeth. They suck mints. They suck straws too loudly in restaurants and they certainly - now, forever and beyond the end of time - as long as B-Rit and K-Fed be fighting over the howlers - suck as customers.

You know what old man? You made a conscious decision to buy a bicycle from the Wal-Mart. Now, in whatever Yankee state you're from, the Wal-Mart might have better merchandise. I seriously doubt this, as it is all made in China anyway. If you want a better bicycle, go somewhere else and buy one.

However, you are seriously deluded if you honestly and truly believe that you are going to roll that rusted, beat-up, clangy specimen into Customer Service, present us with a receipt from November 21, 2006 and demand an exchange "because the brakes went out."

Sir. The bicycle is 278 days old. TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-EIGHT DAYS OLD. There are managers up in this store that have not been in the state that long. Heck. Some of them haven't been managers that long.

Never mind our "We don't return bikes" rule. We don't return much of anything after 90 days.

You have ridden this bike into the ground. Into. The. Ground.

The chain is rusted nearly through. The handlebars are rusted. The pedals are so worn there is no tread left. The paint is flaking. You have either left it outside or ridden it many miles. It looks like my Grandma's Chevy Nova after 15 years of carrying her back and forth to work at the pants factory.

The nice manager offered to fix your bicycle. Free of charge even. That was not good enough for you. You want a brand new bicycle. Because you are a classic case of old people entitlement suck. I hope you lose your teeth tomorrow morning.

The chain of events the denial of your exchange touches off - complete with the rationalizations from you sir - who proudly informs everyone around that "you were a veteran" - is just unbelievable.

Here is the complete catalog of your reasons why we should let you exchange this bicycle - WHICH WE ALREADY EXCHANGED FOR YOU ONCE IN NOVEMBER - I know this because you are waving around an exchange receipt.

1. You never rode it. Ahem. St. Peter, prepare the lightnings.
   
2. You just want to exchange it.
   
3. You never left it outside. Step back. Lightning strikes reported in area five. The weather today? Charred, with a slight hint of cripsy old fart in the air. Tomorrow should bring rain with a dusting of Metamucil drizzle in the afternoon.
   
4. You're 72 years old. The manager goes "I'm 52. What does that have to do with anything?" Indeed.
   
5. The chain is bad. Well, after 278 days, you need at least minimal maintenance. Don't you put oil in the Caddy?
   
6. You think we ought to stand behind our product.
   
7. You don't want this bike repaired. Because this bike was junk. But you said you never rode it?
   
8. You just want to exchange it. But you waited 39 weeks to exchange it?
   
9. The seat is uncomfortable. But I thought you never rode it?
   
10. Other Wal-Marts are always more accommodating to seniors. We got ride-along carts? What else you want? A euthanasia booth? I'll vote for that.
    
11. Other stores are always more respectful of their customers. Other stores need the customers. Wal-Mart don't care.
    
12. The Wal-Mart "back home" never gives you this much trouble. Fine. Go back to a flyover state. Leave us alone and go bother some other Customer Service counter!
    
13. You just want to exchange it.
    
14. You can't believe that we don't believe you when you say you never left it outside. Satan, we got one for you. Express delivery. Crispy on the outside. Black as sin on the inside.
    
15. You're going to take your business elsewhere. Please do. No business needs customers like you.

But yes, in the end, management rolled over and let him exchange it. Another $89.94 "rental" right straight out the door. I'm sure we'll see that one come back again some time this spring after another six to nine months of hard use.

You know what? Old people suck.

The shoe is on the other foot

Look dude. I know you think I owe you $9.68 cents for that pair of shoes you "returned" 18 days ago. However, you're standing RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME telling me that you "got a new pair of sandals" that day.

Yeah, I know you're waving around a receipt from the first week of August.

You're also holding a receipt where you paid another $9.68 for a pair of sandals. YOU DO NOT GET MONEY BACK IF YOU MAKE AN EXCHANGE.

Let me repeat that for the stupid in the line. In fact, let me break it down for you.

1) You give me defective merchandise.
2) I mash some buttons and return the defective merchandise. You thereby obtain a credit balance of $9.68.
3) You purchase NEW and non-defective merchandise. This is what is know in retail circles as an E-X-C-H-A-N-G-E. Repeatan, por favor. Cambio. C-A-M-B-I-O. That's right. I can say it in two languages. Ain't nobody trying to cheat a chico out of his nueve dollares. How are you going to pay for sus zapatos nuevos? Using the "credit balance" you got from the $9.68. That's how.
4. How can I tell that you ALREADY got a refund on these shoes?
5. Because I can do a nifty little thing called a #91 Action Code on your receipt. YOU GOT A REFUND OF $9.68 FOUR MINUTES BEFORE YOU PURCHASED THE NEW SHOES.

Look man. You are not ignorant. You do not speak English as bad as you pretend to - because the first thing you said was, and I quote, "I think you owe me some money," and when you got upset, you started arguing with me real good. In the lingua franca of the Court of St. James's no less. So don't give me that dumb look and break out the "No speak Eengleesh."

I broke it down for you twice. The third time, the man behind you in line came around and started nodding his head. He even told you "You don't get a refund AND a new pair of shoes."

You're standing there shaking your head like you don't understand. Maybe you don't. Consider this an education.

Sir. Sir. Please look at me. Sir. You returned a defective pair of sandals. You received a new pair of the identical sandals. In no way, shape, form or concept on this planet or any other ball of rock in the cosmos are you entitled to any cash.

The gentleman behind you, a fellow customer in no way connected to the Wal-Mart, is valiantly trying to convince you of this - so he can carry out THE EXACT SAME TRANSACTION.

Moreover, the time to raise questions about this transaction was 18 days ago - when it happened - and when you walked out of Customer Service the proud owner of a pair of non-defective sandals. NOT TODAY. NOT 18 DAYS LATER. NOT WHEN YOU NEED A SAWBUCK TO BUY A DIME BAG.

Are we clear on this? OK. Thank you. Please leave now so that I may resume helping the customers who actually understand how the concepts of "return" and "exchange" work.

Flowering Inferno

This is an open letter to the perfectly deceitful middle-aged woman who had the gall to return 18 wilted roses on Saturday night.

You are absolutely without shame. Although you did not yell or scream or otherwise debase yourself in an audiovisual manner, you deserve the "Sucky Customer of the Year" award for having the temerity to return eighteen flowers - that someone else bought for you - for a lousy $13.84. ALL THIS THREE DAYS AFTER THE FLOWERS WERE PURCHASED.

Yes ma'am. I know that you "got your reciept" and that you were not satisfied with the merchandise that your husband purchased for your birthday. Yes, we do have a giant sign with four-inch letters that says something to the effect of "It is our policy to satisfy our customers by refund, exchange or repair."

You, ma'am, however, do not deserve satisfaction. You deserve nothing more than a piano dropped onto your head from a four-story building in the faint hope it can hammer home a clue. PS: I can see from the snarling set of your lips that you are obviously not getting any 'satisfaction' at home either.

You, ma'am, although I begrudge giving you one iota of respect, even a courtesy title, you made sure your husband saved a receipt with a birthday card, a bottle of wine and two bunches of flowers on it. Everyone involved in this little tete-a-tete knows that you planned to return those flowers all along.

Just speaking to you calmly is an effort for me. It is to your eternal fortune that I was highly medicated and thus was able to resist the urge to take up the sad roses whose honor you had tarnished with your tawdry "love them and leave them" affair and beat you about the head. Yes bitch, every rose does have its thorns. Can you feel it now? Or is that what your husband says?

No one. I repeat NO ONE should ever think it is acceptable to return cut flowers. You are the fat kid's urine in the shallow end of the gene pool. I can tell from the receipt that these were reduced and were certainly clearly marked as such on the bouquets. The REDUCED price tags are bright yellow and say REDUCED in all caps. They have to be specially printed and stuck on over the regular barcode.

Your husband - who loves you so much he did your birthday shopping at a low-rent discount store like Wal-Mart - purchased $13.84 worth of reduced price roses. He didn't even care enough to pick out fresh cheap flowers. He picked out old cheap flowers. That lovely wilted rose scent really goes with your cheap perfume too. What is that? Eau de la Trampe le Skanke? And your cheap jewelry. Did he buy that for you too? Better take it in and have it checked.

But you two obviously deserve each other. He got you cheap flowers. You're obviously stupid and selfish. The whine in your voice when you said "Well I just think they ought to last longer" was almost enough to make me feel sorry for him.

You are talking about cut-rate reduced-price flowers from Wal-Mart. The same bouquet is going to run you at least $80 on Teleflora or $50 on 1800flowers.com. Your local florist would have be at least in the $30 - but you would have gotten a vase, greenery and two weeks of life. But your loving husband shops at Wal-Mart on his way home from work. I bet your sex life is just as hurried and unimaginative - the same three-minute loop repeated once a week on Saturdays with a special extended five-minute version on birthdays & anniversaries.

Here's a few hints. First, the man shops at Wal-Mart. He is obviously not a keeper. Next, he purchased 18 roses for $13. Obviously, these are not high-quality botanicals. Three, you are just a disgusting specimen of humanity who is serving no useful purpose other than to consume resources and perpetuate stupidity. Obviously Darwinism is not functioning as a population control mechanism. I hope you didn't have children. I can only imagine the functionally stupid adults they grew into.

I'm only shocked you didn't try to return the card he bought you - or the wine - both of which I could see on the same receipt. I didn't like this wine. It gave me a hangover. Can I return it?

PS: Toxicodendron radicans, with three almond-shaped leaves and little white berries makes a beautiful houseplant. You can dig them up on almost any roadside and transplant it all over your yard and house. I think it is just the perfect plant for you.

Give us this day our daily bread

The time to complain that cashier Belinda "smashed" your bread by dropping seven cans of beans on top of it is before you leave the store.

Or at the register. Go ahead. Get off the phone, quit talking to your best friend Quantice about this tripping party you went to, put down that issue of US Weekly that you're reading for free (Girl, what is Britney and LiLo up to?) and stop yelling at your troop of howler monkeys rolling around on their wheelies. Call the cashier on their stupidity. If they really are bagging your bread with cans, they deserve whatever you dish out.

The INCORRECT time to complain is after you've rolled your groceries out to the car, unpacked them, and then decide to come back up to Customer Service - WITHOUT THE BREAD - and then try to get some free bread and hot dog rolls.

First, the woman says she wants to make a complaint about the cashier at Register 10 - because they crushed her bread when they bagged it. OK. Fine. Whatever. I never worked on a register that much, but I would make a minimal effort to take care of the bread & eggs. Everything else I just dumped in a sack. If they wanted it to be treated special, they needed to speak up or get one of their kids to start bagging.

Next, she wants her money back on the bread. My co-worker wanders over and asks her where the bread is. "Oh, it's in the car. I didn't think I needed to bring it back in." Because the concepts of RETURN & EXCHANGE sprang into being fully formed and never once involved an actual product being returned or exchanged. Duh!

So I tell her that she needs to bring the bread in before she can get a refund on it. "But it is crushed." Then we'll send it back to the Food Claims Center and get someone to talk to the cashier.
"Can't I just get my money back?" Not without the bread.

"Can I just get a new loaf of bread?" Not without bringing in the old loaf of bread.

"But that one is no good. Why do I have to bring it in? Can't I just keep it?" Well ..... Bentonville, we have a problem. She was either trying to scam free bread or she seriously thought we were going to let her have the money AND the "damaged loaf."

She finally gets a clue that it is not going to happen and trots off. She bounces back up a few minutes later with two loaves of bread with a small dent in the top and a package of hot dog buns. None of them look abused. Heck, I've seen worse damage from people throwing stuff around in their cart - and with a $400 grocery bill, I doubt the bread was treated like bone china every step of the way.

So we exchange the bread for her. And then she asks again "Are you sure I can't just take those? You're probably just going to throw them out."

NO. Still no. Still going to be no tomorrow too.

I hope every single piece of toast you make for the next two weeks burns to a crisp. And ants invade your picnic.

Back to School shopping & scamming

The scams are getting better - or at least just more inventive and shameless.

I'm trying to sort through the mountain of returns that Sundays normally bring when I come across a rolling backpack - the kind kids take to school now that allegedly wearing an actual backpack is bad for their tiny shoulders.

Some of the backpacks go to Stationary for "Back to School," some go to Furniture as luggage and yet other go to Softlines as "accessories." You can tell by doing an ITEM INQUIRY and scanning the barcode. Except I can't find the barcode because all the tags have been torn off the front.

I open it up to see if there's a scannable tag inside and behold a feast of treasures. Ten DVDs, a box of Pop Secret and candy.

I open the zip pockets and find Kelly Clarkson, High School Musical and some others.

**sigh**

How was this going to go down?
(if they weren't just counting on cashier stupidity, although we are supposed to open EVERY bag, every container, every purse, every shoe box, etc.)
Find a backpack we only have one of - or hide the ones we only have two of. Take all the tags off the backpack. ALL the tags. Look through it REAL good for anything that might be a tag, a SKU number, a barcode, a UPC or anything that might identify it as being from Wal-Mart.

Load it up. We don't have Loss Prevention anymore. And it is not theft until you walk outside the door. Anything else is "shopping." Like movies? Don't forget the popcorn & snacks.

Buy some school supplies. This is very important to establish your cover.

When you check out - tell the cashier "My little boy/girl wanted to bring his backpack to help buy his school supplies!" There's nothing on there to say that backpack came from Wal-Mart. Not anymore. We're not going to call you a liar. Arresting our thieving customers is bad for business.

Roll right out the door. Make sure the kid is rolling the backpack. When the door alarm goes off, the door greeter will check your CART, but not the backpack. Because the alarm goes off all the time anyway.

Kick back and enjoy.

Yes, I know. Any of you working at a decently run Wal-Mart can (and probably will) poke holes in this scam. I'm very happy that you work in a place where your fellow associates do more than hold up the registers or come to work just to take breaks and lunches. My co-workers simply don't care. Our store's shrink this year is projected at $2.7 million dollars. Little scenarios like this happen all the time.

Do fries go with that shake?

Look, you're stupid for buying protein powder at Wal-Mart in the first place. It probably comes from China and who knows what the "protein" actually is.

You're lose a few more points for being a coward and sending in your mom and skinny kid sister to return it.

These big gallon-sized jars aren't usually light. This one was. I opened that jar of protein powder up and peeked inside. Three-fourths of it were GONE.

I look at the mostly empty jar. And at the expectant duo. Back at the jar. Back at the women. I seriously consider saying "Are you for real? Are you seriously going to try to return this?" But I don't.

"Do you have a receipt?" Heads shake in the negative. If you're going to act a fool, at least bring some ammunition.

"Then I'm sorry, but you can't return this."

Googly eyes. Really. You thought you were actually going to pull this off? On what planet? In what universe?

"But it didn't work."

HOW EXACTLY DID IT NOT WORK AGAIN? Riiiiiight. Muscles didn't start popping out, probably. Ah-nuld. You not make big muscle today. Eat right, work out on a sensible schedule and maybe join a reputable gym. That's a plan. Not Wal-Mart protein powder. It's not a clock. It don't got moving parts. Customer stupidity is not a reason for a return.
I'm gripping for words to try and explain this concept without using the specific phrase "rampant stupidity" or "you're just too stupid to breathe."

I finally get out "You can't return something after you've used all of it."

"But what if we find the receipt?"

No.

And they shuffle off into the fluorescent sunset.

The key(board)s to the kingdom

I just get so tired of the scams. There is so much negative energy coming from the customers whenever I go up to Customer Service that I sometimes simply lose the will to fight. I mean, if they are going to make it so easy for the customers to steal, why should I care in the end?

Take this one from late Sunday night. This lumpy middle-aged woman comes in and before I can get one word out she starts complaining about a wireless keyboard she bought.

Allegedly, this woman purchased a Microsoft wireless keyboard and mouse combo. Her claim was that when she opened up the package, there was just a regular keyboard jammed in it - and a regular wired mouse.

OK. Believe her or not? I know stuff like that happens ALL THE FRELLING TIME. People try to return VCRs inside DVD boxes, old shoes and all sorts of crap.

I looked at the date on the receipt and it was four days ago. I personally think she was lying - if something like that happened to me - I'd be right back up in the store. But she claimed she "couldn't make it in." And she had the receipt ... so she is starting from a stronger bargaining position than I am.

So my supervisor tells me to return it - and give her cash back - because the receipt indicated that SOMEBODY paid with cash.

Somebody somewhere is walking around with a $90 keyboard for free. Either her - or the people that ran that game in the first place.

Skinny, skinny coco-ba, skinny, skinny-ra

First they were stealing the Alli. Now they’re returning it. Guess the anal leakage isn’t worth it for the sake of a few pounds.

One woman returned not one but two Alli starter kits Saturday. One was still sealed and in the packaging. The other was opened and had more than half the pills missing. But she had the receipt. What was I supposed to do?

I figured she’d already suffered enough, especially when I asked her “Why are you returning all this stuff?” and she couldn’t look me in the eye enough to say “It didn’t work like I thought it was going to work.”

Duh. What part of “anal leakage” don’t you understand?

For good measure, she also returned a bottle of hoodia, some Slim-Fast and two packs of DexaTrim.

Issues much? She wasn't even all that fat to begin with - maybe a size 10 or so.

Big girls don't cry. Skinny girls just crap their pants.

Wax on, wax off

So, the new price scam has hit Wal-Mart. Remember the soap dish fiends? Well, the soap dish thing was always a little dicey, because the item description clearly came up SOAP DISH. Which, when you're ringing up a DVD - ain't gonna work - unless you're trying to get a Sally Field/ Whoopi Goldberg comedy classic!

The new thing the scammers have discovered is that the candles have individual barcode stickers - $1.96 stickers - for which the removal of said sticker is made MUCH easier by the candle wax.

Yes. I personally found candle stickers on three items of merchandise Sunday night - a $20 DVD - which was so artfully hidden I'd hardly have noticed it if I hadn't have been looking; a children's toy blow-up raft and a moderately expensive watch.

The candles have the added benefit of ringing up with some incomprehensible name like 1/4 IN 8 BLK RD -- which translated is most likely "one-quarter inch round, red, eight inches long, square-block candles." Different permutations of numbers/letters and colors can be used for several dozen colors, candle lengths, etc.

HOWEVER. That line coming across the scanner is not going to scream out SCAM! SCAM! SCAM! when you scan a DVD or a toy or many things they way that SOAP DISH will.

Let's say you got a kid's toy. The same product line could be translate to "one of four eight inch blocks " or for a DVD "Series 1: Black Road Eight." You don't really know. I've seen stranger. No matter what, very few cashiers are really going to go "Huh, what was that?"

There have been times I've had to literally go number by number on the UPC with some products because whatever the Wal-Mart clerks named it is so odd.

Anyway. That was just one of my Sunday adventures.

And to top it all off, one old man returned some rancid watermelon. He said it looked like someone used a syringe to put coloring into it. Really. It's the Wal-Mart. Someone probably did!

Chicken. And ice cream

I wrote this Sunday night. I read it and then held off posting because I have been trying to pay more attention to my karmic goodness. I was shocked at how angry I was. I re-read it today and decided to let it go -- especially in light of the "Wal-Mart loses $3 billion in theft" stuff that's floating around. Really, we just give stuff away. And we're powerless to stop it."

Look dude. I hope you go straight to hell. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Go straight to hell. And no, the fact that you had your CHILD with you does not in one single way mitigate the fact that you are a lying sack of flung monkey poo.

Someone riddle me this. HOW DO YOU spend a TOTAL of $21 at register #16 - and somehow manage to FORGET the only two items on the receipt that cost more than $5 - namely a footlong package of Tyson chicken and a tub of Blue Bunny mint chocolate chip ice cream?

Yeah, I know you were "in a hurry." I can't imagine being in such a hurry that you allegedly PAID IN CASH and managed to forget this stuff.

You did not even have the nerve to look me in the eye when I asked you "You're telling me you FORGOT two pounds of chicken and a tub of ice cream?"

"Uh huh." Uh-huh. You either picked that receipt up off the ground or else that chicken and ice cream is sitting out in your car right now.

I hope you get a chicken bone stuck in your throat. I don't want you dead. What I want is when someone Heimlichs you, I hope they crack a rib or two. I want you to suffer. I want every breath you take to remind you of your ill-gotten gains. Plus, I hope every single bowl of that ice cream gives you an ice cream headache. And 2o cavities to boot.

Remember, Mithra is watching.