I realize that as a blogger I took an oath to uphold truth, justice, and the American way. Yesterday, I failed to uphold my duties. I suppose I could justify myself in saying that being rude to cashiers is rapidly becoming the American way...especially around the holidays...but I still felt bad after I left. Before you start gathering the villagers and setting up a pitchfork and torch stand outside my castle...the moat would keep you out anyway...let me assure you that I was not the one who was dishing it out, so to speak.
Let me say that I have encountered my fair share of dimwitted and/or ill-prepared cashiers and clerks in my day. I have felt the frustration creeping into my being. I have dealt with the injustice of being told one thing and then experiencing another, more expensive alternative. I have been held at bay, even in an extreme hurry, by the customer ahead of me who seemed to be purposefully taking their time so as to make my day a little more stressful. And in each and every encounter there is one thing that remained the same. I cut the poor person some slack. I know you must be thinking, surely you must have lost it at least once and blown your top at just one person in your past. I can honestly say, "No, I have not...and stop calling me Shirley."
The reason that I have never gone into full blown meltdown mode is twofold. Primarily, that is the way I am wired. I try to see the other person's point of view. I assume that if there is something that should be happening to make me a happy customer the clerk is probably not given enough authority to make it happen. I have spoken to managers to explain situations and try to get resolutions. Whenever a clerk is in the wrong and a manager is able to rectify the situation I will usually say something like, "You may want to explain this policy to your employees since I think not all of them are on the same page. Teachable moment you know." I try to avoid conflict most of the time and I realize that making a scene is going to take a lot of energy and probably get me nowhere. I would really hate to look like a giant ass in the middle of, well, anyplace really, only to find out that I had made a false assumption and was in the wrong. And then have to walk out with my tail between my legs as customers everywhere point and laugh and tell their children not to be afraid of the rude man.
The second reason is that I have been that poor unfortunate clerk. I know how awful it is to have to tell someone that I have no idea what they are looking for and I would need to get someone else to do what should have been my job. I know the frustration of having to tell someone that I had no authority to deal with the problem they were having and then stare blankly as they retell their tale of woe only to hear again, "I'm sorry. I have no authority whatsoever. Would you like to speak to my manager?" And most importantly, I know the amount of sheer willpower required to not pound someone into a whimpering pile of bruises even though they desperately deserve it!
Allow me to explain that last bit. It was a few decades ago and I was the only person behind the counter at San Leandro Electric Supply in San Leandro California. The organizational chart had me as low man on the totem pole and that meant that I covered the counter while everyone else was out to lunch. All of the regular customers knew it and would only come in if they desperately needed something. I was the least experienced. I was the most overworked. I was lucky to know where a third of the things were let alone what they all did. Most days, thankfully, were extremely boring since it was common knowledge that you just don't come in at that time. One day, however, was an exception. I had every seat at the counter filled with people who needed their things in a hurry or their jobs would shut down. I was literally running from one customer to another and I was in the zone! "What do you need? 20 amp fuses? Got it! How about you? Starter? Size? Got it! And you? Safety switch? With lockout? Be right back!" I ran and got these three taken care of at one time. I heard, "Great job!" "Thanks!" and "You saved the job!" more times than I could count. As soon as three left, three more came in. It was my worst nightmare!
There was one person who was there the whole time watching this all and aware of the desperate situation these people had. It was fifty degrees in that warehouse and I was sweating from running for fifty full minutes when Ron came to the counter. (That is his real name and if I could remember it I would give you his real phone number so you could call him and tell him to stop being a jerk) Ron, after seeing all of this action and my attempts at saving the day for people whose jobs were in the balance, proceeded to tell me his random, refill his supply, order in as lazily a way as I have ever heard. The people who had come in after him audibly groaned as he counted off a large list of items that would never, ever, have been considered emergency items. I asked if I could take care of a few of the customers who needed things to continue working and he just looked at me blankly, as if to say, "It is my turn and they can wait." After getting his impossibly mundane list that would have easily been work enough for two people, I turned and started to run to get the first item. As I began to leave the counter he turned his back and said, "And Hurry!" Had I been David Banner I would have turned large and green and kicked him into the next county amid the cheers of the customers with real emergencies. What did happen is that I turned back and put both hands on the counter, I raised one knee as if I was getting ready to hop over a fence, and the customers who were next gave me looks that communicated, "It's ok. We know he's a jerk. It's not worth it kid. We can wait." I turned around, went back to filling his order, and was thankfully relieved by the regular crew coming back. Good thing too. I would look terrible with prison tattoos!
Suffice it to say, I understand what it is like to be overwhelmed and I don't want to be the person that other clerks blog about in the future. Having said that, I witnessed something unbelievable while out shopping yesterday. I realize that it was 'Black Friday' and I had no business being out and about, but my mother in law needed a new computer and this seemed like a good day to do it. We avoided all of the early morning pepper spraying, crowd shoving, line standing nonsense. We had a nice lunch together and went in the early evening to do a little shopping. We were hoping to catch the tail end of some sales on the craziest shopping day of the year. We found what we wanted at Fry's Electronics, made our way to the register, and waited in line. If you have never been to this store it is set up with about sixty cashiers. You wait in one line and a person at the front sends you to the next available worker. It actually works very well. By the time you get to the front there is a cashier with a green light and they tell you "number 30" and that is where you go.
Well we went to the cashier and did our two transactions while the green light stayed on. The 'sender' never sent anyone because she could see that it was a mistake and there were still people at the register. A manager type person came by and said, "You don't want to leave your light on. You need to turn it off until you finish." Obviously, this was early on in her training. It was early on in cashier # 31's training too. He accidentally turned on his light so the sender sent a lady on over. The trouble began when his customers came back to ask a question about their multiple receipts. As the poor cashier explained that each one was to be sent into a different place for different mail-in rebates we started to hear a banging. I honestly had no idea what it could be. It continued...LOUDLY! I tried to concentrate on my transaction while this annoying rhythmic sound kept going. I looked again, the woman who was sent, was waiting to be rung up but she was being the opposite of patient. The sound was her, pounding her 24 pack of AA batteries on the counter next to these poor people as they tried to find out how to receive hundreds of dollars in rebates. The pounding continued.
Sylvia looked over and caught this 'woman's eye. She was met with eye rolls and "what are you looking at?" stares. This customer was doing the best impersonation of a female dog (I think you know what I mean) that I have ever witnessed. Still I said nothing. Sylvia explained that she almost told her that she needed to stop instinctively as if she were telling one of our children to stop making an annoying sound, and would have if she had been pounding at us. Sylvia even tried smiling at her. There is a saying in her native German that goes, "You give an attacking dog two treats" The pounder wanted none of it. We looked at the people she was trying to intimidate and they seemed to be able to blissfully ignore the rudest behavior I had seen in a long time and kept on talking. Still she pounded. We finished our transaction as they were finishing up and we all walked out leaving the pounder to her miserable life.
I thought about saying something like, "It is really difficult to concentrate while someone is making rude noises like that and it will probably slow them down." But let's face it...she would have just attacked me for something that was none of my business. And you know what they say, "You can't teach an old female dog new tricks."
