My Parting Gift from Today

I was buying milk after clocking out when the cashier at the register behind me paged for my department. So, I turned around and said to Crazy Kate (the cashier), "Hey, I'm right here, what's up?"

CKtC: Hey, this customer wanted to talk to a manager about the coffee.
Me: Sure.
Customer: I was wondering why it is so difficult to buy coffee here.
Me: ...coffee?
Customer: Yeah, I'm not allowed to mix the coffees, and apparently you have to write down a 3 digit code so the cashier knows how much to charge? I don't have time for that.
Me:
Customer: Why is it so hard to buy coffee here?
Me: Well...it isn't.
Customer: It *isn't*?? It's all priced differently! Why? I can go down the street to Fresh...Fair?
Me: Fresh Market.
Customer: Yeah, I can go down there and buy and mix any coffee I want, and it's all $8.99 a pound. I BUY KONA THERE FOR $8.99. Why don't you guys do that?
Me: We have more single estate coffees than they do, and we pay a fair price to the farms, and it costs more depending on how far it travels and how much transportation costs.
Customer: They have Kona! Do YOU have Kona??
Me: No. It's a little expensive right now and the quality isn't as good as it should be for the price they're asking right now.
Customer: I just don't understand why you don't do what they do, and just make all bulk coffee one price. I had to put this poor woman through looking through her little book there, looking for the code for this coffee because she needs it to charge me correctly. How much is this coffee?
Me: I don't know, because "rainforest" isn't a specific coffee we sell.
Customer: It said it right on the bin!
Me: Yeah...that's a separate sign letting you know that that coffee is part of the Rainforest Alliance group. There are four different coffees with the same insignia. I'd have to know which of those four you have here.
Customer: WHAT? JUST PRICE THEM ALL THE SAME!
Me: I'm sorry. We want to be more truthful about the pricing, so they are priced individually based on their landed costs. Have you considered that while you're buying Kona for only $8.99/lb, Fresh Market is overcharging you for less expensive coffees at lower quality?
Customer: I buy *Kona*. For $8.99/lb.
Me: Well...I'm sorry you have to go to Fresh Market for it.
Customer: Here.

WTF? If you can't follow simple instructions, I do not know what to do with you, it's official.

At Least Have Some Conviction

If you've decided that you're going to shoplift, and you still decide to go through with it even after a sales clerk has had an awkward conversation with you where you BOTH KNOW what you are about to do, then at least do us the service and follow through. I mean, honestly. At that point, it's a game of will and nerves: we're on to you, and you're looking for the thrill (if I'm to believe the psychologists) and I'm competitive; there are few things I hate more than being disappointed.

So when this somewhat flustered older man decided to stuff 4 bottles of wine into a paper shopping sack, my associate started up a conversation with him. My associate offered the man one of our complimentary wine bottle bags (on purpose, as a way to start a conversation.) Because if you have a conversation with someone who is showing signs of wanting to thieve, you a) have an excellent view of their face without being skulky or obvious about it; and b) you tend to remember more details about their description, in case they do slip through and get out of your establishment and you need to alert other employees about possible future endeavors.

But I digress. This slightly frumpy older man proceeded to the front of the store. My associate alerted me to what was going on, so I split for the front of the house. My favorite spot for scoping out thieves-in-action is from the other side of the registers, either near the baggers (sometimes I'll even bag for the person in question) or somewhere between the cash stands and the exit. It gives me an unobstructed view of every person involved in all transactions, without blocking egress or drawing much attention. Except, this time he saw me looking at him. He hadn't done anything wrong yet (aside from putting the wine in the bag--that's concealment in our state, and technically shoplifting--yes, that's right, it IS possible to shoplift before ever passing the point of purchase) so I found it amusing that he was already nervous. I decided to keep looking right at him. So, he pulls out his cellphone and pokes it a few times, opening and closing it, holding it up to his ear like he's listening to a voicemail or whatever--and he abandons his cart just as the person in front of him finishes up their transaction. He walks right by me and out the door. Chickenshit!

So for fun and for further info for my warning email later, I step outside and watch what car he goes to. What luck! A front spot. I don't even have to leave the sidewalk to write down his license plate # and make and model of car. And that's when he saw me writing.

Theivus Interruptus: *shouting from a distance* Do you have a problem?!?
Me: *ignore* *pretend not to hear/pretend not to know the question is directed at me*
Me: *scribble scribble*
TI: *walks up to me* Do you have a problem, Michele?
Me: Are you...talking to me?
TI: Yeah, I am. I saw you writing down my license plate number.
Me: I don't know what you're talking about.
TI: Right there--you were writing down my license number.
Me: Uh, I'm standing here getting a breath of fresh air and writing down some notes for next week's schedule. *unfolds last week's schedule and shows him*
TI: No, well, no, you were writing it down in that-- *points to note pad*
Me: What? This? *flips it open, it's full of scribbled notes from meetings and phone lists*
TI: Uh. Well. Anyway.
Me: Oh, since you're back, I wanted to ask you: are you going back in to buy that wine, or should I put it back when I'm done here?
TI: No, no I'm not going to buy it. I have to take this call, and I don't have time. That's why I walked out. This call is important.
Me: Ah. Well, you know, you could have taken the call in line. People do it all of the time.
TI: It is too loud in there! I had to leave!
Me: Oh, good point. Well, have a nice day.
TI: Since I'm here, I might as well go get the wine.
Me: Oh, great.

The exit door could not have picked the perfect time to slam shut. LOLOLOL

TI: How am I supposed to get back in?!?!!
Me: ...this is the exit door..? Here, I don't usually do this, but...*pries door open with hands* ...there. Go ahead inside.

Lord. He did end up buying that wine. I talked to the cashier afterwards to find out if he'd said anything to her. She said that she told him that if he bought two more bottles, he'd get the 10% discount. He said, "Oh, I don't have enough money for that."

Yeah, I bet you don't. Why bring money to a store you're planning on ripping off?

PS Yeah, I shouldn't have lied to the guy about writing down his plate, but man, I had just worked a 9 hour shift without a break. It would have gotten SO MESSY if he had gotten up in my face more than he already had.

TWO Posts in One Day?!?

Yes, it's hardly fair of me to skip posting for 3 months only to post more than once in a single 12 hour period.

But now that I have a semi-decent camera on my new-every-two phone, it is too hard to resist showing you what I see on a daily basis. This, my friends, is why that surly retail clerk was so surly:

Do you see the shrimp carcass? This is how people treat their surroundings at my nice, clean, cared-for, retail establishment. Nevermind that we have 14 trashcans stationed around the store. Nice, shiny, chrome bullet cans. You can't miss them. This person couldn't be bothered to walk another two feet, though. I wonder what their house looks like--do they just stash wrappers in their bookcases? I mean, assuming that people like that actually bother to read? Or maybe when they finish something, like a carton of milk, they just shove it back in the fridge even though the garbage can is right behind them.

And let's not even get into how there was nobody demo-ing shrimp in the store today. This fucker felt entitled enough to grab one of the serve-yourself steamed shrimp off of the seafood bar. Probably used their hands. Hopefully after another of the skanky masses used *their* hands and touched that particular shrimp.

I hope they get the Mexican pig flu.

Of Course You're Invited

Earlier this week, I was part of a tour group made up of people from work. We were congregating out on the sidewalk of one of the area stores, waiting for the last stragglers to arrive. Since the tour was going to be outside, we were all dressed like civilians, and looked much like our average customer base. As we were waiting, a customer walked into the middle of our group and asked, "Are you going on a tour?"
"Yes," a few of us replied enthusiastically.
"Oh, how nice! What kind of tour?" she inquired.
"We're going to a local dairy farm," Mike said, smiling. "It's going to be cool."
She paused for a moment and then turned her head away from him.
"Hmm...not interested," she sniffed as she went into the store.

I'm sorry, but...YOU WEREN'T INVITED. What the fuck, lady?

Seriously, who does that? Passes judgment, invites themselves and then declines the non-existent invitation? I almost wish she had been interested...I would have charged her $50 for the ride out. Sheesh.