liz_marcs (liz_marcs) wrote,
liz_marcs
liz_marcs

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Dis and Dat

First, happy b-day to nwhepcat.

May you have an awesome one and I hope you're out partying hardy somewhere.

I'm gonna make this short because me is tired after a shift at Borders.


Customers Suck

Most of them actually don't, but I had one sweartheart today...

Okay, part of my current foul-ish mood is that I was on registers for 5 hours today. Yuck. My least fave job outside of cafe. However, this is not the customers' fault and since it was on the slowish side, you can chit chat with people about their books and what they're reading and make recommendations about similar artists for CDs. It's a little soft-shoe sell and it's all good. Most customers don't mind the recs because they're book-music lovers themselves and they know they can read or listen before they buy.

Anyway, this couple comes to my register during a slow-ish time and I grab their book to scan it in. I noticed it was shapped like some sort of workbook thing-y but don't really look at the title. After all, 'tis the season when nervous parents are loading their poor kids up with SAT and ACT workbooks up the ying-yang, so I don't even register this book's title. I see a red cover and assume it's something from the Princeton genre of nerveous nelly test prep.

I'm trying to scan the barcode, but naturally, the barcode sticker is not exactly cooperating. After swiping it from a couple of different angles and still not being able to ring it in, the wife yells at me about "being more discrete" and that I "not show everyone the title to everyone in the store."

There's one person at the next register and they and the other cashier stops what they're doing and looks at her and the book. I quickly put it down and see the title:

The Sex Addict's Workbook.

Now, I personally don't think this is a big deal. We sell books that are a hell of a lot more embarassing than something like this (Helloooooo, hardcore porn in the erotica section!) and this looks like something a social worker or psychiatrist might buy.

Anyway, I quickly apologize and say that I didn't really look at the title. Since the wife is being tetchy and working herself up to a quality seethe, I forego trying to scan the book and instead punch the inventory number into the computer by hand beacuse, obviously, there's something wrong with the sticker. Plus, I'm afraid she'll blow a gasket if I try to swipe the book again.

Now, I've apologized and have started hiding the book title as requested, but this woman is still going off about my "insenstivity." She came very close to calling me stupid to boot.

So, I finish ringing, shove the book in the bag, take her money, make change, and hand over her purchase. She huffs out with her husband following her.

Keep in mind, had she not said anything, no one would've even noticed what she was buying. She literally brought attention on herself, her husband, and her purchase.

Not even 10 minutes go by and the store manager yanks me off the register to talk. I inwardly groan. We walk into his office and I say, "Let me guess." Then I relate the story.

Store manager nods with a sigh and tells me that the woman came back in the store, demanded to speak to him, dragged him out into the parking lot, and forced him to apologize to her husband because, aparantly "everyone in your store assumed the book was for my husband." Then she insisted that "something be done about that girl on the cash register."

I didn't get into trouble or anything, but for form's sake, I was told...something. He wasn't entirely sure what to tell me because this was a one-in-million situation. Just a sort of, "Be less chipy-chirpy if you happen to notice someone buying sex books." Or something like that.

In my brain, I'm going, "What? Like I ever suggest someone buys this month's selection Hustler whenever they buy a book from the erotica section? Do I look insane? Wait. Don't answer that."

Like I said, store manager was just a little bit at a loss since I didn't do anything wrong and handled the situation properly.

It was mostly, "go and sin no more...or something like that" and that was that.

So...whatever...



There's such a thing as over-preparation, you know...

So another customer was returning a test-prep book. This is SOP for the overachieving parents in the area of this Borders. They buy the test prep books for the SATs and ACTs (college/university entrance exams for you non-U.S. people) and when they don't need them any more, they get returned. As long as we can resell them, we take them back, no questions asked.

Anyhoo, this woman is complaining that her daughter didn't read it and didn't even bother to do any of the tests in this particular book. I point out that you can't actually study for the SATs and ACTs because they actually test on information you, as an entering freshman, should already know. In the course of conversation, I mention that I didn't study for either my SATs or ACTs and still managed to score over 1300 on the SAT without even breaking a sweat.

"Well, did you get into the college you wanted to?" the woman snots.

"Every college I applied for gave me early acceptance and a boatload of scholarships, so yeah, I got the college I wanted," I reply politely.

"What's your degree?" she snaps.

"Journalism."

Now she's getting irritated. "Are you even using it now?"

"Yup. Make a good living at it, too. Just doing more technical writing than newspapers, so yeah. Totally using it and making a living off it."

"So why are you working here?"

"It's Saturday. And I like books. I like the discount I get working here even more."

There was mumbling. There was huffing. Then there was, "Yeah, well, it's a lot more competitive now."

"But a 1300 or more will pretty much get you into any university," I point out.

Yup. Overachiever mom definitely looked sick as she left.

Yes, it was a totally bitchy thing to do, but I had been on the register almost 5 hours at that point and my chirpy-chirpy was up and gone. Plus, she was bitching out her daugher who wasn't even there to defend herself to a complete and total stranger.

Damn, being a high school senior is stressful enough. Your parent bad-mouthing you because you didn't crack one of the many test prep books he/she is making you read is just...hey, I felt bad for the kid.



And on a final note...stay away from fried food.

I crawl out of my shift and it's late. So I decide to get a quick meal at Kelly's Roast Beef, which is more known for its deep-fat-fried fish food. Since I hadn't had fried scallops (or deep-fat-fried anything) in a million years, I decide to go for the scallop plate.

*blurp*

Have you ever noticed that when you don't eat something bad for you in a long, long while and you decide to do something very, very stupid, like eating that something bad for you, you get really, really sick?

I mean really sick.

*blurp*

I had to drive home for 30 minutes after this icky repast. I can still taste...

*eeeeeewwwwwwww!*

I am seriously green around the gills right now.

If anyone needs me, I'll be on the couch and snuggled until a blanket until my digestive system stops rebelling.

I soooo have to go to the gym tomorrow to work off this 10-pound brick in my stomach.
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