So I have decided that I hate teenagers...
What is up with Cloverdale, all the kids hink theyre so ghetto, it's sad.
Our store was vandalized yesterday... Tags all over the outside walls...
But I just don't get it. What makes suburban scum like the twits I have to serve think that they have somehow earned cool points by scribbling their names in a semi legible scribble on the side of an establishment... It looked rediculous (as a supporter of urbinity I have learned an appreciation for graffitti performed in an artistic way... this was neither artistic nor was it insired)...
So lame...
And the worst part is you can almost gurantee that this was performed by some little punk ass kid whos parents think they're a little angel...
Oh how I'd love to send one kid (just one) home with a black eye, so that they can try explaining it to their parents (of course I'd have to figure out some way to get it on video so that my outburst would be justified)...
Oh, and another beef... Caught a drunk kid trying to steal red bull last night... As I'm sure you know, trying to reason with drunk people is pointless, and since he's in all the time, i just left it at "I will ban you all from the store next time"...
His friend tried to get in a fighting match with me about how I would not be able to ban him if he didnt do anything...
I hate drunk people... Because you cant reason with them (I decided to put that twice)...
I was tempted to tell them that I can ban people from a private establishment for whatever reason I see fit... (although the public might not like it if I started banning based on gender or race... perhaps I shold start banning caucasian males under the age of 20...)
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Saturday, July 16, 2005
'Nother Normal Night
I'm sure you can guess from the title, that there isnt much to say, but humour me and keep readin please...
My night started off rather simply...
A few drunk teenagers trying to buy smokes... retarded adults smoking cigarettes in front of the pumps... A slurpee mess or two... Lonely old ladies whom I ask of their day adn get their life story, complete with tear jerkers such as '... and he hasn't called since I got out of the hospital" or "... and thats when my 5th dog died"...
*yawn* yup pretty boring night...
Oh... and some lamerz came in dressed up in costume from the Harry Potter book party... actually one lamerz... and one lamerz with a sword/wand too...
But I digress...
Then it all happened...
I was washing dishes (enough to be said)
with pop songs and showtunes dancing 'round in my head
When out in the entrance there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my sink to see 'twas the matter
On the front tile, standing alone was one
Crackhead grinning for the things he had done
The magnetic locks on the door he bypassed
by wretching and pulling and working his ass (off)
Bewildered I stood there until I could shout
"You Asshole! You fuckhead! You're not welcome! Get Out!"
He approached the till, I started to yell
A line he had crossed, I knew he could tell
I'm finding it hard to rhyme now (its time for bed me thinks) So I'll just finish the story...
When he arrived the door was locked, so he wretched on it to open it, I freaked right out (I actually screamed at him)... I totally thought that tonight was my night to get robbed... He looked like a fucking cracker that you would normally see on those "this is why you never do heroin" movies that the VPD puts out every year... Or one of those real tv movies where the guy jumps across the counter with a needle filled with god only knows what liquid screaming how if everything doesnt go their way someone isgoing to get infected with aids...
He tried to give me excuses like "I didnt know the door was locked" (but with the amount of noise the doors made in opening, I can't imagine he couldnt have known) and then he tried to tell me that he would come back after I [me] had "calmed down"...
I told him that if he came back I would call the cops on sight...
When he left, I locked the doors using the manual lock, and then I went to the washroom to clean the mess I had left in my pants...
good night
My night started off rather simply...
A few drunk teenagers trying to buy smokes... retarded adults smoking cigarettes in front of the pumps... A slurpee mess or two... Lonely old ladies whom I ask of their day adn get their life story, complete with tear jerkers such as '... and he hasn't called since I got out of the hospital" or "... and thats when my 5th dog died"...
*yawn* yup pretty boring night...
Oh... and some lamerz came in dressed up in costume from the Harry Potter book party... actually one lamerz... and one lamerz with a sword/wand too...
But I digress...
Then it all happened...
I was washing dishes (enough to be said)
with pop songs and showtunes dancing 'round in my head
When out in the entrance there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my sink to see 'twas the matter
On the front tile, standing alone was one
Crackhead grinning for the things he had done
The magnetic locks on the door he bypassed
by wretching and pulling and working his ass (off)
Bewildered I stood there until I could shout
"You Asshole! You fuckhead! You're not welcome! Get Out!"
He approached the till, I started to yell
A line he had crossed, I knew he could tell
I'm finding it hard to rhyme now (its time for bed me thinks) So I'll just finish the story...
When he arrived the door was locked, so he wretched on it to open it, I freaked right out (I actually screamed at him)... I totally thought that tonight was my night to get robbed... He looked like a fucking cracker that you would normally see on those "this is why you never do heroin" movies that the VPD puts out every year... Or one of those real tv movies where the guy jumps across the counter with a needle filled with god only knows what liquid screaming how if everything doesnt go their way someone isgoing to get infected with aids...
He tried to give me excuses like "I didnt know the door was locked" (but with the amount of noise the doors made in opening, I can't imagine he couldnt have known) and then he tried to tell me that he would come back after I [me] had "calmed down"...
I told him that if he came back I would call the cops on sight...
When he left, I locked the doors using the manual lock, and then I went to the washroom to clean the mess I had left in my pants...
good night
Friday, July 15, 2005
Sloppy Children
Yesterday was hot, and I was working the afternoon. I love working on hot afternoons,a s you all know simply for the fact that it means that the slurpee machine is going to be in full swing.
No kidding, the store was backed up about 15 people for about 45 minutes (even though there were two of us running the tills) but eventually the rush subsided, and I was left to survey the damage...
Of our slurpee cups, 6 of the 8 dispensors had been completely drained (I wondered why we were selling so many XL slurpees towards the end of it).
Of our straws, we were out of the colourful novelty size straws and were down to about 20 regular straws.
Of our slurpee, two flavours were completly depleted, and 2 more were on their way...
Of our florr, as im sure you can imagine, it was a colourful mosaic of slurpee goo about 4 1/4" thick, spread from the slurpee area to the magazines to the ice to the washrooms...
I am well aware that my time to clean is limited (slurpee runs always come in waves) so I frantically start stocking and mopping...
I get the floor clean and the straws out before there is a group of people waiting for their turn at the machine...
I am elbowing people in the backs of their heads in order to get the cups out, and I manage to get into the back storage in order to get the slurpee machines all up and running before all hell breaks loose...
The cycle repeats itself, with the back up at the till and what not, as soons as its died down enough I go in to survey the damage... Much the same... I clean stock and fix...
The floor is left to dry, and I return to the till... Not 30 seconds go by, and a man comes up to the counter (walking past the other customers politely waiting in line)
"there was a slurpee spill" [Translation: "I spilled a crapload of slurpee all over the place"]
I continue serving customers
"Excuse me, there was a slurpee spill" [Translation: "Perhaps I'll hide my obnoxiousness by being polite, so that you will listen to me when I tell you that I spilled a crapload of slurpee all over the place"]
I nod at him, and continue serving customers...
"Excuse me, can you clean up the slurpee now, please? [Translation: "Fuck face, I'm too important to take ownership over the things I do, but that doesnt stop me from having a low desire to trudge through my own mess thus stickifying the bottom of my oh so important shoe... And look I'll even use please to try to cover up that i obviosly think I'm a million times better than you by pretending to appeal to your own politeness")
I look the customer I was midway serving, and tell her that I need to deal with another customer... She turns slightly and gives him the scan-up-and-down glare, and nods at em like "Yeah, get rid of the prick"...
I clean up the mess, and return to the till...
Now some of you are probibly thinking I acted a little harsh... I mean, I didnt even see who made the ginormous 1.3L orange slurpee mess... But I have proof that I didnt...
You see, when he came up to the counter he was holding a soiled XL slurpee cup...
No kidding, the store was backed up about 15 people for about 45 minutes (even though there were two of us running the tills) but eventually the rush subsided, and I was left to survey the damage...
Of our slurpee cups, 6 of the 8 dispensors had been completely drained (I wondered why we were selling so many XL slurpees towards the end of it).
Of our straws, we were out of the colourful novelty size straws and were down to about 20 regular straws.
Of our slurpee, two flavours were completly depleted, and 2 more were on their way...
Of our florr, as im sure you can imagine, it was a colourful mosaic of slurpee goo about 4 1/4" thick, spread from the slurpee area to the magazines to the ice to the washrooms...
I am well aware that my time to clean is limited (slurpee runs always come in waves) so I frantically start stocking and mopping...
I get the floor clean and the straws out before there is a group of people waiting for their turn at the machine...
I am elbowing people in the backs of their heads in order to get the cups out, and I manage to get into the back storage in order to get the slurpee machines all up and running before all hell breaks loose...
The cycle repeats itself, with the back up at the till and what not, as soons as its died down enough I go in to survey the damage... Much the same... I clean stock and fix...
The floor is left to dry, and I return to the till... Not 30 seconds go by, and a man comes up to the counter (walking past the other customers politely waiting in line)
"there was a slurpee spill" [Translation: "I spilled a crapload of slurpee all over the place"]
I continue serving customers
"Excuse me, there was a slurpee spill" [Translation: "Perhaps I'll hide my obnoxiousness by being polite, so that you will listen to me when I tell you that I spilled a crapload of slurpee all over the place"]
I nod at him, and continue serving customers...
"Excuse me, can you clean up the slurpee now, please? [Translation: "Fuck face, I'm too important to take ownership over the things I do, but that doesnt stop me from having a low desire to trudge through my own mess thus stickifying the bottom of my oh so important shoe... And look I'll even use please to try to cover up that i obviosly think I'm a million times better than you by pretending to appeal to your own politeness")
I look the customer I was midway serving, and tell her that I need to deal with another customer... She turns slightly and gives him the scan-up-and-down glare, and nods at em like "Yeah, get rid of the prick"...
I clean up the mess, and return to the till...
Now some of you are probibly thinking I acted a little harsh... I mean, I didnt even see who made the ginormous 1.3L orange slurpee mess... But I have proof that I didnt...
You see, when he came up to the counter he was holding a soiled XL slurpee cup...
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Coffee
Today we are going to learn a little but about something I know and love…
And no, today’s post is not about me (although I’m sure you all would eat it up) but as the title implies, I’m going to give you a little bit of a lesson on coffee…
Now, since there is so much I could teach you (and that would be without delving into the topic of fair trade in a world economy) I will narrow it down a little and limit my discussion to regions where coffee is grown…
Arabian Coffee:
Conveniently named after the place it comes from:
Columbian Coffee:
Conveniently named after the place it comes from
Sumatran Coffee:
Conveniently named after the place it comes from
Java Coffee
Conveniently named after the place it comes from
Okay, so this isn;t really a discussion, but it will prove my point...
I had a lady come in and ask us if we have any 'real coffee'
I pointed towards our java coffee (as after 6pm thast all we make)...
She demands to know where the 'real' coffee is...
I try to explain to her that Java is a coffee producing region and the namesake for the coffee with which we are serving...
She shakes her head and in a huff, she parades off to the coffee stand...
She pours 3/4 of a xtra large coffee and then screams at me "this is disgusting; I dont want this shit!" (she hadn't sampled any of it yet)
She storms out of the store, and tries her best to slam the door (doesnt work so well with automatic closing mechanisms)...
So I just wanted everyone to know that Java coffee is called such for a reason...
And no, today’s post is not about me (although I’m sure you all would eat it up) but as the title implies, I’m going to give you a little bit of a lesson on coffee…
Now, since there is so much I could teach you (and that would be without delving into the topic of fair trade in a world economy) I will narrow it down a little and limit my discussion to regions where coffee is grown…
Arabian Coffee:
Conveniently named after the place it comes from:
Columbian Coffee:
Conveniently named after the place it comes from
Sumatran Coffee:
Conveniently named after the place it comes from
Java Coffee
Conveniently named after the place it comes from
Okay, so this isn;t really a discussion, but it will prove my point...
I had a lady come in and ask us if we have any 'real coffee'
I pointed towards our java coffee (as after 6pm thast all we make)...
She demands to know where the 'real' coffee is...
I try to explain to her that Java is a coffee producing region and the namesake for the coffee with which we are serving...
She shakes her head and in a huff, she parades off to the coffee stand...
She pours 3/4 of a xtra large coffee and then screams at me "this is disgusting; I dont want this shit!" (she hadn't sampled any of it yet)
She storms out of the store, and tries her best to slam the door (doesnt work so well with automatic closing mechanisms)...
So I just wanted everyone to know that Java coffee is called such for a reason...
Pair of Dice, Lost
Ah ha ha, my name is so witty... But it has nothing to do with this post...
So I am back from my mission trip (as Zach would say, I am done converting the heathens for now)…
It was all good times, and although I’d love to inundate you with all my stories, I wont… Go to Chronicles of an Informal White Dress (in the ‘other blogs’ section of this page) in order to read up on my antics… Cuz really, you’re all hear to find out how I narrowly avoided yelling at customers…
I wont keep you from todays hilarity any longer, on with the show!
An older man entered the store today, coming from the direction of a pump which had just finished pumping 60 or so dollars…
Of course when he got to the couter I double checked that he was the owner (its always best to check, you never know what you might accidentally swipe on a credit card)…
When he accepted that it was indeed his purchase, I asked if he had petro points… (remember this, its important later in the story)
The answer I received was a blank stare. Now, a blank stare usually means ‘no! wtf are you talking about?” Anyone in the service industry will tell you so (in the same way that ‘couple’ is ‘two’ and ‘few’ is ‘three’… but don’t get me started on that rant… COUPLE IS NOT A NUMERICAL ANSWER!)
After staring for a bit he opens his mouth to speak…
I hang off every word… I am more enthralled than I have ever been in the entirety of my life…
“dumaurier king size”
I turn to grab a pack, scan, announce total, swipe his debit card, complete transaction, and he makes for the door…
As he is about to leave, he turns around and says “I have petro points”
By this time the transaction is complete, and due to the nature of debit cards, it is not able to be redone…
This is where things start to get interesting…
He wants the discount you get with petro points (3.5 cents a litre)… I inform him that I am unable to give a discount once a transaction is completed (which is true for all but a few circumstances) as there isn’t a way for me to redo the transaction and that the discount can only be applied to the initial transaction…
I then inform him that I can give him his petro points by leaving a form which my boss takes to add points manually…
He proceeds to do the thing that has, thus far, pissed my off more than anything any other customer has ever done…
In a very condescending tone and with a big ‘I’m angry but I’m smiling’ smile he says “well that isn’t very fair to me, is it?”
I inform him of the plight of the debit card, and reiterate that the best I can do is give him the petro points…
He goes on to tell me that he’s had this happen before and that it was solved really easily, and that I was just too stupid to do it… Spoken through his teeth with a big old grin on his face
I was so close to jumping across the counter and throttling him…
My co-worker intervened and asked me (quietly) to go somewhere else for a few seconds while he dealt with him… I obliged…
When I came back the situation had been resolved… Mainly by my cowroker just giving the guy the $1.50 the guy would have saved directly from the till…
I was so pissed off… I told my employee about how I had asked the guy for his petro points and that he had ignored me… Grr!
I swear, Im getting too old for this… My poor heart…
So I am back from my mission trip (as Zach would say, I am done converting the heathens for now)…
It was all good times, and although I’d love to inundate you with all my stories, I wont… Go to Chronicles of an Informal White Dress (in the ‘other blogs’ section of this page) in order to read up on my antics… Cuz really, you’re all hear to find out how I narrowly avoided yelling at customers…
I wont keep you from todays hilarity any longer, on with the show!
An older man entered the store today, coming from the direction of a pump which had just finished pumping 60 or so dollars…
Of course when he got to the couter I double checked that he was the owner (its always best to check, you never know what you might accidentally swipe on a credit card)…
When he accepted that it was indeed his purchase, I asked if he had petro points… (remember this, its important later in the story)
The answer I received was a blank stare. Now, a blank stare usually means ‘no! wtf are you talking about?” Anyone in the service industry will tell you so (in the same way that ‘couple’ is ‘two’ and ‘few’ is ‘three’… but don’t get me started on that rant… COUPLE IS NOT A NUMERICAL ANSWER!)
After staring for a bit he opens his mouth to speak…
I hang off every word… I am more enthralled than I have ever been in the entirety of my life…
“dumaurier king size”
I turn to grab a pack, scan, announce total, swipe his debit card, complete transaction, and he makes for the door…
As he is about to leave, he turns around and says “I have petro points”
By this time the transaction is complete, and due to the nature of debit cards, it is not able to be redone…
This is where things start to get interesting…
He wants the discount you get with petro points (3.5 cents a litre)… I inform him that I am unable to give a discount once a transaction is completed (which is true for all but a few circumstances) as there isn’t a way for me to redo the transaction and that the discount can only be applied to the initial transaction…
I then inform him that I can give him his petro points by leaving a form which my boss takes to add points manually…
He proceeds to do the thing that has, thus far, pissed my off more than anything any other customer has ever done…
In a very condescending tone and with a big ‘I’m angry but I’m smiling’ smile he says “well that isn’t very fair to me, is it?”
I inform him of the plight of the debit card, and reiterate that the best I can do is give him the petro points…
He goes on to tell me that he’s had this happen before and that it was solved really easily, and that I was just too stupid to do it… Spoken through his teeth with a big old grin on his face
I was so close to jumping across the counter and throttling him…
My co-worker intervened and asked me (quietly) to go somewhere else for a few seconds while he dealt with him… I obliged…
When I came back the situation had been resolved… Mainly by my cowroker just giving the guy the $1.50 the guy would have saved directly from the till…
I was so pissed off… I told my employee about how I had asked the guy for his petro points and that he had ignored me… Grr!
I swear, Im getting too old for this… My poor heart…
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Canada D'eh!
So today is Canada Day revisited...
This year, I have been allowed to have the graveyard off (unlike last year, which was painfully painful)...
Anyways, as the only person still working at the gas station who has every worked the graveyard on Canada Day (I think the last person to do a Canada Day gave notice the morning after (yes, its that bad)) I thought I should be kind and give the girl (yes girl) whom was taking the shift a bit of warning as to how to effectively get through the night without murdering someone (my advice consisted of 1) arrive early and 2) dont expect anything to get done...)
Well, I did work today, I worked the afternoon shift... Which was actually very pleasant due to a break in a natural gas line some blocks away which ended up having most of the streets in the area blockaded (but that didnt stop people from smoking at my gas station... Natural Gas and Gasoline does not prevent people from smoking... dear god!)
Okay, anyways, she arrived almost late (thereby not getting any of the prep work done before we were ready to leave...
So I was like FFS (I learned that today, it's like WTF except trendy), But if she wasnt willing to take advice I wasn't about to be helpful... SO I finished doing my job, signed out, and then marched down to the fireworks with my friends...
The crowd was (according to police officers) somewhere in the range of 80-100k...
Within walking distance of our gas station...
If someone who has done the shift before says "get here early" you should listen to them...
And if your entire town is a parking lot because of an event, it only adds to the case this helpful employee is trying to make...
Well, the fireworks ended, and rather than making the trek all the way back up to the top of the hill, we waited around and caught a ride with another friend when the traffic died down (but it took a LONG time)
Since my other friends had parked in the petro can parking lot, we ended up going back there, and I went inside to score us some free slurpees...
She was almost in tears...
In the 90 minutes I was gone she had run 320 transactions... So about 4 transactions a minute... But then you need to consider the fact that it takes upwards of 30 seconds to complete a debit or credit transaction, you know why she was almost crying... She would have had people lined up around the store ...
Since I was still in my uniform, I offered her a chance to run out for a cigarette break while I served customers, and our friend cleaned some of the WD-40 from his car (Ah! Fumes)
We took our free slurpees and I offered the "I told you so, bitch!" face... I think she'll listen to me next time...
Just so everyone is in 'the Know', I am leaving for a mission trip this week and will not be returning until the 10th...
Therefore there will not be any stories until then...
Feel free to post comments about how much you miss me, or even stories of your own...
*Smoochies*
This year, I have been allowed to have the graveyard off (unlike last year, which was painfully painful)...
Anyways, as the only person still working at the gas station who has every worked the graveyard on Canada Day (I think the last person to do a Canada Day gave notice the morning after (yes, its that bad)) I thought I should be kind and give the girl (yes girl) whom was taking the shift a bit of warning as to how to effectively get through the night without murdering someone (my advice consisted of 1) arrive early and 2) dont expect anything to get done...)
Well, I did work today, I worked the afternoon shift... Which was actually very pleasant due to a break in a natural gas line some blocks away which ended up having most of the streets in the area blockaded (but that didnt stop people from smoking at my gas station... Natural Gas and Gasoline does not prevent people from smoking... dear god!)
Okay, anyways, she arrived almost late (thereby not getting any of the prep work done before we were ready to leave...
So I was like FFS (I learned that today, it's like WTF except trendy), But if she wasnt willing to take advice I wasn't about to be helpful... SO I finished doing my job, signed out, and then marched down to the fireworks with my friends...
The crowd was (according to police officers) somewhere in the range of 80-100k...
Within walking distance of our gas station...
If someone who has done the shift before says "get here early" you should listen to them...
And if your entire town is a parking lot because of an event, it only adds to the case this helpful employee is trying to make...
Well, the fireworks ended, and rather than making the trek all the way back up to the top of the hill, we waited around and caught a ride with another friend when the traffic died down (but it took a LONG time)
Since my other friends had parked in the petro can parking lot, we ended up going back there, and I went inside to score us some free slurpees...
She was almost in tears...
In the 90 minutes I was gone she had run 320 transactions... So about 4 transactions a minute... But then you need to consider the fact that it takes upwards of 30 seconds to complete a debit or credit transaction, you know why she was almost crying... She would have had people lined up around the store ...
Since I was still in my uniform, I offered her a chance to run out for a cigarette break while I served customers, and our friend cleaned some of the WD-40 from his car (Ah! Fumes)
We took our free slurpees and I offered the "I told you so, bitch!" face... I think she'll listen to me next time...
Just so everyone is in 'the Know', I am leaving for a mission trip this week and will not be returning until the 10th...
Therefore there will not be any stories until then...
Feel free to post comments about how much you miss me, or even stories of your own...
*Smoochies*
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Complaints
So...
Im going to make this quick (cuz Im heading out in a few minutes)...
Yesterday I was serving customers at till 2 (co-worker was in till number one)...
A lady came up to till 1 and informed her that she would like to pay fro $20 gas at pump #7... But since her grandson was already pumping (we didnt know she would be comming in to pay for it, and we had cleared the pump) she had to wait for him to finish...
Nothing out of the ordinary, it happens all the time...
The grandson finishes, the old lady pays, and she leaves the store...
The old bat (she's no longer an old lady) comes in and demands to be able to speak to the manager (oh crap, we think)
Thankfully our manager was still aorund (for whatever reason) and we escorted her to the office...
She was talking with my boss for about twenty minutes...
When she left, I served customers and my co worker went to find out what the lady had to say...
Turns out we were rude...
I ignored her (I was serving other customers), and co-worker didnt cover any interesting topic conversations (in the twenty seconds it took for the gas to finish pumping)...
Apparently she even started yelling at my boss over this...
I'm not entirely sure what to think... do people actually expect me to drop everything to help them (cuz im not going to)
Im going to make this quick (cuz Im heading out in a few minutes)...
Yesterday I was serving customers at till 2 (co-worker was in till number one)...
A lady came up to till 1 and informed her that she would like to pay fro $20 gas at pump #7... But since her grandson was already pumping (we didnt know she would be comming in to pay for it, and we had cleared the pump) she had to wait for him to finish...
Nothing out of the ordinary, it happens all the time...
The grandson finishes, the old lady pays, and she leaves the store...
The old bat (she's no longer an old lady) comes in and demands to be able to speak to the manager (oh crap, we think)
Thankfully our manager was still aorund (for whatever reason) and we escorted her to the office...
She was talking with my boss for about twenty minutes...
When she left, I served customers and my co worker went to find out what the lady had to say...
Turns out we were rude...
I ignored her (I was serving other customers), and co-worker didnt cover any interesting topic conversations (in the twenty seconds it took for the gas to finish pumping)...
Apparently she even started yelling at my boss over this...
I'm not entirely sure what to think... do people actually expect me to drop everything to help them (cuz im not going to)
Children
It is with great displeasure that I present the gripe of the hour...
I have met, the single most annoying child in the entire world. I am not blowing things out of proportion at all. Trust me, I was pacing back and forth and I went outside for two bouts of 'fresh air' due to him...
He was probibly about 7 years old, and his parents had apparently sent him to the store to pick up a loaf of bread, and he had recieved 1.89 (or so) as change, which his parents seemingly told him he could spend on items for himself...
Today was really slow, so annoying him was near impossible, but I tried my best...
When he finally came up to the counter, I figured he was ready to buy something and go.
Instead, he wanted to bring my attention to the fact he didnt think he had enough money in order to buy the candy he wanted...
So I asked him what candy he wanted, and sure enough it was 2.11 (or so... I'm making these number estimates up btw)...
My feloow employee encouraged him to find something a little bit cheaper to buy, or to save his money for next time...
He pouted for a bit (in a way that did not entice me to forgo the .22 (or so) cents, and then continued his meander around the store...
He did a loop around the store and then came back up to the till again (again, I presumed he was ready to go.. again I was wrong) He now started talking about how good the candy was, but how he knew he couldn't afford it... He talked about not being able to afford it and how good it was for a few more minutes (I paused briefly to ignore him and serve other customers) and when I came back to him, I caught him mid sentance...
He was really starting to ignore me...
I finally snapped, and as politely and as sternly as I could I told him that if he went and grabbed the candy right away, I would pay the extra few cents for him...
He walked over and returned with a bottle of candy... I scanned it, cashed it through, and sent him on his way... Or so I thought... He didnt make it to the door...
He walked from the counter to the ice cream freezer...
He started pulling out things from the freezer...
After he had drooled over our selection of drumstick icecream bars for a few minutes, he returned all the things to their appropriate places and returned to the counter...
"I dont like this candy... it was gross last time... I don't like it anymore"
I was thinking to myself "you little fucker" and contemplating how effectively I could kick him in the head from across the counter...
(did I mention, I don;t like kids)
Anyways, since my flexibilty limited the kicking to zero, I decided to hear him out...
"Can I have my money back"
'Fine!' I think, and I give him back his 1.89 (or so)
"But it was more than that" (the little fucker was trying to get the money I had put in)
I ginored him... After complaining because I wasnt giving him all his money, and his complaining falling on all but deaf ears, he returned to the freezer, and pulled out one of the drumsticks, and returned to the counter...
I scan it and announce the price of 2.49 (or so)...
I don't have enough money for that... and the complaining starts up again... From the amount of bitching he did, youd think this drumstick would make him the happiest little shit in the entire universe... Like his mom was hooked up to life support but they needed .60 to power it, but he could choose to put that .60 towards his drumstick, he would choose the drumstick and all its chocolately goodness...
I of course tell him I am not going to pay for it... I may have even made mention to my retraction of the .22 (or so) cents I formerly offered him..
he went around the store, and between the aisels complainging about how much the drumstick meant to ho him and blah blah blah...
I had enough, and I went for a smoke break...
I came back, and he was still there...
My fellow employee (not in as many words) told him to shut up and choose comething cheaper, or go home...
He pouted for a bit longer, and then decided he wasnt getting anywhere, and left...
And so our story ends...
for about 15 minutes...
He comes back, claiming to have gotten money from someone on the way (why oh why wasn't it a man in a van with a puppy?)...
He still doesnt have enough though...
So if youd like to know what happens, just start reading this post from the beginning, and replace the word candy with the word drumstick...
Fuck I want to lock him in a cage and beat him with a stick...
But alas, I might have been fired (only if she didnt get a chance to see how annoying the kid is first)...
Gnight
I have met, the single most annoying child in the entire world. I am not blowing things out of proportion at all. Trust me, I was pacing back and forth and I went outside for two bouts of 'fresh air' due to him...
He was probibly about 7 years old, and his parents had apparently sent him to the store to pick up a loaf of bread, and he had recieved 1.89 (or so) as change, which his parents seemingly told him he could spend on items for himself...
Today was really slow, so annoying him was near impossible, but I tried my best...
When he finally came up to the counter, I figured he was ready to buy something and go.
Instead, he wanted to bring my attention to the fact he didnt think he had enough money in order to buy the candy he wanted...
So I asked him what candy he wanted, and sure enough it was 2.11 (or so... I'm making these number estimates up btw)...
My feloow employee encouraged him to find something a little bit cheaper to buy, or to save his money for next time...
He pouted for a bit (in a way that did not entice me to forgo the .22 (or so) cents, and then continued his meander around the store...
He did a loop around the store and then came back up to the till again (again, I presumed he was ready to go.. again I was wrong) He now started talking about how good the candy was, but how he knew he couldn't afford it... He talked about not being able to afford it and how good it was for a few more minutes (I paused briefly to ignore him and serve other customers) and when I came back to him, I caught him mid sentance...
He was really starting to ignore me...
I finally snapped, and as politely and as sternly as I could I told him that if he went and grabbed the candy right away, I would pay the extra few cents for him...
He walked over and returned with a bottle of candy... I scanned it, cashed it through, and sent him on his way... Or so I thought... He didnt make it to the door...
He walked from the counter to the ice cream freezer...
He started pulling out things from the freezer...
After he had drooled over our selection of drumstick icecream bars for a few minutes, he returned all the things to their appropriate places and returned to the counter...
"I dont like this candy... it was gross last time... I don't like it anymore"
I was thinking to myself "you little fucker" and contemplating how effectively I could kick him in the head from across the counter...
(did I mention, I don;t like kids)
Anyways, since my flexibilty limited the kicking to zero, I decided to hear him out...
"Can I have my money back"
'Fine!' I think, and I give him back his 1.89 (or so)
"But it was more than that" (the little fucker was trying to get the money I had put in)
I ginored him... After complaining because I wasnt giving him all his money, and his complaining falling on all but deaf ears, he returned to the freezer, and pulled out one of the drumsticks, and returned to the counter...
I scan it and announce the price of 2.49 (or so)...
I don't have enough money for that... and the complaining starts up again... From the amount of bitching he did, youd think this drumstick would make him the happiest little shit in the entire universe... Like his mom was hooked up to life support but they needed .60 to power it, but he could choose to put that .60 towards his drumstick, he would choose the drumstick and all its chocolately goodness...
I of course tell him I am not going to pay for it... I may have even made mention to my retraction of the .22 (or so) cents I formerly offered him..
he went around the store, and between the aisels complainging about how much the drumstick meant to ho him and blah blah blah...
I had enough, and I went for a smoke break...
I came back, and he was still there...
My fellow employee (not in as many words) told him to shut up and choose comething cheaper, or go home...
He pouted for a bit longer, and then decided he wasnt getting anywhere, and left...
And so our story ends...
for about 15 minutes...
He comes back, claiming to have gotten money from someone on the way (why oh why wasn't it a man in a van with a puppy?)...
He still doesnt have enough though...
So if youd like to know what happens, just start reading this post from the beginning, and replace the word candy with the word drumstick...
Fuck I want to lock him in a cage and beat him with a stick...
But alas, I might have been fired (only if she didnt get a chance to see how annoying the kid is first)...
Gnight
Baby Nic Addicts
Well, my title might be a bit missleading, I am not writing about infants with smoking parents...
Tonights Rant is about teenagers who try to buy cigarettes from me...
Well, as I'm sure you know, I am a slightly moral person (Quiet Shannon! you speak lies!!!)... And my boss even made mention during my last review that I am exceptional when it comes to following underage laws in regards to tobacco and tobacco related products...
But...
Over the weekend I had a customer come in and say "There are some kids outside trying to buy 'Export A Medium'"... I thanked him for informing me, and he carried out his transaction and left...
There were no other customers at the time, so I called up the non-emergency police to ask them if they could stop by...
Lesson number one learned that evening, don't bother calling the non emergency police...
They have lame hold music, and after more than ten minutes on the line, I didnt get through...
My guess is that the only receptionist was in the process of breaking up with her boyfriend... But I digress...
Since the police thing was a no go, and since I knew the brand the kids wanted, I decided to take matters into my own hand...
I vowed to refuse sale of cigarettes to anyone who came in and ordered exprt a medium, whilst the kids were still nearby...
Thisd was a potentially dangerous thing, as I was working by myself, and some people can get quite irate if you prevent them from getting their next fix (nicotine is more addictive than heroin or cocaine)... But I figured it would send the message to the kids that they wont be able to get cigarettes at Petro when I'm at work...
Anyways... About five minutes later, a really sketch guy comes in and orders a pack of canadian classics king size and a pack of export a medium... And heres the kicker... He asks if he can get it on seperate bills!
I flat out, say no.
he asks why...
I inform him that there are youth outside trying to buy cigarettes and that I would not aid them in getting them...
He asks what I mean...
I inform him that since I know that they are trying to get export a medium, I am not going to sell cigarettes to anyone who orders them...
He freaks out and starts calling me every name under the sun...
When he calms down a bit, he tries again, this time ordering two packs of Canadians...
I tell him, again flat out, I have the right to refuse sale to anyone I want for any reason I want (well, asides from racially or sexually discriminating reasons, of course) and that he would not be purchasing cigarettes from me tonight...
(Then I fibbed a little bit)
I told him that when he went outside to give the kids back their money, to also tell them that i had already phoned the cops and that they had promised me they would be on their way...
He screamed at me more, so I said 'fine' grabbed a pack of canadians scanned them through the till, then I asked him for some ID...
He gave me his drivers liscense...
I started writing down the number, the DOB the address (actually, I got about halfway through the name before he figured out what was going on)...
He said f-it, asked for his liscense back and left... He politely lifted his central digit in support of my plight against teenage smokers when he walked past the window (heading east)...
I saw him about 30 seconds later heading west around the back of the pumps (presumably he though he was out of my view) towards the kids...
They dispersed... I was victorious!
My second story happened tonight... Whilst working with another employee...
Someone whom I know to be underage attempted to purchase Export A Lights, I tried to conceal my laughter when he asked at the counter (I was mostly successful)... In order to humour him, I asked him if he had any photo ID... he didn't, and so I informed him no...
He gave me the "buuuut I waaaaaant iiiiiiit" look that you often get from little babies (hence the title of this post) and I told him where to go (maybe not in the most polite way)...
Him and his buddies did go... Around the corner... to solicite adults to purchase them cigarettes...
Again, since I knew the brand, I knew what to look out for, but since I wasn't working by myself, I decided to play this one out a little different...
I told the person I was working with to buzz me if someone bought Export A Lights...
Nothing happened for about 15 minutes...
Then she buzzed me...
A relatively attractive young lady (with proper identification) was purchasing Export A Lights...
When she went outside, I follwed her...
And watched her hand the cigarettes off to the kids... I quickly wrote down her liscence plate, and then approached the youth...
I told them, as sternly as I could to give me the cigarettes...
They played dumb at first (how they could have missed my standing there watching them while the entire thing unfolded is beyond me) but I repeated myself, adding the lines "or I will phone her in and report her"...
They stop playing dumb a little bit, and ask "How are you going to report her?"
I show them the piece of paper with her LP on it... and add (another fib, I know) "The other GSA has her name from her liscense inside"
Being good little boys they handed over the cigarettes, I gave them back the money they paid for them with, and I told them not to come back...
I'm attempting to have at least one of the kids permanently banned from the store (I know his first name and I know hes trouble...
Anyways, just a short little update for you all...
Gnight
Tonights Rant is about teenagers who try to buy cigarettes from me...
Well, as I'm sure you know, I am a slightly moral person (Quiet Shannon! you speak lies!!!)... And my boss even made mention during my last review that I am exceptional when it comes to following underage laws in regards to tobacco and tobacco related products...
But...
Over the weekend I had a customer come in and say "There are some kids outside trying to buy 'Export A Medium'"... I thanked him for informing me, and he carried out his transaction and left...
There were no other customers at the time, so I called up the non-emergency police to ask them if they could stop by...
Lesson number one learned that evening, don't bother calling the non emergency police...
They have lame hold music, and after more than ten minutes on the line, I didnt get through...
My guess is that the only receptionist was in the process of breaking up with her boyfriend... But I digress...
Since the police thing was a no go, and since I knew the brand the kids wanted, I decided to take matters into my own hand...
I vowed to refuse sale of cigarettes to anyone who came in and ordered exprt a medium, whilst the kids were still nearby...
Thisd was a potentially dangerous thing, as I was working by myself, and some people can get quite irate if you prevent them from getting their next fix (nicotine is more addictive than heroin or cocaine)... But I figured it would send the message to the kids that they wont be able to get cigarettes at Petro when I'm at work...
Anyways... About five minutes later, a really sketch guy comes in and orders a pack of canadian classics king size and a pack of export a medium... And heres the kicker... He asks if he can get it on seperate bills!
I flat out, say no.
he asks why...
I inform him that there are youth outside trying to buy cigarettes and that I would not aid them in getting them...
He asks what I mean...
I inform him that since I know that they are trying to get export a medium, I am not going to sell cigarettes to anyone who orders them...
He freaks out and starts calling me every name under the sun...
When he calms down a bit, he tries again, this time ordering two packs of Canadians...
I tell him, again flat out, I have the right to refuse sale to anyone I want for any reason I want (well, asides from racially or sexually discriminating reasons, of course) and that he would not be purchasing cigarettes from me tonight...
(Then I fibbed a little bit)
I told him that when he went outside to give the kids back their money, to also tell them that i had already phoned the cops and that they had promised me they would be on their way...
He screamed at me more, so I said 'fine' grabbed a pack of canadians scanned them through the till, then I asked him for some ID...
He gave me his drivers liscense...
I started writing down the number, the DOB the address (actually, I got about halfway through the name before he figured out what was going on)...
He said f-it, asked for his liscense back and left... He politely lifted his central digit in support of my plight against teenage smokers when he walked past the window (heading east)...
I saw him about 30 seconds later heading west around the back of the pumps (presumably he though he was out of my view) towards the kids...
They dispersed... I was victorious!
My second story happened tonight... Whilst working with another employee...
Someone whom I know to be underage attempted to purchase Export A Lights, I tried to conceal my laughter when he asked at the counter (I was mostly successful)... In order to humour him, I asked him if he had any photo ID... he didn't, and so I informed him no...
He gave me the "buuuut I waaaaaant iiiiiiit" look that you often get from little babies (hence the title of this post) and I told him where to go (maybe not in the most polite way)...
Him and his buddies did go... Around the corner... to solicite adults to purchase them cigarettes...
Again, since I knew the brand, I knew what to look out for, but since I wasn't working by myself, I decided to play this one out a little different...
I told the person I was working with to buzz me if someone bought Export A Lights...
Nothing happened for about 15 minutes...
Then she buzzed me...
A relatively attractive young lady (with proper identification) was purchasing Export A Lights...
When she went outside, I follwed her...
And watched her hand the cigarettes off to the kids... I quickly wrote down her liscence plate, and then approached the youth...
I told them, as sternly as I could to give me the cigarettes...
They played dumb at first (how they could have missed my standing there watching them while the entire thing unfolded is beyond me) but I repeated myself, adding the lines "or I will phone her in and report her"...
They stop playing dumb a little bit, and ask "How are you going to report her?"
I show them the piece of paper with her LP on it... and add (another fib, I know) "The other GSA has her name from her liscense inside"
Being good little boys they handed over the cigarettes, I gave them back the money they paid for them with, and I told them not to come back...
I'm attempting to have at least one of the kids permanently banned from the store (I know his first name and I know hes trouble...
Anyways, just a short little update for you all...
Gnight
Friday, June 24, 2005
Cake Taking
OKay, so I've complained about stupid people making stupid mistakes for well over a year now, but I think this one takes the cake...
If I had to retire this blog today, I think I could live a satisfactory life with this post being the big finally..
Don't worry, it wont be... but I dont think its going to go much higher than this...
An older lady was pumping gas... It was very slow, and most of my chores had been completed... so needless to say, I had involved myself in people watching...
And since she was the only one in the parking lot, she was the one getting watched...
Her [grandaughter?] had also gotten out... I think to coach her through the pumping proceedure... She was wearing a basebaall uniform, stained with grass, so I assume they were comming home for a game...
Neither of them really seemed to know what was going on, but since they managed to get the nosal into the car, i figured there wouldnt be any problems...
And there werent...
Untill...
Don't you love the suspense?
I bet you all are hanging off my every word...
I could go on like this for quite a while, and most of you will keep reading...
But I wont, back to the story...
At $20.00 the lady stopped pumping (I could see oth on the pump and on the till), but until the nosal is hung up, there is always the potential to start pumping again...
Apprently she didnt realize this, and when she puled the nosal out of her car, she was still holding the handle on...
Gas was now pouring out of the pump (at a rate of approximately 0.4L/sec-- personal estimate as to how fast our pumps go)...
She panicked (gasoline can be damaging to paint) and stopped pointing the nosal at her car, and proceeded to whip it around...
She is now pouring it all over her granddaughter...
Panicking again, she turns around more, wrapping the hose around her feet and tripping (still not releasing the nosal)...
It is only when she is sitting on a pool of gasoline next to her petrol soaked car and grandaughter that she lets go of the nosal, and gas stops pumping... At $22.34 = 2.6L (gas was 89.9) = 6.5 seconds
My first though is "Holy shit, so ass is going to light a cigarette and we're all going to die"... remember, cigarettes appear to be common practice with patrons of our store...
My second though is "where is that TBS number to call and ask 'how funny is this'" so they can tell me I'm allowed to be rolling on the ground crying because my diaphragm hurts so much...
Then I though... I should really get the absorbal and clean up the mess as much as I can...
They were both drenched in gasoline...
And I had no idea what to do (I dont think there is a section in our safety manual that says "if a customer rolls around in spilled gasoline, then..."
I told them to dry off as best as possible... After I sent them to the public washroom in order to wet down the gas stained articles of clothing as much as possible... And it took an entire bucket of absorbal to contain the spill...
If I had to retire this blog today, I think I could live a satisfactory life with this post being the big finally..
Don't worry, it wont be... but I dont think its going to go much higher than this...
An older lady was pumping gas... It was very slow, and most of my chores had been completed... so needless to say, I had involved myself in people watching...
And since she was the only one in the parking lot, she was the one getting watched...
Her [grandaughter?] had also gotten out... I think to coach her through the pumping proceedure... She was wearing a basebaall uniform, stained with grass, so I assume they were comming home for a game...
Neither of them really seemed to know what was going on, but since they managed to get the nosal into the car, i figured there wouldnt be any problems...
And there werent...
Untill...
Don't you love the suspense?
I bet you all are hanging off my every word...
I could go on like this for quite a while, and most of you will keep reading...
But I wont, back to the story...
At $20.00 the lady stopped pumping (I could see oth on the pump and on the till), but until the nosal is hung up, there is always the potential to start pumping again...
Apprently she didnt realize this, and when she puled the nosal out of her car, she was still holding the handle on...
Gas was now pouring out of the pump (at a rate of approximately 0.4L/sec-- personal estimate as to how fast our pumps go)...
She panicked (gasoline can be damaging to paint) and stopped pointing the nosal at her car, and proceeded to whip it around...
She is now pouring it all over her granddaughter...
Panicking again, she turns around more, wrapping the hose around her feet and tripping (still not releasing the nosal)...
It is only when she is sitting on a pool of gasoline next to her petrol soaked car and grandaughter that she lets go of the nosal, and gas stops pumping... At $22.34 = 2.6L (gas was 89.9) = 6.5 seconds
My first though is "Holy shit, so ass is going to light a cigarette and we're all going to die"... remember, cigarettes appear to be common practice with patrons of our store...
My second though is "where is that TBS number to call and ask 'how funny is this'" so they can tell me I'm allowed to be rolling on the ground crying because my diaphragm hurts so much...
Then I though... I should really get the absorbal and clean up the mess as much as I can...
They were both drenched in gasoline...
And I had no idea what to do (I dont think there is a section in our safety manual that says "if a customer rolls around in spilled gasoline, then..."
I told them to dry off as best as possible... After I sent them to the public washroom in order to wet down the gas stained articles of clothing as much as possible... And it took an entire bucket of absorbal to contain the spill...
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Comfort Level
It happens that humans, being social creatures, are quite succeptable to forming relationships.
AT leasts thats been my understanding from the various discovery and TLC shows on human behavior have lead me to believe...
And, judging from my experience in the gas station, I would most likely say that it is indeed true...
And I am starting to be on the conversational safe list with several of my regular customers...
Some I dont mind...
For example, the guy who works at the movie store... He gave me his band website...
http://www.myspace.com/manphetamine
And the lady that works for the rocky mountain express tells me about her treks each week (this week shes going to Jasper and Back)...
But I am also becomming popular with the nutballs, too... (I know, it probibly sounds like all my customers are nutballs... but just a fraction of a percent of them are... a very vocal fraction of a percent)
"Do you smoke pot? Cuz im selling"
"I met the chief of the reserve in Kelowna last October"
"My kids don't like it when I talk to their friends"
"can I take this stack of sports action tickets?"
These aren't from the same person, but that would be quite scary...
And people just offload their problems on me... Things I won't bother repeating... Mostly cuz I can;t think of a funny way to say "I think my kids are stealing money from my purse" or "if my boyfriend comes back tonight Im going to kill him"
hardee har har...
Peace out (lol, what a lame way to end this)
AT leasts thats been my understanding from the various discovery and TLC shows on human behavior have lead me to believe...
And, judging from my experience in the gas station, I would most likely say that it is indeed true...
And I am starting to be on the conversational safe list with several of my regular customers...
Some I dont mind...
For example, the guy who works at the movie store... He gave me his band website...
http://www.myspace.com/manphetamine
And the lady that works for the rocky mountain express tells me about her treks each week (this week shes going to Jasper and Back)...
But I am also becomming popular with the nutballs, too... (I know, it probibly sounds like all my customers are nutballs... but just a fraction of a percent of them are... a very vocal fraction of a percent)
"Do you smoke pot? Cuz im selling"
"I met the chief of the reserve in Kelowna last October"
"My kids don't like it when I talk to their friends"
"can I take this stack of sports action tickets?"
These aren't from the same person, but that would be quite scary...
And people just offload their problems on me... Things I won't bother repeating... Mostly cuz I can;t think of a funny way to say "I think my kids are stealing money from my purse" or "if my boyfriend comes back tonight Im going to kill him"
hardee har har...
Peace out (lol, what a lame way to end this)
Monday, June 20, 2005
POS Down
So... My streak of relatively eventless nights has been broken...
At about 2am this morning, PetroCan had a major malfunction... And all of the POS systems went down...
Now, under normal circumstances, this wouldnt be a problem... Of course normal and interac are not two words that go together in Canada... We still have the higest rate of interac usage, leaving a lot of people depndant on the service...
Now, knowing that no interac was going to be quite the problem, signs were placed in strategic places...
On a 12" by 12" plastic board (which happens to be the same yellow/amber colour that is used for road warning signs) were the words "INTERAC UNAVAILABLE"...
We placed these on each of the pumps (In the very centre, right beside where it tells you how much you've pumped), on each side of the glass entry door (slightly below eye level for me, inside and out), at the bank machine (when POS goes down, so does the ABM... we placed it over top of the LCD display)
We also had one on the counter over top of the lotto display...
Get ready for the stupidity...
Guy outside pumps gas, walks through te glass entry door, comes right up to the counter, asks for two packs of cigarettes, and tosses his debit card on the counter...
I gave him the bankest stare I could conjure...
I seriously couldn't believe what I was seeing...
"Well?" he interrupted... I was still staring in disbelief... Blinking occasionally...
"Debit's down"... I wanted to yell and throw the sign at him... But at this point in time, I felt someone had just knocked the wind out of me... with their stupidity...
I had now resorted to trying to blink him away...
Needless to say, it didnt work...
"Why didnt anybody tell me?"
*blink blink blink*
I pointed at the 6 signs I could see from where I was standing (I continued pointing at each one until he looked directly at it, then moved on to the next, and the next, etc)...
He paid with cash, and left... My eyes hurt from blinking...
Not five minutes later aguy pulls up to the pump, gets out, and puts his debit in to pay at the pump...
Fellow employee goes out to inform him that there IS A HUGE YELLOW SIGN THAT SAYS YOU CANT PAY WITH DEBIT! (like my strategic use of caps lock for effect? heh heh heh)
Well, he actually told him debit was unavailable, or something to that accord (I didnt listen in on the conversation)...
Employee comes back in, and we watch the guy at the pump (well... technically we watched the computer (he was behind pump 1 so we couldnt see what he was doing...)
anyways... The computer was giving us the play by play...
**Card Inserted**
**Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable**
**Card Inserted**
**Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable**
**Card Inserted**
**Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable**
Finally he comes inside (now you have to imagine this with a very thick chinese accent)
"Pump no wurkeen"
"Interac is unavailable"
"I put een card, pump no wurkeen!"
"You cannot pay with interac... you have to pay with cash"
"oh"
and he drove off...
At about 2am this morning, PetroCan had a major malfunction... And all of the POS systems went down...
Now, under normal circumstances, this wouldnt be a problem... Of course normal and interac are not two words that go together in Canada... We still have the higest rate of interac usage, leaving a lot of people depndant on the service...
Now, knowing that no interac was going to be quite the problem, signs were placed in strategic places...
On a 12" by 12" plastic board (which happens to be the same yellow/amber colour that is used for road warning signs) were the words "INTERAC UNAVAILABLE"...
We placed these on each of the pumps (In the very centre, right beside where it tells you how much you've pumped), on each side of the glass entry door (slightly below eye level for me, inside and out), at the bank machine (when POS goes down, so does the ABM... we placed it over top of the LCD display)
We also had one on the counter over top of the lotto display...
Get ready for the stupidity...
Guy outside pumps gas, walks through te glass entry door, comes right up to the counter, asks for two packs of cigarettes, and tosses his debit card on the counter...
I gave him the bankest stare I could conjure...
I seriously couldn't believe what I was seeing...
"Well?" he interrupted... I was still staring in disbelief... Blinking occasionally...
"Debit's down"... I wanted to yell and throw the sign at him... But at this point in time, I felt someone had just knocked the wind out of me... with their stupidity...
I had now resorted to trying to blink him away...
Needless to say, it didnt work...
"Why didnt anybody tell me?"
*blink blink blink*
I pointed at the 6 signs I could see from where I was standing (I continued pointing at each one until he looked directly at it, then moved on to the next, and the next, etc)...
He paid with cash, and left... My eyes hurt from blinking...
Not five minutes later aguy pulls up to the pump, gets out, and puts his debit in to pay at the pump...
Fellow employee goes out to inform him that there IS A HUGE YELLOW SIGN THAT SAYS YOU CANT PAY WITH DEBIT! (like my strategic use of caps lock for effect? heh heh heh)
Well, he actually told him debit was unavailable, or something to that accord (I didnt listen in on the conversation)...
Employee comes back in, and we watch the guy at the pump (well... technically we watched the computer (he was behind pump 1 so we couldnt see what he was doing...)
anyways... The computer was giving us the play by play...
**Card Inserted**
**Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable**
**Card Inserted**
**Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable**
**Card Inserted**
**Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable** **Debit Uavailable**
Finally he comes inside (now you have to imagine this with a very thick chinese accent)
"Pump no wurkeen"
"Interac is unavailable"
"I put een card, pump no wurkeen!"
"You cannot pay with interac... you have to pay with cash"
"oh"
and he drove off...
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Patience, Please
I'm sure you can imagine, working in a place where there are a lot of customers, and a lot of tasks to do, there needs to be room for a little bit of oversight... Especially in regards to customers that are doing slightly illogical things...
For example... (we're going back in time to Thursday, because I totally forgot this happened until this morning)
I was doing my other tasks whilst my fellow employee was serving customers...
To be specific, I was changing garbage bags and stocking products...
When I had finished (took about 15 minutes) I loaded myself up with more than an armful of collapsed boxes, and a half dozen relatively full garbage bags- and I headed towards the door, and onward in the dumpster...
Once outside, I noticed the was a car angle parked in the blindpot we have in full serve... The blind spot is the point where both the pillar holding up the building, and pump 7 block the view to any vehicles at pump 8... Normally, you can spot cars at pump 8 when you are walking around the store (as I was) but because she was agle parked, there wasnt a hope in heck of us seeing her, unless one of us happened to go outside..
Why you would angle yourself like that is beyond me... But I shall continue...
I didnt just drop all of the things I was carrying... I made eye contact with the lady, and nodded my head, then walked around the corner and placed all of the junk in a pile out of the way, and then hurried over to full serve...
Now imagine this...
A little old grey haired lady, driving an old ford tempo, with a handicap sign in the rear view mirror...
Now imagine this...
She glares at mean, revs her engine, and speeds out of the parking lot...
And flips me the finger on her way out...
hmm...
For example... (we're going back in time to Thursday, because I totally forgot this happened until this morning)
I was doing my other tasks whilst my fellow employee was serving customers...
To be specific, I was changing garbage bags and stocking products...
When I had finished (took about 15 minutes) I loaded myself up with more than an armful of collapsed boxes, and a half dozen relatively full garbage bags- and I headed towards the door, and onward in the dumpster...
Once outside, I noticed the was a car angle parked in the blindpot we have in full serve... The blind spot is the point where both the pillar holding up the building, and pump 7 block the view to any vehicles at pump 8... Normally, you can spot cars at pump 8 when you are walking around the store (as I was) but because she was agle parked, there wasnt a hope in heck of us seeing her, unless one of us happened to go outside..
Why you would angle yourself like that is beyond me... But I shall continue...
I didnt just drop all of the things I was carrying... I made eye contact with the lady, and nodded my head, then walked around the corner and placed all of the junk in a pile out of the way, and then hurried over to full serve...
Now imagine this...
A little old grey haired lady, driving an old ford tempo, with a handicap sign in the rear view mirror...
Now imagine this...
She glares at mean, revs her engine, and speeds out of the parking lot...
And flips me the finger on her way out...
hmm...
Zieg Heil
Don't be fooled by the clever name of my post... I have not sold my soul in order to be a part of the up and comming fourth reich... My name is just a seguay into my story of the day...
I have officially met the most racist person in the history of the world...
Now, keep in mind, that this is a very large shoe to fill... I have grown up a 'redneck' family, and honky terms for people of other nationalities are not always plesant...
From a very young age I knew what a spic was, and what a wop was, and I could tell you the difference between a chink and a jap (I didnt learn what a gook was until I learned that korean people werent chinks... kidding, please no hate mail)...
Well, needless to say, catching me off guard with racist terms, is a feat...
Well, travel back with me,
to last night, at 11:53
I had just recieved an automated phone call telling me that at 11:59pm, I needed to change the price from 86.9 to 102.2... huge, jump, I know...
Needless to say, in order to avoid any complaining customers, I changed the price of the road sign before I activated the prices at the pump... A long time before...
Now, shortly after I changed the road sign, a lady in a white car pulled up to pump one... At this point in time, the price at the pump was still 86.9, and there were still several other cars pumping gas (at the low price)...
When all the other vehicles had finished pumping (and with the road sign announcing 102.2, not too many new vehicles were comming in), I was waiting on the lone car with a female inside to decide wether she wanted to pump or not...
She was talking on her cell phone, and making no indication of wanting to pump gas... But I still waited..
When she got out of her vehicle, she came straight into the building...
Perhaps she saw the pay-at-the-pump sign... (bwahahahhahahaahaha)
When she came inside, she announced she wanted a pack of dumaurier regs, and headed straight for the washroom (assuming I would have them ready for her when she got back)
Now, under normal circumstances, I would take this to mean 'I just want cigarettes and a toilet'... and as such, I immediately started to change the prices at the pump (I figured I could finish before she got back)...
I missjudged how long it would take, and the price change report was printing just as she got back...
"whats that" she asked...
"its the printoff I get when I activate the prices"
"You changed the prices to 102.2? I'm not going to pay that! Why would you do that? You fucking kike! No you're worse than a Jew! Your worse than a nigger! you're a fucking nigger-jew!" (no, I am serious, this is the chain of logic she followed)
She repeated it a few times before she finally added 'goddamn' before 'nigger-jew'...
So now I'm on a quest...
Being someone of the chirstian persuasion, I know all about being goddamned... In fact, there are entire denominations devoted to picking out the 'god-damned' and seperating them from the 'god-blessed'...
But now I need to find out what a nigger-jew... Is it like a jewgaboo? If you are reading this, and you are in fact a nigger-jew, please inform me, what, exactly, defines you, or your culture...
Anyways, she didnt buy gas, and I totally through her off guard when I yelled "I love you" when she walked out the front door (she gave me the 'are you fucking kidding me' look when she turned around...)
The guy behind me thought the whole ordeal was hillarious... And she flipped me the finger as she drove off...
Goddamn Nigger-Jew hater!
I have officially met the most racist person in the history of the world...
Now, keep in mind, that this is a very large shoe to fill... I have grown up a 'redneck' family, and honky terms for people of other nationalities are not always plesant...
From a very young age I knew what a spic was, and what a wop was, and I could tell you the difference between a chink and a jap (I didnt learn what a gook was until I learned that korean people werent chinks... kidding, please no hate mail)...
Well, needless to say, catching me off guard with racist terms, is a feat...
Well, travel back with me,
to last night, at 11:53
I had just recieved an automated phone call telling me that at 11:59pm, I needed to change the price from 86.9 to 102.2... huge, jump, I know...
Needless to say, in order to avoid any complaining customers, I changed the price of the road sign before I activated the prices at the pump... A long time before...
Now, shortly after I changed the road sign, a lady in a white car pulled up to pump one... At this point in time, the price at the pump was still 86.9, and there were still several other cars pumping gas (at the low price)...
When all the other vehicles had finished pumping (and with the road sign announcing 102.2, not too many new vehicles were comming in), I was waiting on the lone car with a female inside to decide wether she wanted to pump or not...
She was talking on her cell phone, and making no indication of wanting to pump gas... But I still waited..
When she got out of her vehicle, she came straight into the building...
Perhaps she saw the pay-at-the-pump sign... (bwahahahhahahaahaha)
When she came inside, she announced she wanted a pack of dumaurier regs, and headed straight for the washroom (assuming I would have them ready for her when she got back)
Now, under normal circumstances, I would take this to mean 'I just want cigarettes and a toilet'... and as such, I immediately started to change the prices at the pump (I figured I could finish before she got back)...
I missjudged how long it would take, and the price change report was printing just as she got back...
"whats that" she asked...
"its the printoff I get when I activate the prices"
"You changed the prices to 102.2? I'm not going to pay that! Why would you do that? You fucking kike! No you're worse than a Jew! Your worse than a nigger! you're a fucking nigger-jew!" (no, I am serious, this is the chain of logic she followed)
She repeated it a few times before she finally added 'goddamn' before 'nigger-jew'...
So now I'm on a quest...
Being someone of the chirstian persuasion, I know all about being goddamned... In fact, there are entire denominations devoted to picking out the 'god-damned' and seperating them from the 'god-blessed'...
But now I need to find out what a nigger-jew... Is it like a jewgaboo? If you are reading this, and you are in fact a nigger-jew, please inform me, what, exactly, defines you, or your culture...
Anyways, she didnt buy gas, and I totally through her off guard when I yelled "I love you" when she walked out the front door (she gave me the 'are you fucking kidding me' look when she turned around...)
The guy behind me thought the whole ordeal was hillarious... And she flipped me the finger as she drove off...
Goddamn Nigger-Jew hater!
Friday, June 17, 2005
The things I Put up with...
I decided to put up a repetitious name for expressive reasons...
You see, I feel like a broken record, complaining about the same stupid things over and over... and the sad thing is (and anyone in service feel free to back me up) this is because the people I deal with do not improve in intelligence in any way shape or form...
I am dealing with the same stupid issues, often with the same stupid people...
Point and case...
A gentleman comes in and starts screaming at my coworker because the pump charged him an extra $0.42, which he, himself was not willing to pay...
If you read back to last summer, this story has a striking resemblence to the debit lady...
I had a guy come in and very sterly tell me that my piercings are the stupidest thing he's ever seen in my life (I hope his little daughter turns out exceptionally whorish when she grows up... and ends up starring in a piercing fetish gangbang porn flick)
But, again, this is (more or less) what happended last summer...
I've been offered drugs on more occasions than I dare to count; I've seen car accidents caused by people leaving their cars in neutral; and I had to tell mor people not to smoke at a gas station (potential ignition source + volitile liquid + Me = pissed off me)...
Ugh!
And I had to tell more under age punks that their addiction to tobacco means absolutely nothing to me, and that I am not willing to risk losing my job and getting a fine so that they can pretend to be cool...
On the plus side, I am learning basic punjabi (polite greetings, numbers, and a brief explaination of why they shouldn't use fullserve) and I got another raise today (apparently I'm doing an okay job... hehehe... if she only know)
You see, I feel like a broken record, complaining about the same stupid things over and over... and the sad thing is (and anyone in service feel free to back me up) this is because the people I deal with do not improve in intelligence in any way shape or form...
I am dealing with the same stupid issues, often with the same stupid people...
Point and case...
A gentleman comes in and starts screaming at my coworker because the pump charged him an extra $0.42, which he, himself was not willing to pay...
If you read back to last summer, this story has a striking resemblence to the debit lady...
I had a guy come in and very sterly tell me that my piercings are the stupidest thing he's ever seen in my life (I hope his little daughter turns out exceptionally whorish when she grows up... and ends up starring in a piercing fetish gangbang porn flick)
But, again, this is (more or less) what happended last summer...
I've been offered drugs on more occasions than I dare to count; I've seen car accidents caused by people leaving their cars in neutral; and I had to tell mor people not to smoke at a gas station (potential ignition source + volitile liquid + Me = pissed off me)...
Ugh!
And I had to tell more under age punks that their addiction to tobacco means absolutely nothing to me, and that I am not willing to risk losing my job and getting a fine so that they can pretend to be cool...
On the plus side, I am learning basic punjabi (polite greetings, numbers, and a brief explaination of why they shouldn't use fullserve) and I got another raise today (apparently I'm doing an okay job... hehehe... if she only know)
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Things I Put Up With Cuz I Am Paid to Do It
Perhaps the longest title I have ever used... Generally I like to keep them short, but I suppose I'll let this one slide...
Okay, I know your probibly think "holy gees! Another update?"
Well, I'm trying to inflate my ego as much as I can, and the more you guys check back here looking for updates the faster my pave view counter will climb...
Mwahahaha... I'm an evil genius...
Just so you guys dont get your hopes up, this is more a complaint about a lame vehicle than a lame person... And everyone knows I complain better about people than I do about inanimate objects... (although some inanimate objects are significantly more intelligent than some of the people I deal with)...
Well... on to the story...
Two ladies come through full serve...
Actually, they came to get gas and ended up in full serve... They missed the full serve sign (adding to my case towards getting a 'fucking' sign... bwahahaha)...
They didnt really care they were in full serve, as they were in a company vehicle paying with a complany card. Must be nice, eh?
Well, they both step back into the cab of the truck to continue their conversation and leave me to fill their tank...
unbknownst to me, this was going to be the most difficult thing I had ever done (much MUCH more difficult than passing calculus)...
You see, I dont think this truck was designed to fit a conventional gas nozzle...
And by that I mean, the nosal was hard as hell to get in... Thankfully I am the king of getting big things in small holes... or was that small things in big holes... I can never remember...
Regardless... I get the nozzle in there and start pumping away...
Well, if by away, you mean to $0.07... Then, yes, away I went...
Now, I would like to think I know a lot about filling gas tanks up with gasoline... And im pretty certain I know most of the tricks in the book about avoiding the auot kickoff...
But this thing was just retarded... I was angling, I was holding back I was putting the gasoline in so goddamn slow that there is no goddamn way the goddamn thing should have goddamn kincked off...
But it did... After several minutes of fighting, and making it to $2.30 in $.03-.07 incriments, I finally sought out the aid of the two ladies in the car...
Their advice... Turn the nozzle upised down and pump slowly...
I follwed half of their advice (as I wanted to get away from this vehicle of satan as fast as I could), and when it started pumping smoothly, I was so relieved...
...that i forgot that turning the nozzle upside down would render the automatic kickoff completely useless...
...which it did...
...and spilled gasoline... and a lot of it...
I felt like such a tool... Standing there in full serve with litres and litres of gasoline on the ground (well.. it was probibly significantly less than a litre, but that didnt decrease the 'tool' potential)...
Worse yet, there were two tanks to be filled and I was only half way finished (joy!)...
The second thank, I took at a much more leisurely pace... And I was turning red from embarassment... So standing out there for the few minutes that it took felt like death...
I had hoped to retire from the petroleum distribution profession victorious... But this will forever put a smear on my name... and my childrens names...
how will I ever show my face again?
Oh! mac'n'cheese is ready!
Okay, I know your probibly think "holy gees! Another update?"
Well, I'm trying to inflate my ego as much as I can, and the more you guys check back here looking for updates the faster my pave view counter will climb...
Mwahahaha... I'm an evil genius...
Just so you guys dont get your hopes up, this is more a complaint about a lame vehicle than a lame person... And everyone knows I complain better about people than I do about inanimate objects... (although some inanimate objects are significantly more intelligent than some of the people I deal with)...
Well... on to the story...
Two ladies come through full serve...
Actually, they came to get gas and ended up in full serve... They missed the full serve sign (adding to my case towards getting a 'fucking' sign... bwahahaha)...
They didnt really care they were in full serve, as they were in a company vehicle paying with a complany card. Must be nice, eh?
Well, they both step back into the cab of the truck to continue their conversation and leave me to fill their tank...
unbknownst to me, this was going to be the most difficult thing I had ever done (much MUCH more difficult than passing calculus)...
You see, I dont think this truck was designed to fit a conventional gas nozzle...
And by that I mean, the nosal was hard as hell to get in... Thankfully I am the king of getting big things in small holes... or was that small things in big holes... I can never remember...
Regardless... I get the nozzle in there and start pumping away...
Well, if by away, you mean to $0.07... Then, yes, away I went...
Now, I would like to think I know a lot about filling gas tanks up with gasoline... And im pretty certain I know most of the tricks in the book about avoiding the auot kickoff...
But this thing was just retarded... I was angling, I was holding back I was putting the gasoline in so goddamn slow that there is no goddamn way the goddamn thing should have goddamn kincked off...
But it did... After several minutes of fighting, and making it to $2.30 in $.03-.07 incriments, I finally sought out the aid of the two ladies in the car...
Their advice... Turn the nozzle upised down and pump slowly...
I follwed half of their advice (as I wanted to get away from this vehicle of satan as fast as I could), and when it started pumping smoothly, I was so relieved...
...that i forgot that turning the nozzle upside down would render the automatic kickoff completely useless...
...which it did...
...and spilled gasoline... and a lot of it...
I felt like such a tool... Standing there in full serve with litres and litres of gasoline on the ground (well.. it was probibly significantly less than a litre, but that didnt decrease the 'tool' potential)...
Worse yet, there were two tanks to be filled and I was only half way finished (joy!)...
The second thank, I took at a much more leisurely pace... And I was turning red from embarassment... So standing out there for the few minutes that it took felt like death...
I had hoped to retire from the petroleum distribution profession victorious... But this will forever put a smear on my name... and my childrens names...
how will I ever show my face again?
Oh! mac'n'cheese is ready!
Tiresome People
My title for this is slightly misleading... There is actually only one person whom was really tiresome...
I'll give you a hint she was a customer... and she was bitchy...
Thats right, a bitchy customer...
Well, I bet you all know I have a story to tell...
I was in the midst of serving a customer (my co-worker was stocking the potato chips) when a full serve pulled up...
I was just waiting for the debit to go through, so I yelled to my co-worker that all was fine, and that I would get the full serve so she could continue putting away the salty-packaged-bags-o'-potato-goodness...
Enter the bitch...
She had come running in from the full serve pump (keep in mind this is a period of about 20 seconds between swiping the card, customer entering debit info, and recipt getting printed... we are the most debiting country in the world, you should all be familiar with the process)... She throws (and I mean balls up and physically tosses) a $5 bill at me all the while saying in a raised and angry tone "If we have to prepay there should be a fucking sign"
I wanted to shout back "If you didnt see the fucking full serve sign then why the fuck would you see the prepay sign?"
but I didnt...
The moral of the story is i want to now petition to put up a sign that says "fucking only"... or something... That was whenever someone tells me I "need to have a fucking sign" I can point to it...
I'll give you a hint she was a customer... and she was bitchy...
Thats right, a bitchy customer...
Well, I bet you all know I have a story to tell...
I was in the midst of serving a customer (my co-worker was stocking the potato chips) when a full serve pulled up...
I was just waiting for the debit to go through, so I yelled to my co-worker that all was fine, and that I would get the full serve so she could continue putting away the salty-packaged-bags-o'-potato-goodness...
Enter the bitch...
She had come running in from the full serve pump (keep in mind this is a period of about 20 seconds between swiping the card, customer entering debit info, and recipt getting printed... we are the most debiting country in the world, you should all be familiar with the process)... She throws (and I mean balls up and physically tosses) a $5 bill at me all the while saying in a raised and angry tone "If we have to prepay there should be a fucking sign"
I wanted to shout back "If you didnt see the fucking full serve sign then why the fuck would you see the prepay sign?"
but I didnt...
The moral of the story is i want to now petition to put up a sign that says "fucking only"... or something... That was whenever someone tells me I "need to have a fucking sign" I can point to it...
Monday, June 13, 2005
Weekend
So its been a few days since my last update.. I apologise.. I worked a lot this weekend and time that I wasn't working, I wasn;t sitting on my ass in front of the computer (I know its hard to believe but youre going to have to just accept it)...
Where to start...
If I said that I just had the most entertaining weekend of work ever, I would be lying out of my ass... It was, more or less, painful from the very get go...
Thursday night started off alright, I had reached my upsell quotient before 11pm (I know, woot woot) Thats when it all went to hell... People just stopped comming... Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't be complaining about this, buts it has been a long while since I worked a weekday graveyard, and I have to say, it was dead... I was taking back to back smoke breaks to pass the time after I had done all my chores and whatnot...
And then, during the last hour where I'm supposed to prep the store to switch shifts (change the mop water, brew the different flavors of coffee etc), people just started swarming the store... Welcome to the weekday commute... Which I had totally forgotten about... Next thing I know, Im selling out of coffee as fast as I can make it, I have customers lined up at the pumps and at the till, I can't get the store in to lockdown to change the mop water, and I havent even started counting cigarettes...
The morning staff thought it was hillarious...
After getting home and having a brief nap, I woke up to go tux shopping 9cuz i needed a tux)... Follwed by movies with friends followed by another graveyard shift...
And let me say, this one was fun...
It started off busy (as fridays usually do)... My friends (who stopped by) noted how many more people are at our gas station as compared to the gas station of another friend... I had already attempted for 20 minues to clean up an amazing large slurpee spill (I think somneone somehow managed to hook a hose to the slurpee dispenser and allow it to flow directly onto the floor) of which no customer thought to inform me... but judging by the number of foot prints trudged through the store, they all went out of their way to walk through it... I was failing, more or less, at the cleanup, but I was at least able to get most of the colour gone... just not the goo-stick that I so much detest...
So back to my story... My friends are trudging through the store, trying to entertain themselves until I have a few free moments (doesnt happen too often, but they were hopeful) when Shannon (shannonspoetry.blogspot.com) informs me that someone had knocked over a conatiner of $0.05 candies... She then points at the purp. whom was trying to conceal his identity over at the sunglasses and magazine station of the store... I'm still trying to serve customers, so i bribe shannon and sharon (sharessharing.blogspot.com) with slurpees to clean it up for me...
After they are finished, and we have chatted a little bit, the guy finally comes up to the counter to pay for his things (a bottle of pop and a few candies) and informs me
"I may have spilled a few candies"
First off, this is several minutes after the initial incident, and a few minutes after the cleanup (which he was standing next to, and not participating in), and it was a large tub of candies... not a few... And why the fuck would you walk away from sucha big mess... And why the fuck would you admit to it, and then not apologise? Did he not see that i had to get patrons of my store to clean it up for him? did he not see that there was a lot of candy that can no longer be sold because of his actions?
I know, Im getting upset over candies... And I think I handled it really well... but I think I burned a hole through his jacket with my glaring...
And thats not where it ends folks (well.. thats where that story ends...)
Not more than a few minutes after this guy, two sketch guys come into the store and make some relatively sketch purchases on a totally sketch credit card, that had conviniently lost the magnitivity of its magnetic strip...
O of course, phoned visa...
It took about 10 minutes (maybe 15... I can never really be sure, Im horrible at guessing time)... But visa gave me clearance on the card, and everything was hunky dory... Except for the fact, that this entire time, I was not able to serve any other customers... who were lining up in throngs... and looking angrier by the minute...
I was throwing out free coffee and slurpees like confetti at time square to appease the horde...
I finally managed to get my baking started at 130 that night (normally it would be done and I would have been doing dished by that time) So needless to say, nothing got done... Especially when you consider that some drunk wench (I'm talking sleazy bar wench, not hot pirate ship wench) spent like 25 minutes going through the store looking for something to eat to make herself feel better... she was obviously upset about something... maybe she finally realised how whoreish kneehigh stilleto boots, short-shorts and a clevage based tanktop (sans bra) made her look... but who am I to jusdge, right?
While she was looking for comfort food, I was forced to do only duties which can be done in plain sight of the entirity of the sotre... ie: stock things, and clean counters...
Now, I dont know about you, but once youve cleaned a counter, it generally remains clean for quite a while (unless children are buying slurpees nearby)... so towards the end of her little shopping experience, I was banging my hear on the glass lotto display to pass the time...
My night ended rather abruptly... Like I said, I didnt have a chance to getmost of my work done, and so I was frantically running around to get things done when the morning staff showed up...
Saturday was a bit more entertaining...
A friend from highschool... Well, sorta a friend, we got along quite well, but we stopped talking after our school split up into clayton/tweedsmuir... Came in and ordered cigarettes... now my friend isn't actually the eldest looking fellow, but since he was in my grad class, he is, at the very least, 20 years old, and so giving him his cigarettes wasn;t a problem at all... in fact, I will go so far as to say it was a problem free transaction... Well... My having not asked for I.D. gave balls to the twelve year olds in the store, who proceeded to come up to the counter with (I'm not making this up... I don't think I could make this up) a bottle of orange crush, a pack of bubbalicious bubble gum, and, here's the punchline, asked for a pack of captain blacks...
I tried my darndest not to laugh... (It's happened 'fore that a person whom I though looked no more than 15 had two pieces of photo identification, and a health care card prooving that he was 27... I felt like an ass...) I asked for some ID, they said they didnt have any, I said no ID no sale...
The words that came out of their mouth after that was something I will not repeat here... I'm sure you can guess what sort of explatives they used (a few of them I've already used in this post)...
Then they go off on "you let that last kidbuy smokes without ID" to which I replied "you mean tyler whom I've known for 8 years and who graduated the same year as I?"
That shut them up... and they ended up not buying their candies and pop...
Fucking pretentious little shits...
But I digress...
Finally, I got called in for a shift sunday evening (I covered for a sick staff member... not because I need the added stress, more because I know that if I ever need a day off, it's better to have specific instances to refer to)
It was just a four hour shift... But we couldn't keep the slurpee off of the floor...
It was just spill after spill after spill...
I was considering doing a 'Hulk' like thing and picking the slurpe machines up off the floor and throwing them though the large glass wall at the front of the store, and then running through the streets causing havoc...
But I didn't...
And that was my weekend...
(I also ate quish, kabobs, lamb, basil, and pepperoni somewhere in there, too... but I figured that was implied...)
Where to start...
If I said that I just had the most entertaining weekend of work ever, I would be lying out of my ass... It was, more or less, painful from the very get go...
Thursday night started off alright, I had reached my upsell quotient before 11pm (I know, woot woot) Thats when it all went to hell... People just stopped comming... Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't be complaining about this, buts it has been a long while since I worked a weekday graveyard, and I have to say, it was dead... I was taking back to back smoke breaks to pass the time after I had done all my chores and whatnot...
And then, during the last hour where I'm supposed to prep the store to switch shifts (change the mop water, brew the different flavors of coffee etc), people just started swarming the store... Welcome to the weekday commute... Which I had totally forgotten about... Next thing I know, Im selling out of coffee as fast as I can make it, I have customers lined up at the pumps and at the till, I can't get the store in to lockdown to change the mop water, and I havent even started counting cigarettes...
The morning staff thought it was hillarious...
After getting home and having a brief nap, I woke up to go tux shopping 9cuz i needed a tux)... Follwed by movies with friends followed by another graveyard shift...
And let me say, this one was fun...
It started off busy (as fridays usually do)... My friends (who stopped by) noted how many more people are at our gas station as compared to the gas station of another friend... I had already attempted for 20 minues to clean up an amazing large slurpee spill (I think somneone somehow managed to hook a hose to the slurpee dispenser and allow it to flow directly onto the floor) of which no customer thought to inform me... but judging by the number of foot prints trudged through the store, they all went out of their way to walk through it... I was failing, more or less, at the cleanup, but I was at least able to get most of the colour gone... just not the goo-stick that I so much detest...
So back to my story... My friends are trudging through the store, trying to entertain themselves until I have a few free moments (doesnt happen too often, but they were hopeful) when Shannon (shannonspoetry.blogspot.com) informs me that someone had knocked over a conatiner of $0.05 candies... She then points at the purp. whom was trying to conceal his identity over at the sunglasses and magazine station of the store... I'm still trying to serve customers, so i bribe shannon and sharon (sharessharing.blogspot.com) with slurpees to clean it up for me...
After they are finished, and we have chatted a little bit, the guy finally comes up to the counter to pay for his things (a bottle of pop and a few candies) and informs me
"I may have spilled a few candies"
First off, this is several minutes after the initial incident, and a few minutes after the cleanup (which he was standing next to, and not participating in), and it was a large tub of candies... not a few... And why the fuck would you walk away from sucha big mess... And why the fuck would you admit to it, and then not apologise? Did he not see that i had to get patrons of my store to clean it up for him? did he not see that there was a lot of candy that can no longer be sold because of his actions?
I know, Im getting upset over candies... And I think I handled it really well... but I think I burned a hole through his jacket with my glaring...
And thats not where it ends folks (well.. thats where that story ends...)
Not more than a few minutes after this guy, two sketch guys come into the store and make some relatively sketch purchases on a totally sketch credit card, that had conviniently lost the magnitivity of its magnetic strip...
O of course, phoned visa...
It took about 10 minutes (maybe 15... I can never really be sure, Im horrible at guessing time)... But visa gave me clearance on the card, and everything was hunky dory... Except for the fact, that this entire time, I was not able to serve any other customers... who were lining up in throngs... and looking angrier by the minute...
I was throwing out free coffee and slurpees like confetti at time square to appease the horde...
I finally managed to get my baking started at 130 that night (normally it would be done and I would have been doing dished by that time) So needless to say, nothing got done... Especially when you consider that some drunk wench (I'm talking sleazy bar wench, not hot pirate ship wench) spent like 25 minutes going through the store looking for something to eat to make herself feel better... she was obviously upset about something... maybe she finally realised how whoreish kneehigh stilleto boots, short-shorts and a clevage based tanktop (sans bra) made her look... but who am I to jusdge, right?
While she was looking for comfort food, I was forced to do only duties which can be done in plain sight of the entirity of the sotre... ie: stock things, and clean counters...
Now, I dont know about you, but once youve cleaned a counter, it generally remains clean for quite a while (unless children are buying slurpees nearby)... so towards the end of her little shopping experience, I was banging my hear on the glass lotto display to pass the time...
My night ended rather abruptly... Like I said, I didnt have a chance to getmost of my work done, and so I was frantically running around to get things done when the morning staff showed up...
Saturday was a bit more entertaining...
A friend from highschool... Well, sorta a friend, we got along quite well, but we stopped talking after our school split up into clayton/tweedsmuir... Came in and ordered cigarettes... now my friend isn't actually the eldest looking fellow, but since he was in my grad class, he is, at the very least, 20 years old, and so giving him his cigarettes wasn;t a problem at all... in fact, I will go so far as to say it was a problem free transaction... Well... My having not asked for I.D. gave balls to the twelve year olds in the store, who proceeded to come up to the counter with (I'm not making this up... I don't think I could make this up) a bottle of orange crush, a pack of bubbalicious bubble gum, and, here's the punchline, asked for a pack of captain blacks...
I tried my darndest not to laugh... (It's happened 'fore that a person whom I though looked no more than 15 had two pieces of photo identification, and a health care card prooving that he was 27... I felt like an ass...) I asked for some ID, they said they didnt have any, I said no ID no sale...
The words that came out of their mouth after that was something I will not repeat here... I'm sure you can guess what sort of explatives they used (a few of them I've already used in this post)...
Then they go off on "you let that last kidbuy smokes without ID" to which I replied "you mean tyler whom I've known for 8 years and who graduated the same year as I?"
That shut them up... and they ended up not buying their candies and pop...
Fucking pretentious little shits...
But I digress...
Finally, I got called in for a shift sunday evening (I covered for a sick staff member... not because I need the added stress, more because I know that if I ever need a day off, it's better to have specific instances to refer to)
It was just a four hour shift... But we couldn't keep the slurpee off of the floor...
It was just spill after spill after spill...
I was considering doing a 'Hulk' like thing and picking the slurpe machines up off the floor and throwing them though the large glass wall at the front of the store, and then running through the streets causing havoc...
But I didn't...
And that was my weekend...
(I also ate quish, kabobs, lamb, basil, and pepperoni somewhere in there, too... but I figured that was implied...)
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Customer Loyalty Cards
I hope everyone here understands the purpose of customer loyalty cards... And why places like Save-on, Safeway and petro can use them... So we can track the spending habits of an indivual that we know the (age group, gender and marital status) of, providing us with needed information as to what sorts of items that (agre group/gender/marital status) is buying... This information is extremely valuable in regards to marketing, and far outweighs the cost of providing discounts to the consumer... We are, after all a profit driven private enterprise (thank you privitization of canadas natural resources several decades ago)... Anyways...
A guy comes in this evening, and gives me all boat loads of heck because I can't manually override the compute to take 3.5 cents off per litre (thus defeating the purpose of the 3.5 cents per litre in encouraging the consumers to use the very valuable card)...
I kept trying to beat it into his ever thickening skull that I am not able to provide him the benefits of a program which he refuses to participate in...
Then he goes into 'rage' script one section b (we've all heard it before): "blah blah blah you're incompetent... blah blah blah I'll call you're boss... blah blah blah enjoy working tonight cuz you're going to be fired tomorrow... blah blah blah I'm never shopping here again..."
*yawn*
Do people not realize that once you aknowlege you will be refraining from purchasing items or services, companies have no interest in providing those services and items... A person on a forum once told me that is why you get such crappy service when you cancel a cell phone or a long distance plan... Thats where the trainees or the "inch away from being fired"'s are put...
Like my boss is going to bend over backwards to help a customer who openly admits to never comming into our store again, so that he can rip her off 3.5 cents for every litre he puts in his dodge minivan...
I'll start looking for a new job on monday...
A guy comes in this evening, and gives me all boat loads of heck because I can't manually override the compute to take 3.5 cents off per litre (thus defeating the purpose of the 3.5 cents per litre in encouraging the consumers to use the very valuable card)...
I kept trying to beat it into his ever thickening skull that I am not able to provide him the benefits of a program which he refuses to participate in...
Then he goes into 'rage' script one section b (we've all heard it before): "blah blah blah you're incompetent... blah blah blah I'll call you're boss... blah blah blah enjoy working tonight cuz you're going to be fired tomorrow... blah blah blah I'm never shopping here again..."
*yawn*
Do people not realize that once you aknowlege you will be refraining from purchasing items or services, companies have no interest in providing those services and items... A person on a forum once told me that is why you get such crappy service when you cancel a cell phone or a long distance plan... Thats where the trainees or the "inch away from being fired"'s are put...
Like my boss is going to bend over backwards to help a customer who openly admits to never comming into our store again, so that he can rip her off 3.5 cents for every litre he puts in his dodge minivan...
I'll start looking for a new job on monday...
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