Step the Bloody Fuck Over and Scratch Your Lotto Tickets Elsewhere!

I used to work overnights at a gas station/convenience store. We sold Lotto tickets. Both the type where you pick your numbers and check the results of a drawing and the scratchers. It was a pretty excellent job, really. I'd go in, do about two hours of cleaning, sit down and read for an hour, clean a few more things. Deal with a customer here and there. I had some regular customers who were pretty cool who'd pop in and keep me company for a bit. I also had some regular customers who I wanted to do medical experiments on. Okay, maybe not exactly medical experiments, but things like "Can I fit this bastard's head in a coffee pot?" And those bastards were the scratcher ticket assholes. And the people who drove up to the store stoned off their asses, but they're not the focus of this rant. Although The Human Torch is a great story. I'll tell it sometime.

Most people work for their money and I don't give a rat's ass how those people spend their money. You worked 45 hours this week, are tired and in pain, and want to spend a dollar in hopes of winning ten dollars? Go for it! The Mega Millions jackpot is really, really high this week? Buy a couple of tickets. You saved all year to go to Vegas and want to play Black Jack all weekend? Have fun! These are not the people I want to choke.

19 year old kid walks into the store. He just sold some pot outside, so he has a good chunk of cash in his pocket. He asks for a $1 scratch-off ticket. Stands at the counter, scratches it off, leaving a neat little pile of silver shavings on the counter, even though there is a trash can literally six inches away from him. The ticket is a $1 winner. So, kid turns the ticket back in, and asks for another ticket. Okay. Takes his second ticket. Scratches it off at the register, shavings pile, etc. This ticket is a loser. So he pulls another dollar out his pocket. Repeat. Loses. Pulls out another dollar. Scratch scratch. Messy messy. Lose. Another dollar. Repeat entire process until kid has spent $30, plus the tickets that actually won that were turned in. This is really annoying because it has eaten an hour of my time. There's no patience with this person. I can't continue to stock cigarettes. Because apparently I'm a fucking vending machine and am only there to hand some jackass an entire roll of lotto scratchers one ticket at a time. However the super assy behavior here is that THERE ARE OTHER FUCKING CUSTOMERS and this asshole refuses to get the fuck out of line so another customer can check out.

My boyfriend ran into an asshole like this at the store today, so it's not just the one particular drug-dealing kid at one-thirty in the morning like I used to deal with. These people are all over the place, being pains in everyone's ass. Some of them have actual jobs and aren't just drug dealers. Some are adults. Some come out during the fucking grocery rush between five and six p.m.

I do not care how many lottery tickets you purchase. If you want to buy fifty tickets, cool. Buy them all at once and get the fuck out of my way. If you buy one and are disappointed and want to try again, fine. Get back in the goddamn line for your separate transaction. But if you're prepared to spend $30 on tickets, spend $30, go to your car, leave a shavings mess in your own car, then come back inside and redeem the redeemable ones. You know what? I don't even fucking care if you scratch off two or three tickets at the counter PROVIDED I DON'T HAVE A LINE. If there's a line, buy what you're buying and come back if you want. I frequently had to tell the drug-dealing kid to move so I could ring up another customer. And he'd get so huffy and pissy! "I was here first." Yes. You were. For the last motherfucking twenty minutes. You're obviously not leaving any time soon, just fucking move so the line can keep moving. Otherwise another customer WILL run you down with a buggy and the cashier will not help you acquire medical assistance. We might just pour those scratcher shavings in your mouth while you're on the floor with wheel marks on your face.

Manufacturer Coupons Are Not Magic

Well, dear readers, I know what you've all been thinking: Hey, Roz hasn't had a solid, coherent rant in a while! Just vague anger and some nonsense about cats. Well, we'll fix that!

This jerk walks into my store tonight. I'll call her Bonzo. Bonzo has stocked up on coupons, $2.00 off Brand Dentifrice (yeah, that's right, folks! We're using pseudonyms for general products now!). Well, our store happens to have Brand Dentifrice on sale for $2.00 right now! So, holy crap! That means it's free! Wow! That's so awesome! Hey, if you use TWO $2.00 coupons on one tube of Dentifrice, that means we'll just give you $2.00 out of the register!

FUCK YOU!!!!

No. That's not what it means. It means that Dentifrice has given you a voucher to use for their product. You bring that voucher to the store. You buy your Dentifrice, surrendering that voucher. We then return that voucher to Dentifrice, and they reimburse the store. Dentifrice wants their name out there. They want you to try their product. They are not giving you two dollars. They are giving you a voucher for a particular product. It's not a fucking gift card to be used as you wish, it's intended to offset some or all of the price of one specific item. If that product happens to be on sale when you choose to use that voucher, well, cool beans. You got the product for free.

So, Bonzo walks up to the register with one tube of Dentifrice and two Dentifrice coupons. And pitches the fit to end all fits when my cashier won't open the register and give her two dollars.

*sigh*

Okay. ... Okay... I...just...can't even.

Who's familiar with WIC? WIC is a United States government program to assist low-income mothers in being able to provide essentials for their children. I have never worked for the government and have never received these benefits, so I have no idea how the decisions are made, but somehow it is decided which vouchers are beneficial for which families. And these vouchers are really specific, such as one dozen large Grade A eggs or one large box of Cheerios. Somebody cannot come into the store with a voucher for a gallon of milk and instead use it on a gallon of orange juice. They cannot use the value of a voucher for a dozen eggs off of a carton of 18 eggs. If the dozen eggs are on sale for $1.99 down from the regular price of $2.49, you don't get fifty cents back after using the voucher on the sale item eggs. The US government is giving you a dozen eggs, no tradesies, no backsies.

Manufacturer coupons generally aren't as specific as WIC vouchers, but if you boil away all of the excess, the concept is quite similar. Here is a voucher for an item. You cannot use two vouchers on the same item. Got it? One coupon for $2.00 off your $2.00 tube of Dentifrice.

Not clear enough? Grab a manufacturer coupon. Any manufacturer coupon. On the top, near the expiration date, you'll see one of two things. It will either say "No cash value" or "Cash value is 1/100th of one cent." In the first case, acknowledge that your promotional voucher to encourage you to take a certain item home with you has no cash value; it is a fucking voucher. In the second, you want some money back? Give me one hundred of those bitches, and I'll give you a fucking penny. If you have the time and resources to obtain and carry around one hundred copies of the same coupon, I'll give you a penny. Out of my pocket, if need be. You've used $5 worth of ink and $2 worth of a paper (yes, as a matter of fact, I am pulling numbers out of my ass). You've earned a penny. Good job.

If you succeeded in using two manufacturer coupons for one item, it is the equivalence of theft. "But Roz, isn't that a bit of a stretch?" No. No, it's not. So, let's say you go to a store with an old, poorly programmed, DOS-y piece of shit register that doesn't know how to accept coupons and you get a cashier who doesn't understand how they work. Cashier takes two $2.00 coupons for your one tube of Dentifrice and gives you two dollars out of the drawer. The store is not going to be reimbursed for that second coupon, because the item was not sold and shit isn't going to match up on the reconciliation. So congratulations. You've stolen two dollars from a store. Or same scenario, bad register, unaware employee, "here's two dollars back." This time, however, the manufacturer of Dentifrice just blindly reimburses the value of all coupons turned in. Well, then, you fucking tool, good job, you just stole $2.00 from the Dentifrice company. If you're going to steal, do retail workers everywhere a favor and just steal the damn product. It's less paperwork for all of us. And, extra bonus, if we catch you stealing physical merchandise, we can have you arrested. And that's a good source of entertainment.

Public Restroom Decorum

I can think of nothing that tempts to punch strangers in the face harder than encounters in a public restroom. I mean, goddamn, people are disgusting and obnoxious.

First off, I think it should be illegal to not wash your hands after using the restroom. I think this should be regarded an act of bioterrorism. Because seriously, what do you call it when someone rubs biohazardous substances with a thin sheet of paper with their bare hands then walks around touching common surfaces, spreading the biohazard all over? Seriously, Mandy Patinkin, get on this shit.

A lot of people realize that things in the loo are disgusting. The paper towel dispenser is not an exception to this. Different people have different tactics for getting their paper towel without resoiling their freshly washed hands. I, for example, use the lever on the dispenser to roll about two inches of towel out, wash my hands, rip off that short bit of towel, use it to dispense some more towel, throw out the first bit, dry my hands on the second portion of towel, turn off the sink with the towel, use said towel to open the door, then throw the towel in the trash. Sound pedantic? I'm actually skipping steps. I should dispense, wash, dispense, dry, dispense, turn off sink, dispense, open door.

So, here's the silly set up in the ladies room at work. There are two sinks. One sink has these lovely, long handles that you turn on and then, gasp, turn off when you're done. We'll call this Good Sink. The other is one of those monstrosities that you push the handle down on and it pops up whenever it damn well feels like it, so you have to keep turning the water on. And if you're OCD like me, that's fucking horrible, because you can't adequately wash your hands when you have to keep touching a dirty sink handle. Good Sink is on the right. Horrible Bacteria Time Loop Disaster in on the right. Next to the paper towel dispenser. So, here's a common scenario. I pop into the washroom to wash my hands, roll down the two inches of towel, start washing my hands. Some nasty, dirty person comes out of the stall, goes to HBTLD, splashes some cold water on her hands, takes my towel, and leaves without rolling more down for me. Or nasty, dirty person comes out, splashes cold water on her hands, then stands directly in front of the paper towel dispenser, poking at her eye makeup with her unclean hands, essentially just rubbing her ass all over the clean bit of towel I have hanging down. Incorrect Behavior. Correct Behavior: Step out of the stall, see somebody washing her hands, with a bit of paper towel hanging down from the dispenser. Common sense dictates that she's going to use that bit of paper towel to dispense more towel in a quasi-sanitary method. The woman in front of you was already washing her hands, so logic dictates she's probably almost done. Stand the fuck back, wait your goddamn turn, and don't touch her stuff. It's already awkward enough that you and this stranger were likely peeing at the same time, four feet apart. Don't impede her hand washing. Or, say she is particularly obsessive-compulsive and is taking five minutes to wash her hands instead of one. Hop onto HBTLD, wash your hands, use the towel, and ADVANCE MORE FUCKING TOWEL.

If you happen to be the person washing your hands whilst somebody is behind you waiting, leave the water running for them. It saves you having to figure out how to touch that disgusting faucet and acknowledges the other person's welcomeness to join in the fun that is handwashing.

Sometimes, people accidentally get some urine on the seat. There is a quite simple solution to this problem. Take a piece of toilet paper, and wipe the seat! When you piss all over the place and don't bother to clean up, you're basically just screaming "I'm disgusting!" And seriously, fuck you, disgusting people. I would hate to step foot in your home if you're so lazy and gross you can't even wipe up something that came out of your body. How fucking dare you suggest that somebody else clean up your bodily fluids? Pig bitch.

Ladies, your period sucks. I've been there; I get it. However, the situation sucking does not make it okay for you not to dispose of crap covered in your blood in an improper fashion. Yes, I'm not a moron. I do know it's not really blood. But I don't want to repeatedly type "Discharged uterine lining" so fucking deal. So, let's go over a list of gross stuff nobody should ever see in a public restroom:
-A tampon on the floor
- A pad that somebody has attempted to flush down the toilet
-A pad on the floor
-A pad/tampon sitting ON TOP of the trash can in the stall
-Blood. Anywhere. Ever.
-A pad/tampon sitting on top of the toilet paper dispenser
-A bloody pad/tampon in the trashcan, but unwrapped and at the top of the trashcan, so there's no possible way to put anything else in it or even change the liner without an extreme likelihood of touching some strange cunt's blood.
The proper response to the unfortunate situation of having to change your feminine hygiene materials in a public restroom are to remove it, wrap it in either toilet paper or a wrapper, and place it in the trashcan. Assuming the trash can has a hinged lid, close the trash can. Then wash your hands.

It's like kindergarten. Pick up after yourself, be considerate of others, and wash your fucking hands.

BUT YOU WORK HERE!!

So, this asshole walks into the store today. "How do I use your store's mobile app?"

"Let's look at it together."

"No! Just tell me what to do!"

"I don't know the app terribly well. I need to look at it as we go."

"But you work here! What do you mean you don't know the app?!"

"I work in a store, not in web development. I don't have an iPhone. If the store provided me with one, maybe I'd know the app. However, it's a different part of the company, and I'm actually not obligated to know it. I will gladly look at it with you, though."

"But you work here!"

"Where do you work?"

"I'm a receptionist at Blargity Blar Orthopedic Office."

"Oh, cool! So you know how to do custom fittings for prosthetic limbs?"

"No! God, you need to listen! I'm a receptionist! The doctors do the fittings."

"Oh. So you work for a company but don't know the details of things that aren't your department? That's weird. Why don't you know how to do everything?"

"I don't have the training to do fittings!"

"And I'm not an app developer. Would you like to figure it out together?"

The point of this, kids? Don't be that asshole who yells at somebody for not knowing every stupid detail of a company, especially when it comes to something like somebody in the store not knowing shit about the website, which is almost always a completely separate part of the company.

Do You Seriously Need to be Told It's Not Okay to Knock Over a 84-Year-Old Woman?!

I spoke to my mother on the phone tonight. She recently returned home after visiting her parents. My mother is 62 years old; her mother is 84. My grandmother is tiny, probably around 5'1". She has two bad shoulders and, as she's 84, is starting to develop some dementia and is starting to lose her equilibrium. In other words, she's a tiny old lady who is confused and wobbly.

So, my mom took my grandmother grocery shopping. The store they went to is a large Wal-Mart-esque store, only regional. There are two entrances to this store - one by general merchandise and one by grocery. Each entrance has six doors - three marked for enter, three marked for exit. My mom and my grandma were walking towards the exit. My mother now follows closely behind my grandmother, ready to catch her if she falls. So Grandma's going out the door closest to the cash registers, Mom's about six inches behind her. As they're walking through the door, a 6'2", heavy set, 30ish man decided my mom and my grandma were going too slow. Instead of taking literally two steps to the next door, he shoved past my Grandma going through the exit door. Literally pushed past her and wedged himself between the door frame and her cart, very nearly knocking her over. My mom, who always talks like a kindergarten teacher, yelled "Butt-head!" at him. The guy turned around and glowered at her. My mother, being angry this man almost hurt her mother, simply, "Yes. You. I'm talking to you." Then this bastard stepped towards my mother. Stepped towards my 62-year-old mother, with her bad knees. And her 84-year-old mother. Now, my mother does not look tremendously intimidating. She's 62. She's extremely heavy. She has trouble walking. She has had four surgeries for rotater cuff injuries. She looks like a harmless older lady. However, my mother also survived an abusive marriage. In fact, she threw her bastard of a husband out. She didn't leave. She threw him out. My mother has been a teacher for 37 years at an alternative high school in a city that has consistently been ranked one of the five most dangerous cities in the country. When this woman gets mad, she is absolutely fucking terrifying. I mentioned she's had four shoulder surgeries? Each one of those injuries was from her literally physically subduing and/or restraining raging teenagers who were beating the Hell out of each other. So when a big-boned, 30 years younger, 10 inches taller than her man stepped towards her, my mother stepped towards him, looked him in the eyes, and dead serious and perfectly calm, said "Bring it, Little Boy." He turned and didn't quite run out the door, but exited pretty quickly.

Two take aways from this. First: My mom's fucking awesome. Second: WTF, dude? What the fuck? Nothing about this behavior was necessary. He was literally less than an inch from assault. If he had actually bumped into this 84 year old, physically unstable woman, she would have fallen. If she had fallen, she almost certainly would have been injured. And then try to physically intimidate them when it was pointed out her was being an asshat? All because he's too rude and lazy to walk two steps further? Literally, two steps. I can't even justify taking the time and energy to explain why none of this is okay. If you need it explained, just go live in a cave. Never have human contact again. Seriously.

You know, what? One more take away. My mom is *really* fucking awesome. Every day. Not just because of this. Because of everything.

Filing Customer Complaints

While there are countless examples and stories to tell with those examples, tonight's bitching is inspired by a comment from a Facebook group I belong to. If you have a complaint about a policy, about management, about corporate TELL CORPORATE! Don't scream at a cashier or a floor associate because you don't like a store policy. What the fuck do you expect that under-appreciated, under-paid person trapped behind a cash register who you are berating to do? "That company policy is stupid! It's fucking ridiculous that your register physically locks up if you try to do what I'm telling you to do! Fix it!" "Oh, okay! I forgot that I'm magic! Thanks for reminding me with your kind words!"

You have a problem with a policy? Send a constructive e-mail to customer service. Don't scream at a cashier. That wastes her time, your time, the time of everybody in line behind you, makes you look like an asshole, and honestly makes it less likely for you to get what you want. If you're polite to the store staff, they may be able to do something for you. They probably can't change the policy that's making you unhappy, but they might be able to give you a discount for your inconvenience. Maybe. Don't get pissed off if they can't. Customer service usually can send you a gift card. If they don't, guess whose fucking fault it's not?

There's another thing that completely baffles me about the way people make complaints. I've been working in retail for 13 years and have only had two complaints ever made about me to a higher up. Both were pretty stupid. One complained to my store manager because I was helping another customer instead of her. Well, suck it, you arrogant bitch, I got promoted anyway. The other complaint given about me was just overwhelmingly stupid. No lies, I cried about it. I had quit smoking a year prior and when I got home, I bummed a cigarette from a neighbor and cried (it was also the first customer complaint I had ever received about myself). A customer called the store wanting to make a return. Over the phone. Wanted an immediate refund for merchandise that was in her home. Um, no. Even if I *could* issue a refund for merchandise that you're not actually returning to me, I don't have that type of access to your credit card. And why the fuck would you trust a company that would just up and change the amount they had charged you? If they can lower the amount they're charging you, they can sure as Hell raise the amount they're charging you. "I drove 20 minutes to get your store; I don't want to turn around and drive back." Oh, no! You drove 20 minutes? I drive 45 minutes one way to get to work. Also, you dumb bitch, I've told you five times I can extend the time frame of your return beyond our usual 30 days so you don't have to make a special trip. So, bitch gets super verbally abusive and begins threatening me over the phone. I invite her to contact our customer service department, because clearly I can't make her happy and, here's the important part, I know customer service's policy is to send gift cards to unhappy customers, and that would provide some compensation for the difficulty of having to drive 20 minutes. Nope. She doesn't want to talk to customer service, she wants me to hack into her bank account, apparently. After I tell her "no" several more times, she says fine, she'll contact customer service, and she wants my last name. Really? You've spent the last thirty-five minutes threatening me and you expect me to give you more information so that you can find me? Not a chance. (For my readers who don't personally know me, I once had a customer seriously threaten to kill me. Flat out said he was going to be waiting for me in the parking lot when the bank closed. My branch manager was standing five feet away from me and wouldn't help me, even though she was known for throwing people out of the bank over virtually anything. Since that, I don't fuck around when I feel threatened by customers, which thankfully isn't often.) I told the customer "My name is Rosalind. My employee number 5555555. You can find that on the top of your receipt, left hand corner. My store number is 1234, that is the number next to my employee number." "Not good enough! Give me your last name." "Absolutely not. I assure you, customer service will know who I am based on the information on your receipt. That's why it's on your receipt." Why? Why would anybody think they can threaten a person and then ask for further personal information about them?

I think that one kinda got away from me there.

Things to take away from this: Lodge your complaints to appropriate people; be respectful when complaining; and don't ask for further identifying information from a person you've been threatening.

Do You Really Think That Fucking Goes There?!

This is probably my biggest pet peeve. I'm using a grocery store as an example, but it's obnoxious anywhere.

Customer has gone all through the store, picking up stuff from different areas. They pick up a nice steak. They bring it up to the register, with their 8 zillion other items. Then in line, they decide they no longer want that steak. So they just shove it somewhere. Anywhere. The cashier is literally three feet away, but it's easier, apparently, to just shove that steak in the candy bars on the impulse display.

Thank you. That is just so unbelievably awesome of you. I won't find that steak for quite some time because I'm trapped in my register cage. So thank you for shoving it in the candy bars to spoil. And to contaminate the candy bars because, y'know, it's raw fucking meat. Please, do this and then scream at me about why prices are going up. You know why prices are going up? Because you just ruined $20+ of merchandise because you couldn't hand me something you'd changed your mind about! Even if you're not going to ruin a bunch of merchandise with your laziness, you're still going to fuck up our inventory count and make it so another customer can't get what they want. "Oooh, last box of chocolate chip granola bars. I'm going to take this for a walk around the store. Meh, I changed my mind. I don't want to walk back six feet down this aisle, and I'm going up to the cash register anyway, but I don't want to hand it to the cashier so it gets put back where it belongs. I'll hide it behind this coffee maker." Next customer wants some chocolate chip granola bars, but there aren't any on the shelf. So we do a stock check. We don't have any in the back, so that customer doesn't spend that $3.00 with us and goes to another store. Shortly after, we're making our shorts list, determining what we need to order for replenishment. "Oh, we're out of chocolate chip granola bars!" Order. We submit the shorts order, then while facing 10 hours later, we find granola bars stuffed behind the coffee maker. So now we've lost a sale, our inventory count is all FUBAR, we have extra stuff we actually don't need on its way, you've wasted my time by making me walk around in circles playing your secret scavenger hunt game and then put things back, we've had to stay late to participate in this scavenger hunt, and we're all grumpy. All because you're too fucking lazy to hand a small box to an employee. And guess what wasting our time and making us work later after the store closes leads to? More payroll going out (which I don't mind. I'll take extra money; that's cool). But where does the money for that extra payroll come from? Price modifications. And not in your favor.

I'm cool with customers not putting things back in their exact spots. It's hard enough for the people who spend forty hours a week in the store to know where things go. I don't expect customers to know exactly where every single thing is. But goddammit, if you change your mind, give your items to somebody who works there so we can take care of it!!!!!

Suggestive Selling

A lot of stores offer incentives to their employees for meeting certain goals with suggestive selling. Suggestive selling, in case anybody isn't aware, is a cashier trying to talk a customer into buying a specific product. This is most obvious when an impulse item is the suggestive sale item. For example, a candy bar or a pack of gum. Here's how suggestive selling conversations should go:

Cashier: Hello! How are you doing today/tonight?

Customer: I'm doing well. How yourself? [Yes, in my ideal world, everybody uses proper grammar]

Cashier: I'm also doing well. Did you find everything all right?

Customer: Yes! That lovely young man/woman stocking the aisles helped me find the flibbity-gibbits.

Cashier: Oh, wonderful! Man/Woman is quite fantastic. Your total is $11.66. Would you like to add a Chocolate Om Nom bar? They're on sale, three for $3 this week!

Customer: Oooh, yea! I love Chocolate Om Nom bars! I'll stock up while they're on such a great sale. I'll take twelve! Thank you for pointing out such a terrific deal!

[Bonus bitching: Yea!=yay! Yeah=Yeah. "Yea" is not an abbreviation of "yeah."]

I suppose it would also be all right if the customer's last line were replaced with "No thank you," though of course when making those sales are a part of your job and you do get that measly little commission, we prefer to hear yes.

Now, let's review some examples of shitty behavior that's not cool:

Cashier: Would you like to add a Chocolate Om Nom bar. They're three for $3 this week.

Customer: Fuck off!

Also not cool:

Cashier: Would you like to add a Chocolat--

Customer: NO!

Neither is:

Cashier: Would you like to add a Chocolate Om Nom bar?

Customer: No! Dammit, that's so annoying! Why the fuck do you bastards always try to make me add shit?

Now that we've covered the outright rude no-nos of refusing a suggestive sales, let's look at some of the obnoxious and/or stupid responses.

Cashier: Would you like to add a pack of gum? It's 99 cents and you get bonus points on your loyalty card this week!

Customer: Oh, no! Gum is so bad for you! [annoying enough]

Cashier: Okay, your total is $24.94.

Customer: Oh, wait. Can I get a carton of Marlboro Reds? 

[I assure you, if you've ever done this, your cashier wanted to choke you and say "Oh, no! Cigarettes are so bad for you!" - with love from a former smoker]

And then there's the "Oh, God, I'm so clever and witty and so proud of my humour!" jackass. Trust me, we appreciate that you're being nice, and we appreciate jokes, just not the same damn joke EVERY time.

Cashier: Would you like to add some Chocolate Om Nom bars? They're 3 for $3 this week.

Customer: Oooh. I would love some... [moment of hope! Oh God! I'm going to get some nickels!] But I shouldn't/I'm cutting back/my waistline doesn't think it's a good idea.

[THEN BUY A PACK OF FUCKING GUM! SCREW YOU FOR GETTING MY HOPES UP! I HAVE TO WORK TWO JOBS TO PAY MY RENT, I NEED MY NICKELS, ASSHOLE!]

Cashier: Haha, [polite smile], then your total is $Blah Blah

Not exactly related to suggestive selling, but the same goes for "Oh, my item didn't scan, likely because I handed you a crumpled up bag and a digit got missed? It must be free!" No. Get the fuck out of my store. You're unoriginal and far more annoying than you are funny. Oh and same with "What can I help you find today?" "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." As somebody who has received a genuine death threat from a customer, I assure you, that joke is never funny. Even though you're laughing and appearing to be nice, you make that joke, I want to hit my panic button and get the police there immediately.

I digress. Here's the fact about suggestive selling. Your cashier hates doing it more than you hate hearing it. Oh, no, you get asked maybe as often as once a day if you'd like to add something on to your order? I'm a floor associate; I only run register when I'm covering the cashier's break or when the cashier gets a huge line. That being said, I asked 52 people today if they'd like to add some Chocolate Om Nom bars. You know how many fucking did? 2. One of them was a coworker. They each added three, so I got a total of six nickels today. Thirty cents for 50 people either being rude or making the same dumbass, played out joke. I feel I should reinforce that this is where I vent and I'm a totally different person at work. When I'm at work, I'm actually quite friendly. I don't actually throw packages of gum at customers when they refuse to buy them (but oh would that be sweet). The point of this entire entry? Don't be rude in response to a suggestive sell. We're not doing it annoy you; we're doing it to not get fired. And to maybe accidentally be able to afford a soda at the end of the week.

How About I Just Not Pay You For an Hour of Work?

So, my birthday was about a month ago. The man I'm dating decided he wanted to take me out to lunch for my birthday. Cool, I guess. We have a discussion about where to go, and settle on a diner that is known for having lower prices and boo-ya milkshakes. I even provide coupons. So we go, we order, we eat. Our waitress is perfectly lovely. She's not extraordinary, but she's absolutely good enough, which to me is impressive, because waiting tables is a hard job. We go up to the counter, he pays. Because I'm nosy, I watch as he signs his credit receipt, because I want to know how much he's tipping her. And amazingly, he didn't. At all. Wrote a nice big zero on the tip line and copied down the subtotal for the total. Our total bill, for the both of us, was $16. Dude, if you can't afford to tip 20% on $16, that's unfortunate, but understandable. To remedy that, be willing to go Dutch. Or cook. Don't tell a girl you want to take her out for lunch and not tip. You're not just being an asshole, you're making your date look bad. You're damaging the opinion your date has of you. Oh, and you're being an asshole! Are you thinking "Meh, it's only $3.20, that waitress won't miss it"? National minimum wage for servers is $2.65! This woman spent an hour taking care of you, and you're going to just take away more than an hour's worth of pay from her? Not okay. You want to not suck as a customer? Tip your server. Don't belittle the person who brings you your food. They have so much control over what's about to go into your body. And, more importantly, that's a human being! That's a human being who works harder than most people do, and you think it's okay to just take away an hour's pay from them? NO. Just. Fucking. No. Throw a frozen pizza in the oven. Go to Taco Bell, where the employees spend 2 minutes with you and get paid actual minimum wage.