Over the past decade or so, the media has seen it's ratings drop. Considerably. They have tried putting new anchors on. They have tried spicing up the programming. They have even started this "investigative reporting" stuff, where they snoop around trying to create news, instead of leaving it alone. Now, granted, some of the stuff they have uncovered was beneficial to the community, but quite a bit of it was unnecessary.
Yes, the media has even taken the "News for YOU" approach, like we are on the same side. Yea right. You aren't on my side. You don't even know me! I bet I can tell you what your news is like though, assuming you even watch it. Its quite scary.
It starts with News at 6, or whatever hour your media hype comes on. Often times, it has a sylized number of the channel you are watching. They will try and be cute, and have the time match the channel. 6 News at 6. 11 News at 11. 7:30 news...at 7:30. Then they show the four dunces they threw up there to "report" the news.
You are going to have your two anchors. One is a man, the other a woman. (This is true for all but a very select few). Then it will be Jack Stumphump with Weather, and Don Notalent with Sports. Thats whats on the menu, and it doesn't matter what channel you change it to. Thats what you are getting. General news, weather, and sports. You know why weather and sports get their own person for coverage? Because there are other programs that do just weather and sports. (ie the Weather Channel, and ESPN).
So, the two anchors will kick off the night, and these two people are total drones, it makes your head spin. Half the time, they don't know what they are saying, they are just reading from the teleprompter. You could have someone put up on that screen they read that they are sitting in dog vomit, and they wouldn't bat an eye. After they are done with a story, the sometimes will have a brief, 10 second "conversation" about it, but it usually is, "Wow, thats interesting," and the response is just as negligible, because they have no idea what they just read. Then, they kick it over to Jack with Weather.
Now, this meteorologist is even a bigger joke. You see, there are two types of meteorologists. The ones who live in a static climate, and the ones who don't. For the meteorologists who live in a static climate, their job is a no brainer. Hawaii is a good example. Oh look, its sunny. Back to you. Don't believe me? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-TfZslHKoo
Then the other meteorologist lives somewhere North of the mason dixon line, and not in California. They come up with crap like, partly sunny today, with a chance of showers. Highs in the 70s. Can you get much more vague than that?! Good lord pal, do you have any idea whats going on? Of course not, because you can't predict the weather! You can guess the weather. Even then, its just a guess. They will then try to emphasize their point home by waving their hand over a general area where there might be some green on the radar a little later, indicating there might be some showers. I wish I had a job where I could never be right.
And speaking of these radars, how much more ridiculous do the names have to get? You get all these fancy "high tech" weather radars like the Doppler, the Stormtrack, and the Joan Rivers, and they still can't get an accurate depiction of what is going on. I am becoming more and more certain that that is why the economy is tanking. There is too much money invested in innacurate weather radars.
Then the Weather guy kicks it over to the Sports guy. Ugh. Here is a waste of time. This dude is forced to tell us about the local High School Women's Lacrosse team instead of Game 3 of the Stanley Cup Finals, because he is trying to maintain his "local good guy image." Fuck em. No one gives a crap about High School sports except people in High School, and they don't normally watch the news. So why is he telling us about stuff we don't care about? Because if you want Game 3 of the Stanley Cup Finals, you turn into ESPN, or the NHL Network. You dont' need to get your news from some yokel.
Despite the shortcomings of the Anchors, Weatherman and Sports guy, the real cause for the drops in ratings has nothing to do with the people you see on TV. It has everything to do with the Producers of the news. The people behind the scenes are why the American public is tuning out. Its very easy to understand. The news is negative.
All you ever hear about is rapings, shootings, killings, kidnappings, stabbings, theft, police chases, assault, escaped criminals, sex offenders, fires, explosions, car pile ups, deaths, and the occasional political drabble, which 9 times out of 10, is the worst on the list. You never hear about the charity walks, the woman who saves a boy from drowning, or the house that was just built for a homeless family. You don't hear anything about this stuff either. http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,522061,00.html Why? Because apparently, thats not what we want to hear. Apparently, the Producers feel the other stuff is more important. Apparently, they are wrong. The ratings are screaming at them that they are wrong, but they are so obsessed with the negative, they don't want to report the positive. When it comes right down to it, people are sick of it. They are sick of the negative.
And what makes it worse, is its always the same story. Dude shoots baby's momma. Shoots kid. Takes money. Runs. Here's a mug shot. He is still on the loose. Any information, call Crime Stoppers. Next story, fire kills 22 sleeping orphans as person in charge was strung out on coke. She is expected to make a full recovery. Its a tragedy.
There is the other thing that bothers me about the news. The word "tragedy" has lost all punch. It is a dead word. A tragedy is what Shakespeare wrote. What happens in the news is rarely a tragedy. Its an unfortunate event. A tragedy is when the Main Character has to make a choice, and he is damned no matter what. He can't win. The prime example of a modern day tragedy would be when a cop has to shoot a kid that has a gun pulled on him. If he doesn't shoot the kid, he dies, if he does shoot the kid, the kid dies, which is never cool. So no matter the choice, the cop is fucked, and the kid probably is too. No winners, hence, a tragedy. Either way, its negative.
And this is why Generation X, as we have been dubbed, gets such a bad rap. Its because all the negativity is reported, and none of the good stuff is reported. And it doesn't stop with the news either. It spreads all over the media. TV, Newspaper, Magazines, Radio, petty little blogs, and so on. You name it. Its everywhere. Thats why I tuned out. I burned a CD, and thats what I listen to. That and the Cubs games. (Ron Santo is the new Harry Caray).
-Deimos
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
TPS Report 05/22/2009
Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn. You see, women are only abled to be pushed so far before it backlashes. The problem men face is that they don't know when to quit, or for that matter, when they shouldn't even start. In all honesty, this guy had it coming.
Numbnut of the day comes up and sets a piece of discounted glass on the counter. This is not too odd, since we are at the hardware and lumber register of the store. I alter the price of the item, and it comes up to $5.86.
Now, even I can manage $5.86, but apparently, this dude couldn't. I saw some bills in his wallet when he opened it, but I couldn't tell what they were. He says, hang on, my wife has 100 bucks I wanna get changed. I am thinking his wife is down the hall or something. No, she is in the parking lot. He starts yelling at her from inside the store to his truck halfway out of the parking lot.
Now, granted, the double doors to the parking lot are right by the register, and they are open, but seriously dude. How dumb can you be? No matter how loud or menacing you sound, she is not going to hear you. So he struts out there and goes to the car, leaving the glass on the counter, and the line forming behind him.
He finally gets back into the store 2 1/2 minutes later (I kid you not). It looked like he was coming up, but then he would go and head back out. The line was getting rather impatient, and it wasn't with me. (Most of the customers down in Hardware are pretty cool, and I usually don't mind working down there.)
So, finally, this woman comes in with him, and she looks pissed off something proper. I would be too. This guy was yellin' all sorts of profanities to get her in the store. I decided it was in my best health to make this guy look like a total asshole, and save me the wrath of this very irate woman. She asks the total. I regurgitate the number of $5.86.
She says, no, I mean, for all the items. Miss, that is all the items. Its just that one. Her eyes get very wide as she starts to tremble. Its like watching a volcano. "Say what?!" she screams.
Score.
"Boy, you gots 15 bucks in yo' wallet, Why the fuck did I have to come in here?!" The dude yells back at her that he wanted to get the 100 dollar bill changed.
Oof. Wrong answer there pal. She is very pissed. She hands me the 100, and I give her her change as quickly as possible. I try not to make direct eye contact. I am afraid lazers will come out of her eyes and seer my skin off.
Now, first of all, if you got money, why the hell would you go back out into the parking lot and have your "signifcant other" pay for something. (Not sure if they were married. Probably were.) Secondly, whats the point in getting that 100 dollar bill in the first place if you are just going to have it cashed? Why not carry 20s instead? The point of a 100 dollar bill is so if you have to make a heavy purchase, your wallet isn't bloaded like a fat guy at the buffet. They aren't meant to be "cashed." Checks are cashed. Not 100s. Moron.
However, the best was yet to come! So after the dysfunctional duo leave, I start ringing out another customer. It is at this point, we hear yelling in the parking lot. We turn to see the couple arguing and screaming profanities at one another. The guy has made a serious tactical error, however. You see, when he came inside, he left the woman in the truck, so not only does his wife, or whomever, have most of the money currently on them, but she also has...the keys to the truck.
The last I saw of them was the dude running after his ride as it was turning right out of the parking lot. The remaining customers and I had a field day with this, laughing it up at this moron's lack of foresight, and overall general stupidity. (Like I said, most of the hardware/lumber customers are pretty cool). I mean, honestly. You never piss off A) A woman B) A woman you have emotional ties with C) A woman with the only keys to the car.
* * *
Self Checkout Species Files:
The "Checker:" This customer does just fine scanning items. In fact, they are a natural. They don't trip the scale, and only bring items that will actually fit on the scale. They are very adept at hiding their idiocy. Alas, it always comes out in the end. After everything is said and done, they opt to write a check...in self checkout. Um, and who is going to verify this check? That's right, someone else. Me. Making this a waste of time, as once again, people do not understand what self checkout means. Also, more often than not, the Checker will use their knee as a table, and where will they put their foot? On the scale of course.
-Deimos
Numbnut of the day comes up and sets a piece of discounted glass on the counter. This is not too odd, since we are at the hardware and lumber register of the store. I alter the price of the item, and it comes up to $5.86.
Now, even I can manage $5.86, but apparently, this dude couldn't. I saw some bills in his wallet when he opened it, but I couldn't tell what they were. He says, hang on, my wife has 100 bucks I wanna get changed. I am thinking his wife is down the hall or something. No, she is in the parking lot. He starts yelling at her from inside the store to his truck halfway out of the parking lot.
Now, granted, the double doors to the parking lot are right by the register, and they are open, but seriously dude. How dumb can you be? No matter how loud or menacing you sound, she is not going to hear you. So he struts out there and goes to the car, leaving the glass on the counter, and the line forming behind him.
He finally gets back into the store 2 1/2 minutes later (I kid you not). It looked like he was coming up, but then he would go and head back out. The line was getting rather impatient, and it wasn't with me. (Most of the customers down in Hardware are pretty cool, and I usually don't mind working down there.)
So, finally, this woman comes in with him, and she looks pissed off something proper. I would be too. This guy was yellin' all sorts of profanities to get her in the store. I decided it was in my best health to make this guy look like a total asshole, and save me the wrath of this very irate woman. She asks the total. I regurgitate the number of $5.86.
She says, no, I mean, for all the items. Miss, that is all the items. Its just that one. Her eyes get very wide as she starts to tremble. Its like watching a volcano. "Say what?!" she screams.
Score.
"Boy, you gots 15 bucks in yo' wallet, Why the fuck did I have to come in here?!" The dude yells back at her that he wanted to get the 100 dollar bill changed.
Oof. Wrong answer there pal. She is very pissed. She hands me the 100, and I give her her change as quickly as possible. I try not to make direct eye contact. I am afraid lazers will come out of her eyes and seer my skin off.
Now, first of all, if you got money, why the hell would you go back out into the parking lot and have your "signifcant other" pay for something. (Not sure if they were married. Probably were.) Secondly, whats the point in getting that 100 dollar bill in the first place if you are just going to have it cashed? Why not carry 20s instead? The point of a 100 dollar bill is so if you have to make a heavy purchase, your wallet isn't bloaded like a fat guy at the buffet. They aren't meant to be "cashed." Checks are cashed. Not 100s. Moron.
However, the best was yet to come! So after the dysfunctional duo leave, I start ringing out another customer. It is at this point, we hear yelling in the parking lot. We turn to see the couple arguing and screaming profanities at one another. The guy has made a serious tactical error, however. You see, when he came inside, he left the woman in the truck, so not only does his wife, or whomever, have most of the money currently on them, but she also has...the keys to the truck.
The last I saw of them was the dude running after his ride as it was turning right out of the parking lot. The remaining customers and I had a field day with this, laughing it up at this moron's lack of foresight, and overall general stupidity. (Like I said, most of the hardware/lumber customers are pretty cool). I mean, honestly. You never piss off A) A woman B) A woman you have emotional ties with C) A woman with the only keys to the car.
* * *
Self Checkout Species Files:
The "Checker:" This customer does just fine scanning items. In fact, they are a natural. They don't trip the scale, and only bring items that will actually fit on the scale. They are very adept at hiding their idiocy. Alas, it always comes out in the end. After everything is said and done, they opt to write a check...in self checkout. Um, and who is going to verify this check? That's right, someone else. Me. Making this a waste of time, as once again, people do not understand what self checkout means. Also, more often than not, the Checker will use their knee as a table, and where will they put their foot? On the scale of course.
-Deimos
TPS Report 05/20/2009
Today's report comes to you from the outside section of the store. We commonly refer to it as Lawn and Garden. (LG from here on out). The lines are always very long, and there is a certain type of customer in the outer fringes of the store.
You see, in general, when people buy plants, flowers, or vegetables, they buy them en masse. And I mean this wholeheartedly. They will come up with flatbeds full of plantlife. Now, my ergonomic gamer loving ass with allergies shouldn't be outside that long to begin with. But when you add the fact that there is almost a never-ending conga line going through that checkout, the day can seem to drag on.
Now, the customers out there are really broken into two types. There are the really cool ones who understand that the people in front and behind them each have 50 items to ring up, and they also have a cartload of stuff as well. They are totally cool with waiting because human beings are only capable of moving so fast. (This includes other customers digging for exact change).
The other type is the one I will have to write about. These are the hippies whose time is far too valuable and have the patience of a 2 year old wanting candy. They tend to be rude, snotty, and overall unpleasant in their quest for a completely organic life. Today's episode is one of these "people."
A couple comes up, and begins putting their stuff on my register space before I am done with the customer ahead of them. This is always a bad omen, and often times, I wonder if people really know how rude they are being. So after the other customer has to push her stuff out of the way to swipe his credit card, I could see the vein in her forehead throbbing already that someone has dared challenge her universe.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
Now, note, it is daylight out while this is happening. It is also quite hot. I will explain later why this is important. So the woman shoves her stuff into the center of the counter, and I begin scanning. I scan the five plants or so she has on there before I raise my little lazer gun and look down at her flatbed where she has more garden style tools awaiting purchase.
Now, my little lazer gun is cordless, so when I need to do these types of things, like scanning items near the ground, it is easier for me to do so. But, when I bring my gun up to rest on my shoulder, the woman begins screaming at me.
"Watch what you are doing, you could have blinded me!"
Now, at this point, I am thinking she has to be talking to someone else. Perhaps another customer almost poked her in the eye with a stick or something. However, when I turn around, there she is, red faced with that stupid vein in her forehead again, and she is staring at me. Someone as old as this lady should not be able to get her face that red, unless she got trapped in a tanning booth. It just isn't healthy. I look around to make sure I am understanding that she is in fact, yelling at me.
I respond very politely (this was a mistake) and ask her what she is talking about. Her response? I could have blinded her with the lazer.
Wow.
OK, first of all, this lazer can barely scan the damn barcodes you people bring up here. The barcodes are covered with dirt, grime, and God knows what else. These little lazers are thin beams that flicker in and out, and barely work. Secondly, they only work when I am pulling the trigger. They aren't really substantial lazers that stay on afterwards. Because of these two things, this lazer is clearly NOT strong enough to do any real damage to your eyes unless you stared at it for a good week or so. Thirdly...it's daytime! (Told you this would come back). How the fuck can you even see the damned lazer is beyond me, because I focus at where it is on the barcode, and I can't see it most of the time. You mean to tell me you could even though you don't know where its specifically pointed at? No. I doubt it.
I try to politely explain that she was not in danger of this lazer. (Again, a mistake. I should have learned at this point). She then proceeds to go off on me. I really don't give a rat's ass. I am ready for my lunch break. The guy with her (assumingly her husband) is rolling his eyes in great pain, as if wishing this bitch would just shut her piehole and pay for her damn flora.
After I ring up the items, and suppress my laughing, I give them the total. The guy swipes his gift card he had, and it takes care of most of the bill. He then pulls out his credit card, and after he swipes it, Lazer Bitch waves a coupon in my face, saying I need to take 10 dollars off the card.
Score.
You see, I can't scan the coupon now that the gift card has been swiped. The computer won't let me back out. Haha Beeotch. She then starts throwing a temper tantrum, and the dude with her just shakes his head and swipes his card. I roll my eyes at him. We both smile. I feel his pain. I actually almost pity him. I mean, after this, I don't have to put up with her shit. He does. Thats what you get for marrying a succubus.
Of course, I always get the last laugh on customers like these if I can. After she walked out, I fired my lazer at the back of her skull. This was my third mistake, because I was going for cancer in the brain at that point. But, you can't have cancer in something you don't have.
To make this whole thing better, the dude in line after her brings up a tiller and sets it on my counter. Tillers are those tools for turning dirt that have the spikes on the end of them. (For those that don't know). He smiles and says "I bet this thing can do more damage than your lazer."
HA!
I laugh a bit before I look at the woman walking to her car. You are more than welcome to try sir. You are more than welcome to try.
-Deimos
You see, in general, when people buy plants, flowers, or vegetables, they buy them en masse. And I mean this wholeheartedly. They will come up with flatbeds full of plantlife. Now, my ergonomic gamer loving ass with allergies shouldn't be outside that long to begin with. But when you add the fact that there is almost a never-ending conga line going through that checkout, the day can seem to drag on.
Now, the customers out there are really broken into two types. There are the really cool ones who understand that the people in front and behind them each have 50 items to ring up, and they also have a cartload of stuff as well. They are totally cool with waiting because human beings are only capable of moving so fast. (This includes other customers digging for exact change).
The other type is the one I will have to write about. These are the hippies whose time is far too valuable and have the patience of a 2 year old wanting candy. They tend to be rude, snotty, and overall unpleasant in their quest for a completely organic life. Today's episode is one of these "people."
A couple comes up, and begins putting their stuff on my register space before I am done with the customer ahead of them. This is always a bad omen, and often times, I wonder if people really know how rude they are being. So after the other customer has to push her stuff out of the way to swipe his credit card, I could see the vein in her forehead throbbing already that someone has dared challenge her universe.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
Now, note, it is daylight out while this is happening. It is also quite hot. I will explain later why this is important. So the woman shoves her stuff into the center of the counter, and I begin scanning. I scan the five plants or so she has on there before I raise my little lazer gun and look down at her flatbed where she has more garden style tools awaiting purchase.
Now, my little lazer gun is cordless, so when I need to do these types of things, like scanning items near the ground, it is easier for me to do so. But, when I bring my gun up to rest on my shoulder, the woman begins screaming at me.
"Watch what you are doing, you could have blinded me!"
Now, at this point, I am thinking she has to be talking to someone else. Perhaps another customer almost poked her in the eye with a stick or something. However, when I turn around, there she is, red faced with that stupid vein in her forehead again, and she is staring at me. Someone as old as this lady should not be able to get her face that red, unless she got trapped in a tanning booth. It just isn't healthy. I look around to make sure I am understanding that she is in fact, yelling at me.
I respond very politely (this was a mistake) and ask her what she is talking about. Her response? I could have blinded her with the lazer.
Wow.
OK, first of all, this lazer can barely scan the damn barcodes you people bring up here. The barcodes are covered with dirt, grime, and God knows what else. These little lazers are thin beams that flicker in and out, and barely work. Secondly, they only work when I am pulling the trigger. They aren't really substantial lazers that stay on afterwards. Because of these two things, this lazer is clearly NOT strong enough to do any real damage to your eyes unless you stared at it for a good week or so. Thirdly...it's daytime! (Told you this would come back). How the fuck can you even see the damned lazer is beyond me, because I focus at where it is on the barcode, and I can't see it most of the time. You mean to tell me you could even though you don't know where its specifically pointed at? No. I doubt it.
I try to politely explain that she was not in danger of this lazer. (Again, a mistake. I should have learned at this point). She then proceeds to go off on me. I really don't give a rat's ass. I am ready for my lunch break. The guy with her (assumingly her husband) is rolling his eyes in great pain, as if wishing this bitch would just shut her piehole and pay for her damn flora.
After I ring up the items, and suppress my laughing, I give them the total. The guy swipes his gift card he had, and it takes care of most of the bill. He then pulls out his credit card, and after he swipes it, Lazer Bitch waves a coupon in my face, saying I need to take 10 dollars off the card.
Score.
You see, I can't scan the coupon now that the gift card has been swiped. The computer won't let me back out. Haha Beeotch. She then starts throwing a temper tantrum, and the dude with her just shakes his head and swipes his card. I roll my eyes at him. We both smile. I feel his pain. I actually almost pity him. I mean, after this, I don't have to put up with her shit. He does. Thats what you get for marrying a succubus.
Of course, I always get the last laugh on customers like these if I can. After she walked out, I fired my lazer at the back of her skull. This was my third mistake, because I was going for cancer in the brain at that point. But, you can't have cancer in something you don't have.
To make this whole thing better, the dude in line after her brings up a tiller and sets it on my counter. Tillers are those tools for turning dirt that have the spikes on the end of them. (For those that don't know). He smiles and says "I bet this thing can do more damage than your lazer."
HA!
I laugh a bit before I look at the woman walking to her car. You are more than welcome to try sir. You are more than welcome to try.
-Deimos
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
TPS Report 05/16/2009
This week's TPS Report comes to us from, once again, the Self Checkout line, where I continue to catalog different species of idiot. Now, I am also coming to understand that while my list is far from complete, there are also several types of people who could classify as more than one species. Observe:
Our Moron d'Jour comes up to the line. She has a cart full of stuff. (Turns out to be 14 items). She is also on a cell phone, and has two kids, one is about 10, the other 7. Not a good start. Not only is she not paying attention to what she is doing, but she isn't paying attention to her kids either, and she is in a hardware store. Reminds me of those Farside comics you used to see where there were two buildings next to each other, and the caption simply read: "Trouble Brewing." Normally, these two buildings would be like, an alligator farm, and a nursery. This is kind of how I felt about this woman with her kids. It just spelled trouble.
Things started out well enough, she bagged about 3 items or so with no trouble or cause for concern, but then things went down hill fast. You see, she started this spiral by removing the bag from the scale, and dropping it into her cart. Ding ding ding. Right light of stupidity flashes, and the dance has begun. Speaking in very heavy Ignorant, she asks why she can't continue to scan items. After quite calmly stating to her that the thing she is standing next to is indeed a scale, she says, "Oh, so I gotsa keep dat on der?"
Yep. You gotsa.
So, she places, and by places, I mean throws, the bag back on the scale, opens up a new bag and tries to scan the item. It takes a second for the scale to recover from the sheer velocity of the throw, but it manages. 3 items later...you guessed it, the red light goes off again as she removes the 2nd bag and puts it in her cart.
Now, at this point, its pretty obvious she has the IQ of the broomhandle she just scanned, since she just made the same basic mistake 20 seconds prior. After once again explaining the obvious, she hands the bag to her 10 year old son, and tells him to hold it on the scale. Now, at first glance, this seems kind of smart, since the broom handle is sticking way out of the bag. However, it is fundamentally flawed.
You see, the kid holds the broom handle just like he was asked, but in doing so, he is applying pressure, and therefore, weight, to the already overtaxed scale. Red Light of Stupidity flashes once more. I don't even let them see it, I just promptly hit the button. The Moron d'Jour scans a gallon of paint. (Who would ever trust this woman with paint is beyond me.) She then proceeds to set it on the floor.
Wow. Just wow. This lady is a walking red light special, and not of the provocative kind either. The poor 7 year old girl pushing the cart is about bored to tears. The woman, realizing the light was red, asks me if she has to put that [paint] on the scale too.
Now, seriously people. How long do I have to hold my tongue on this? This really isn't fair. I nod silently, fully realizing that if I open my mouth, I will probably end up getting fired. So next up, she throws something small into one of the bags. Again, I am emphasizing throwing. But, the item is so small, the scale isn't picking up the weight. The monitor asks if she would like to skip the bagging process on this piece. She, of course, is on the phone.
So, the kid decides to take it into his own hands, and lifts the broom off the scale and tries to push the button on the screen with the end of the broom handle. Now, first of all, why would you jab at a piece of electronics with a broom handle? Secondly, in doing this, he has tripped the scale once again. Red lights for everyone! Really stupid there kiddo. Its pretty obvious whose ass you got shot out of.
The next 6 or 7 items go about like this, occasionally, it takes two mercy buttons to get them through an item. When everything is said and done, they managed to scan all 14 items, and I only had to push the Moron button a whopping 17 times. 17! Thats more than 1 per item! I didn't think that was possible! So, I have dubbed her Queen of the Red Light Special. (QRLS)
Ugh. I totally have discovered a new species, or at least a subspecies...
The Quarterback: This customer likes to throw things on the scale. They may also have other species types, such as Waitless or Weightless, but the emphasis is on trying to cause as much damage as possible to the equipment, usually by throwing heavy or sharp objects onto the scale.
And, because I am in the mood, I shall give you another subspecies:
Dis "Count:" An offshoot of the Faux Independent, the Count likes to have coupons that have to be redeemed up at the register. Or, even worse, they purchase items at are on sale, and must manually be altered by the supervising person, (Me) hence defeating the point of self checkout.
-Deimos
Our Moron d'Jour comes up to the line. She has a cart full of stuff. (Turns out to be 14 items). She is also on a cell phone, and has two kids, one is about 10, the other 7. Not a good start. Not only is she not paying attention to what she is doing, but she isn't paying attention to her kids either, and she is in a hardware store. Reminds me of those Farside comics you used to see where there were two buildings next to each other, and the caption simply read: "Trouble Brewing." Normally, these two buildings would be like, an alligator farm, and a nursery. This is kind of how I felt about this woman with her kids. It just spelled trouble.
Things started out well enough, she bagged about 3 items or so with no trouble or cause for concern, but then things went down hill fast. You see, she started this spiral by removing the bag from the scale, and dropping it into her cart. Ding ding ding. Right light of stupidity flashes, and the dance has begun. Speaking in very heavy Ignorant, she asks why she can't continue to scan items. After quite calmly stating to her that the thing she is standing next to is indeed a scale, she says, "Oh, so I gotsa keep dat on der?"
Yep. You gotsa.
So, she places, and by places, I mean throws, the bag back on the scale, opens up a new bag and tries to scan the item. It takes a second for the scale to recover from the sheer velocity of the throw, but it manages. 3 items later...you guessed it, the red light goes off again as she removes the 2nd bag and puts it in her cart.
Now, at this point, its pretty obvious she has the IQ of the broomhandle she just scanned, since she just made the same basic mistake 20 seconds prior. After once again explaining the obvious, she hands the bag to her 10 year old son, and tells him to hold it on the scale. Now, at first glance, this seems kind of smart, since the broom handle is sticking way out of the bag. However, it is fundamentally flawed.
You see, the kid holds the broom handle just like he was asked, but in doing so, he is applying pressure, and therefore, weight, to the already overtaxed scale. Red Light of Stupidity flashes once more. I don't even let them see it, I just promptly hit the button. The Moron d'Jour scans a gallon of paint. (Who would ever trust this woman with paint is beyond me.) She then proceeds to set it on the floor.
Wow. Just wow. This lady is a walking red light special, and not of the provocative kind either. The poor 7 year old girl pushing the cart is about bored to tears. The woman, realizing the light was red, asks me if she has to put that [paint] on the scale too.
Now, seriously people. How long do I have to hold my tongue on this? This really isn't fair. I nod silently, fully realizing that if I open my mouth, I will probably end up getting fired. So next up, she throws something small into one of the bags. Again, I am emphasizing throwing. But, the item is so small, the scale isn't picking up the weight. The monitor asks if she would like to skip the bagging process on this piece. She, of course, is on the phone.
So, the kid decides to take it into his own hands, and lifts the broom off the scale and tries to push the button on the screen with the end of the broom handle. Now, first of all, why would you jab at a piece of electronics with a broom handle? Secondly, in doing this, he has tripped the scale once again. Red lights for everyone! Really stupid there kiddo. Its pretty obvious whose ass you got shot out of.
The next 6 or 7 items go about like this, occasionally, it takes two mercy buttons to get them through an item. When everything is said and done, they managed to scan all 14 items, and I only had to push the Moron button a whopping 17 times. 17! Thats more than 1 per item! I didn't think that was possible! So, I have dubbed her Queen of the Red Light Special. (QRLS)
Ugh. I totally have discovered a new species, or at least a subspecies...
The Quarterback: This customer likes to throw things on the scale. They may also have other species types, such as Waitless or Weightless, but the emphasis is on trying to cause as much damage as possible to the equipment, usually by throwing heavy or sharp objects onto the scale.
And, because I am in the mood, I shall give you another subspecies:
Dis "Count:" An offshoot of the Faux Independent, the Count likes to have coupons that have to be redeemed up at the register. Or, even worse, they purchase items at are on sale, and must manually be altered by the supervising person, (Me) hence defeating the point of self checkout.
-Deimos
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Webster is a n00b...
So, apparently, the people who speak English in this world are getting pretty desperate. You see, the English language is approaching a huge milestone. It is "estimated" by "experts" that this milestone will happen around June 10th, of 2009. This is just a few weeks away. The milestone I am referring to of course is the 1 millionth word in the English Language. That's 1,000,000 who don't have "millionith" in your vocabulary yet. That is a lot of zeroes. According to http://tech.uk.msn.com/news/article.aspx?cp-documentid=16646244 the link anyways, we are on the verge of greatness.
I, of course, don't believe in this greatness. Why? Because the English language is trying too hard to become hip. It's not hip. It's not cutting edge. It's old and has flaws, and quite honestly, I like it that way. English is a germanic language, so it, for all intents and purposes, should be difficult. I guess why I am bothered with this is the fact that there are words in there like "ain't" and "d'oh!" Words that are slang or even just a sound effect made by a fictitious character. Their are laxing their standards to achieve this goal. So naturally, it is only befitting that the 1,000,000th word be...noob.
Now, for those of you who aren't in the know, let me explain noob. Noob is a word that derives from newbie, or new person. Basically, its a sort of "rookie" if you will, and its popular usage comes not from corporate America or the government, but from gamers. Noob, in general can be used in 3 contexts as a gamer, and more often than not, an online gamer.
The first is when someone says they are genuinely new, and hence, a noob. They need help understanding the controls or finding places on a map. These noobs tend to be kind of pleasant, which, in online gaming, can be rare. It also means they generally are not referred to as noobs, but just as new. The reasoning for this is because noob generally is more derogatory of a word when used in gaming context.
The second use is in such a context. A person messes up, or does something stupid, or may even try to kill your character, but fail. This person can be labeled a noob. An example would be: You NOOB, you couldn't kill me while I was fighting something else! LMAO!!!1"
The third usage is in jest, where someone who you would consider your online friend makes an honest mistake or forgets where something is at, and your entire group mocks him and calls him a noob. He, in return, laughs, because it is only appropriate since he was an idiot.
Yes folks, this is our potential 1,000,000th word. You would think, with all the other words out there, one of them would be able to derive another word that has a little more oomph in it than noob. Apparently, Webster is a noob, since they can't think of anything else.
-Deimos
I, of course, don't believe in this greatness. Why? Because the English language is trying too hard to become hip. It's not hip. It's not cutting edge. It's old and has flaws, and quite honestly, I like it that way. English is a germanic language, so it, for all intents and purposes, should be difficult. I guess why I am bothered with this is the fact that there are words in there like "ain't" and "d'oh!" Words that are slang or even just a sound effect made by a fictitious character. Their are laxing their standards to achieve this goal. So naturally, it is only befitting that the 1,000,000th word be...noob.
Now, for those of you who aren't in the know, let me explain noob. Noob is a word that derives from newbie, or new person. Basically, its a sort of "rookie" if you will, and its popular usage comes not from corporate America or the government, but from gamers. Noob, in general can be used in 3 contexts as a gamer, and more often than not, an online gamer.
The first is when someone says they are genuinely new, and hence, a noob. They need help understanding the controls or finding places on a map. These noobs tend to be kind of pleasant, which, in online gaming, can be rare. It also means they generally are not referred to as noobs, but just as new. The reasoning for this is because noob generally is more derogatory of a word when used in gaming context.
The second use is in such a context. A person messes up, or does something stupid, or may even try to kill your character, but fail. This person can be labeled a noob. An example would be: You NOOB, you couldn't kill me while I was fighting something else! LMAO!!!1"
The third usage is in jest, where someone who you would consider your online friend makes an honest mistake or forgets where something is at, and your entire group mocks him and calls him a noob. He, in return, laughs, because it is only appropriate since he was an idiot.
Yes folks, this is our potential 1,000,000th word. You would think, with all the other words out there, one of them would be able to derive another word that has a little more oomph in it than noob. Apparently, Webster is a noob, since they can't think of anything else.
-Deimos
Friday, May 8, 2009
TPS Report 05/07/2009
Apparently, some people partied way too hard this Cinco de Mayo, because its the only logical conclusion I could have made about my latest victim in my fight against the masses of stupid people. Of all the ones in recent tales, this is probably the worst.
One of my 12 bosses that has half a brain sent me down to work the Lumber cash register tonight to allow a fellow co-worker of mine a chance to take a break. I am totally down for this, because not only is Lumber overall slower paced then the front registers, but the customers, for the most part, tend to be pretty level headed, and kinda cool. They understand that sometimes, things happen and you got to look an item up or whatever. Like I said, reasonable people.
Of course, there are exceptions to every rule and/or stereotype. Tonight, I got to meet one of those exceptions. So, during the twenty minutes or so I am down at the Lumber register, I had all of about nine customers...and they all came at once. I was at register 2. Register 2 and 3 sit next to each other, sharing a spot for employees to stand. Basically, they are back to back, with Register 2 facing one way, and Register 3 another. So I am open on 2, because it is by the larger set of doors, making it easier for people with long pieces of lumber to exit. (Aren't I nice?) About two people through my conga line, and an old lady comes up to the register 3 and sets some flowers down on the register counter. She says nothing.
Now, at this point, I am not too concerned with her. After all, I have a horde of customers buying my wood. (Keep your crotch jokes to yourself) An old lady with flowers looking around like she is waiting on someone or something doesn't bother me too much. It would have continued to have been a non-issue as well, until the Witch of Register 3 opened her mouth.
WR3 waits until I am halfway through ringing up a customer before she opts to interrupt me. She doesn't ask questions, she doesn't even excuse herself from interrupting me. She demands to know why she has been skipped in line, and why I am not ringing up her flowers. I take a quick glance at my current customer, excuse myself from our conversation, and turn 180 degrees to face WR3. I smile as politely as I can before saying, "Sorry Ma'am, but I didn't realize you were ready to check out. However, that register is closed, and I am on the only open register at the moment, I am afraid you will have to get in line." She crinkles her nose at me a little bit in response.
Yes dipshit, you see that huge fucking box above your head with the number "3" on it? You see how it is lacking a light source? You may also notice, if you get your head out of your ass, that the light with the number "2" on it is illuminated, hence indicating that the register is in fact open. Of course, you probably were too busy paying attention to everyone else who already figured out what that meant, hence the line of very patient customers who now have to watch me dealing with you.
On a side note, why the hell would you have flowers down in Lumber anyways? The Lawn and Garden section of the store is on the complete opposite end, and they have registers down there. You had to pass up 11 possible registers and the self checkout to get down here with those flowers, and then you proceeded to go into the wrong line! Who the hell let you out of your cage? Seriously! They let you drive? I mean...really...they do?!
Eventually, WR3 gets to the head of the line, which at this point, is just her and one other person. She says she is very disappointed in the lack of customer service, and that I should be ashamed of myself, along with dropping a couple of inappropriate words. I calmly set down my scanner and take a side step over to Register 3. I flip on my light, and ask the gentleman behind her to step over so I can ring him out. She is flabbergasted.
I shoot her a quick glare before nailing my point home. "It is my job to assist you in the nicest way possible. It doesn't mean I am here to take your abuse. When you are ready to engage me in a conversation like an adult, I will assist you." Of course, I don't even bother looking at her at this point. I just go about being nice and ringing the other guy out. By the time we are done, she has left. The flowers are still on the counter.
The lesson learned here folks is that I don't take crap from my kid, let alone a stranger with an attitude. I hope she rats on me to one of my 12 bosses. That way, I can relive the tale. Once I tell them its all on camera, and they can see and hear what I did for themselves, and I will laugh. This is probably the first person that I have actually felt a loathing for. Not because she was an idiot, but because she disrespected me after being an idiot on multiple levels, which is much harder to do than it looks.
-Deimos
One of my 12 bosses that has half a brain sent me down to work the Lumber cash register tonight to allow a fellow co-worker of mine a chance to take a break. I am totally down for this, because not only is Lumber overall slower paced then the front registers, but the customers, for the most part, tend to be pretty level headed, and kinda cool. They understand that sometimes, things happen and you got to look an item up or whatever. Like I said, reasonable people.
Of course, there are exceptions to every rule and/or stereotype. Tonight, I got to meet one of those exceptions. So, during the twenty minutes or so I am down at the Lumber register, I had all of about nine customers...and they all came at once. I was at register 2. Register 2 and 3 sit next to each other, sharing a spot for employees to stand. Basically, they are back to back, with Register 2 facing one way, and Register 3 another. So I am open on 2, because it is by the larger set of doors, making it easier for people with long pieces of lumber to exit. (Aren't I nice?) About two people through my conga line, and an old lady comes up to the register 3 and sets some flowers down on the register counter. She says nothing.
Now, at this point, I am not too concerned with her. After all, I have a horde of customers buying my wood. (Keep your crotch jokes to yourself) An old lady with flowers looking around like she is waiting on someone or something doesn't bother me too much. It would have continued to have been a non-issue as well, until the Witch of Register 3 opened her mouth.
WR3 waits until I am halfway through ringing up a customer before she opts to interrupt me. She doesn't ask questions, she doesn't even excuse herself from interrupting me. She demands to know why she has been skipped in line, and why I am not ringing up her flowers. I take a quick glance at my current customer, excuse myself from our conversation, and turn 180 degrees to face WR3. I smile as politely as I can before saying, "Sorry Ma'am, but I didn't realize you were ready to check out. However, that register is closed, and I am on the only open register at the moment, I am afraid you will have to get in line." She crinkles her nose at me a little bit in response.
Yes dipshit, you see that huge fucking box above your head with the number "3" on it? You see how it is lacking a light source? You may also notice, if you get your head out of your ass, that the light with the number "2" on it is illuminated, hence indicating that the register is in fact open. Of course, you probably were too busy paying attention to everyone else who already figured out what that meant, hence the line of very patient customers who now have to watch me dealing with you.
On a side note, why the hell would you have flowers down in Lumber anyways? The Lawn and Garden section of the store is on the complete opposite end, and they have registers down there. You had to pass up 11 possible registers and the self checkout to get down here with those flowers, and then you proceeded to go into the wrong line! Who the hell let you out of your cage? Seriously! They let you drive? I mean...really...they do?!
Eventually, WR3 gets to the head of the line, which at this point, is just her and one other person. She says she is very disappointed in the lack of customer service, and that I should be ashamed of myself, along with dropping a couple of inappropriate words. I calmly set down my scanner and take a side step over to Register 3. I flip on my light, and ask the gentleman behind her to step over so I can ring him out. She is flabbergasted.
I shoot her a quick glare before nailing my point home. "It is my job to assist you in the nicest way possible. It doesn't mean I am here to take your abuse. When you are ready to engage me in a conversation like an adult, I will assist you." Of course, I don't even bother looking at her at this point. I just go about being nice and ringing the other guy out. By the time we are done, she has left. The flowers are still on the counter.
The lesson learned here folks is that I don't take crap from my kid, let alone a stranger with an attitude. I hope she rats on me to one of my 12 bosses. That way, I can relive the tale. Once I tell them its all on camera, and they can see and hear what I did for themselves, and I will laugh. This is probably the first person that I have actually felt a loathing for. Not because she was an idiot, but because she disrespected me after being an idiot on multiple levels, which is much harder to do than it looks.
-Deimos
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
For the Love of Chrysler!
We got a new car recently. Well, new to us. The 2006 Chrysler Sebring. Nice car. The Mrs. drives it. In any event, on my days off, I ran around town, getting the thing fixed up. New oil, tires, wheel, and of course, the title.
Yet, when we went to get the spare key made, we were informed that the dealership had to make the key, since they put some stupid microchip in the head of it. Basically, only Chrysler can copy this key, since they have to install the chip, and without the chip, the car thinks its being stolen, and promptly locks up.
Now, seriously people, it has come to this? You know what kind of inconvenience this is? Not only does it cost $62.00 or so to get this stupid key made, but if someone is going to steal the car, it is not always through a hotwiring. Sometimes, they do have the key, (that they also stole), but they have it nonetheless. So, instead of dropping 2 bucks on a spare key, I am dropping an extra 60 to try and circumvent only one of the many myriad ways to steal a car. Not what I would consider a good investment. No wonder the car industries are in trouble.
Alas, there I am at the Chrysler dealership. I explain this situation, and after telling me the cost, they have the gall to ask if I want the remote control button to open the car from afar. Its an extra 40-50 bucks or so. No thanks, I don't have lube, and this is already going to hurt, so just get it over with.
Here is where things get very stupid. They lead me to a very fancy lounge waiting area while they are busy making the small item they are overcharging me for. They have a copious selection of magazines to read, plush leather couches, a snack bar, TV, and fresh brewed coffee. The place feels like a Holiday Inn without room service or an ice bucket. The air conditioning is even on.
I figure I will at least try and get my money's worth by shoving as many pastries in my mouth and downing as much coffee as I could. I would look like a chipmunk, but dammit, for 62 bucks and some change, I don't give a rat's ass. I am entitled now dammit. So as I am sitting there drinking my coffee (which was suprisingly good) and eating a pastry, I was flipping through ESPN magazine when suddenly, I hear Barak Obama's voice on the TV (this is, of course, not surprising).
However, it was what our President had to say that damn near made me throw up 4 pastries and 2 cups of coffee. He was announcing (and mind you, this is a live broadcast) that Chrysler was going to declare Chapter 11 Bankruptcy in the coming hours today.
O' Really?
I calmly set my magazine and coffee down on the nice cedar end table and calmly walk over to the door leading back to the garage. I poke my head out and find the guy who helped me earlier. I shout that I really need that key in a hurry. When he asked why I was suddenly in such a hurry, I couldn't help but break the news to him.
"You guys just declared bankruptcy. It was on the news."
The guy makes a face that can best be described as surprised, but not stunned, and then smiles at me. "Yea...well...um...let me go check on that for you."
I smile and shut the door. Looks like I better shove a pastry in my pocket for the road and get out of Dodge...
-Deimos
Yet, when we went to get the spare key made, we were informed that the dealership had to make the key, since they put some stupid microchip in the head of it. Basically, only Chrysler can copy this key, since they have to install the chip, and without the chip, the car thinks its being stolen, and promptly locks up.
Now, seriously people, it has come to this? You know what kind of inconvenience this is? Not only does it cost $62.00 or so to get this stupid key made, but if someone is going to steal the car, it is not always through a hotwiring. Sometimes, they do have the key, (that they also stole), but they have it nonetheless. So, instead of dropping 2 bucks on a spare key, I am dropping an extra 60 to try and circumvent only one of the many myriad ways to steal a car. Not what I would consider a good investment. No wonder the car industries are in trouble.
Alas, there I am at the Chrysler dealership. I explain this situation, and after telling me the cost, they have the gall to ask if I want the remote control button to open the car from afar. Its an extra 40-50 bucks or so. No thanks, I don't have lube, and this is already going to hurt, so just get it over with.
Here is where things get very stupid. They lead me to a very fancy lounge waiting area while they are busy making the small item they are overcharging me for. They have a copious selection of magazines to read, plush leather couches, a snack bar, TV, and fresh brewed coffee. The place feels like a Holiday Inn without room service or an ice bucket. The air conditioning is even on.
I figure I will at least try and get my money's worth by shoving as many pastries in my mouth and downing as much coffee as I could. I would look like a chipmunk, but dammit, for 62 bucks and some change, I don't give a rat's ass. I am entitled now dammit. So as I am sitting there drinking my coffee (which was suprisingly good) and eating a pastry, I was flipping through ESPN magazine when suddenly, I hear Barak Obama's voice on the TV (this is, of course, not surprising).
However, it was what our President had to say that damn near made me throw up 4 pastries and 2 cups of coffee. He was announcing (and mind you, this is a live broadcast) that Chrysler was going to declare Chapter 11 Bankruptcy in the coming hours today.
O' Really?
I calmly set my magazine and coffee down on the nice cedar end table and calmly walk over to the door leading back to the garage. I poke my head out and find the guy who helped me earlier. I shout that I really need that key in a hurry. When he asked why I was suddenly in such a hurry, I couldn't help but break the news to him.
"You guys just declared bankruptcy. It was on the news."
The guy makes a face that can best be described as surprised, but not stunned, and then smiles at me. "Yea...well...um...let me go check on that for you."
I smile and shut the door. Looks like I better shove a pastry in my pocket for the road and get out of Dodge...
-Deimos
Monday, May 4, 2009
TPS Report 05/01/2009
Even the nicest and seemingly pleasant people can still be put into the TPS Report when they decide that they really are idiots. For some reason unfathomable to a person with common sense, I was put on the Customer Service Desk this past weekend. (Really? I mean, who is in charge around here? Don't they know better?)
After a few minutes of sheer boredeom, a woman comes up to the line to pay for her items. She seems nice enough, and small talk about common things begins to happen, such as the weather, and "How's business going?"
To be honest, this is where I should have seen the red flag. Perhaps I was just trying to hard. What do you care about how our business is doing? Its doing well enough for you to be here, isn't it? Again, she was probably just trying to be nice, but at this rate, and the way she was trying to seem genuinely interested, she might as well asked if I wear boxers or briefs.
Finally, her total bill rings up. Her total came up to just over fifty bucks. She pulls out her credit card and swipes it. We go through the motions of ringing up her sale when a "DECLINED" comes up on my register. Now, at this point, remember that I am still trying to be nice. After all, I am on "Customer Service," I tell her that the card was declined. However, I immediately ask if she wants to try it again.
This would seem counter-intuitive, since it just declined it, but sometimes, it declines it because it doesn't read it right. Our card swipers, on a scale of 1-10, rate right around a "Kick to the Nuts." So, explaining this in a "PC" way, I ask if she would like to try again. She nods, saying that she just used it yesterday.
Once again, we go through the motions. Once again, it declines it. I ask her if she would like me to try and swipe the card on my register. (Note: This is rather a poor business practice by the company. Why don't we just swipe it ourselves to start? It would save so much time.) She says, yes, although she is a bit irate at this point.
So I swipe her card. And, you guessed it...same result. Declined. Now, here is where things get ugly. Three strikes and she is out. I tell her the card is declined, and asks if she would like to use a different method of payment. Perhaps blood, or common decency? Neither. Instead, she starts throwing a complete temper tantrum.
Things such as, "I can't believe this bullshit, and what the fuck do you mean its declined?!" Her face gets really red and she starts breathing heavy as she explains, once again, she just used the card yesterday. Meanwhile, a line is forming behind her, and she is really starting to make a scene. One of my 12 Supervisors sees what is happening and begins inching towards my position. If I am going to make her look like an idiot, I have to do it quickly.
I look down at the card, pretending to be perplexed, when the answer hits me square in the face. I grin a little and offer her her card back. I explain to her that it is expired, and she glares at me. My shoulders droop a little and the conversation ensues thusly:
Me: Maam, your card is expired.
Moron: No...it...isn't. I just...used it...
Me: ...yesterday. I know. But today is May 1st.
This throws her off guard a bit. She crinkles her red nose and continues to stare at me.
Me: Maam, its May 1st.
Moron: You just said that...
Me: Yes. Your card expired on April 30th. See?
I point to the card, where the expiration clearly reads 04/09.
Me: Would you like to use a different form of payment today?
At this point, I am trying to sound like an automated machine, asking her the same question I have been asking her for a couple minutes now.
The cheeks flush as she turns and walks out of the store without a sound. Damn you! Now we have to take all this crap and put it back on the shelves. One of the 12 looks at me and says, "What was all that about?"
I shoot her a quick glance. "Just another happy customer," I mumble. That was all the response she was getting from me. Took her how the fuck long to move 8 feet to my position? If you are going to be my supervisor, those are the types of customers you are supposed to handle when her face gets all red. Letting me shoot that woman down was cruel and unusual punishment. You're fired.
* * *
As promised, I have another species to add to the "Self Checkout Customer."
The "Voter for Change": Generally, this species tends to be much older, like, blue hair older, and carries large purses that you could stuff bodies into. After buying a bottle of Windex and a sponge, they insist on paying with exact change. To make matters worse, its normally in pennies. One cent at a time, they pay their bill while the line forms behind them. Then, when they are about 14 cents away, the set their purse down...you guessed it...on the scale, in order to fish for the last 14 cents. The hilarity of the red light ensues, and, in most cases, they are oblivious to it, since they are shoulder deep in their giant body bags looking for coins.
-Deimos
After a few minutes of sheer boredeom, a woman comes up to the line to pay for her items. She seems nice enough, and small talk about common things begins to happen, such as the weather, and "How's business going?"
To be honest, this is where I should have seen the red flag. Perhaps I was just trying to hard. What do you care about how our business is doing? Its doing well enough for you to be here, isn't it? Again, she was probably just trying to be nice, but at this rate, and the way she was trying to seem genuinely interested, she might as well asked if I wear boxers or briefs.
Finally, her total bill rings up. Her total came up to just over fifty bucks. She pulls out her credit card and swipes it. We go through the motions of ringing up her sale when a "DECLINED" comes up on my register. Now, at this point, remember that I am still trying to be nice. After all, I am on "Customer Service," I tell her that the card was declined. However, I immediately ask if she wants to try it again.
This would seem counter-intuitive, since it just declined it, but sometimes, it declines it because it doesn't read it right. Our card swipers, on a scale of 1-10, rate right around a "Kick to the Nuts." So, explaining this in a "PC" way, I ask if she would like to try again. She nods, saying that she just used it yesterday.
Once again, we go through the motions. Once again, it declines it. I ask her if she would like me to try and swipe the card on my register. (Note: This is rather a poor business practice by the company. Why don't we just swipe it ourselves to start? It would save so much time.) She says, yes, although she is a bit irate at this point.
So I swipe her card. And, you guessed it...same result. Declined. Now, here is where things get ugly. Three strikes and she is out. I tell her the card is declined, and asks if she would like to use a different method of payment. Perhaps blood, or common decency? Neither. Instead, she starts throwing a complete temper tantrum.
Things such as, "I can't believe this bullshit, and what the fuck do you mean its declined?!" Her face gets really red and she starts breathing heavy as she explains, once again, she just used the card yesterday. Meanwhile, a line is forming behind her, and she is really starting to make a scene. One of my 12 Supervisors sees what is happening and begins inching towards my position. If I am going to make her look like an idiot, I have to do it quickly.
I look down at the card, pretending to be perplexed, when the answer hits me square in the face. I grin a little and offer her her card back. I explain to her that it is expired, and she glares at me. My shoulders droop a little and the conversation ensues thusly:
Me: Maam, your card is expired.
Moron:
Me: ...yesterday. I know. But today is May 1st.
This throws her off guard a bit. She crinkles her red nose and continues to stare at me.
Me: Maam, its May 1st.
Moron: You just said that...
Me: Yes. Your card expired on April 30th. See?
I point to the card, where the expiration clearly reads 04/09.
Me: Would you like to use a different form of payment today?
At this point, I am trying to sound like an automated machine, asking her the same question I have been asking her for a couple minutes now.
The cheeks flush as she turns and walks out of the store without a sound. Damn you! Now we have to take all this crap and put it back on the shelves. One of the 12 looks at me and says, "What was all that about?"
I shoot her a quick glance. "Just another happy customer," I mumble. That was all the response she was getting from me. Took her how the fuck long to move 8 feet to my position? If you are going to be my supervisor, those are the types of customers you are supposed to handle when her face gets all red. Letting me shoot that woman down was cruel and unusual punishment. You're fired.
* * *
As promised, I have another species to add to the "Self Checkout Customer."
The "Voter for Change": Generally, this species tends to be much older, like, blue hair older, and carries large purses that you could stuff bodies into. After buying a bottle of Windex and a sponge, they insist on paying with exact change. To make matters worse, its normally in pennies. One cent at a time, they pay their bill while the line forms behind them. Then, when they are about 14 cents away, the set their purse down...you guessed it...on the scale, in order to fish for the last 14 cents. The hilarity of the red light ensues, and, in most cases, they are oblivious to it, since they are shoulder deep in their giant body bags looking for coins.
-Deimos
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