CHAPTER 1
Part One: Corporation Red
The stupid people: They cannot be helped ...
It was 2006. I was sixteen years old and about to begin my thirdjob. I was starting as a cashier at Red Corporation in the middle ofNovember.
Early on, I learned most everything I needed to know courtesyof two ladies, Cruella and Glenda. Clearly, I liked one more than theother.
Cruella knew her stuff, but she was hateful. Never had I despisedsomeone so much. Cruella taught me everything Red wanted me toknow, and she taught me a few things Red probably did not wantme to know. Cruella showed me all of the ins and outs of the registerterminal. She showed me how to be confident and stare down rudeand nasty customers. She also told me who the managers favoredand disliked, and she taught me how to work the system. I knew Iwanted to be favored by the managers, Goody Two-shoes that I was,but Cruella was so bitter about being in the disliked category that Ijust nodded as she trashed everyone she could think of. Honestly,Cruella did know how to run a register, as well as the service desk,but she was not people-friendly.
Then there was Glenda. Glenda taught me what Cruella couldnot. Most importantly, Glenda taught me to have fun at work. Glendaand I shared more laughs than I knew were possible, and she andI became close. It was because of Glenda's recommendation that Iacquired a position at the customer service desk and eventually anoffice position. Everyone liked Glenda: Years after Glenda resigned,the personnel manager asked her to return to Red. That was nevergoing to happen, but Glenda and I laughed at the thought. My favoritecashier moments happened when I was at work with Glenda.
One evening, I was closing with Glenda. I was at my register, andGlenda was at the service desk. An older woman with graying hairwearing an outfit that was not fit to be worn outside her home camethrough my checkout line. She was carrying a large value packageof toilet paper. I started to scan her other items, and the womanstopped me.
"You need to check that toilet paper for mice," she said. I did nothave a clue what she was talking about. I just looked at her, puzzled.
"Check it for mice! Hold it up to the light and check it for mice!"she exclaimed. Like an idiot, I held the toilet paper package up tothe fluorescent lights and determined that there were no mice.Glenda was laughing herself silly at the desk, and I was completelydumbfounded.
I started examining the package. There were holes in the packagewhere the cardboard rolls were inside the toilet paper. People hadpoked their fingers through the holes to grab on to the package.Everyone does it.
"Those little holes are perfect homes for mice. Thank you forchecking." The woman paid and left. I went to the customer servicedesk and explained to Glenda what had just occurred. We wereespecially confused because we were fairly certain if there hadindeed been mice in those rolls that she would have noticed beforethe 150-foot walk from the toilet paper aisle to the checkout line.But this is simply an observation: What did I know?
Glenda and I proceeded to make fun of this situation when weheard a little girl scream. I looked at Glenda with a very serious lookand shouted, "Oh no! They found mice in the toilet paper!" Welaughed hysterically. It was an incredibly funny coincidence. I did feela twinge of guilt when the little girl came through my line with tearstainedcheeks and whimpering, but it was still exceptionally funny.
Censored thoughts: When to keep your mouth shut ...
Two years later, I had officially been trained at the customer servicedesk, and I knew all there was to know about the register.
Customer service is a special breed of nasty. Although it can befun and mildly entertaining because there are generally more thingsto do than being a cashier, customer service is like being repeatedlyslapped in the face. It is painful and irritating and generally leads tostress relief in the form of smoking, drinking (my preference wasMountain Dew), or complaining.
I knew people could be difficult, but it sometimes felt as thoughRed attracted a special breed of crazy. I mean, the store was in apoor, somewhat trashy community, but there were a lot of religiousestablishments, so I would have guessed that the apparent religiosityin the town would have diluted the unadulterated stupidity andnastiness. However, I was wrong. So very wrong.
A cashier may occasionally incorrectly ring up an item, or theprice may not be what the customer thought it was. The employeemay or may not be at fault.
However, there are times when we have absolutely no controlover the circumstances about which the customer is complaining.My personal favorite is when a product hasn't been available for fiveyears and a customer becomes irate that we no longer carry it. So,one day, a mean lady came into the store and started to complain—no,no, berate me—about the situation noted above. I could feel myblood pressure rising, my heart pounding, and my face burning. But Ijust continued to nod and say "Yes, ma'am." On and on she harassedme. The phone would ring, and she would just keep going. I had tosignal to a cashier to pick it up and transfer it for me. Finally, the ladyshut up, declared she was going to Yellow, and stormed out.
In my mind, I yelled back at her with a smooth presentation offacts that proved this was neither my fault nor Red's. The goods inquestion were no longer being manufactured. However, I remainedsilent because I needed my job and I would have most certainly beenfired had I acted on impulse. I had come to expect such treatmentfrom this woman, who was a regular customer, but the fact remainedthat there was no reason that she should have yelled at me or anyoneelse. Her issue was not the fault of anyone anywhere nearby. Thingshappen, businesses close, and products are discontinued. It's life.
I was in Yellow later that week and saw her when I was shopping.I thought about bludgeoning her in the store but reconsidered whenI thought about the movie I wanted to see that weekend. I did myshopping, and she did hers. She did not even know I existed. Well,as it would happen, I went through the checkout line at the sametime she did. I started in the same line, but when I saw her, I movedover an aisle, mostly to eavesdrop. I overheard her conversationwith the cashier.
"That's the wrong price! That's supposed to be five dollars!" sheexclaimed.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. That is the right price. I called the department,"the cashier replied.
"Well, they lied. They always do that when I am in here. I haveproblems every single time I come in here. Forget it. Cancel thewhole thing—I am going to Red," the mean lady said.
I stood there in a stupor. What? Did she really just play thatcard? Really? A few days earlier, she'd told me the opposite. I havewitnessed this more than once. Customers play this game becausethey think cashiers care if they leave without purchasing something.Well, here's a fun fact: We do not.
Here's a simple ratio for you to explain this fun fact. If a customeris happy, friendly, and personable, the cashier will go above andbeyond to satisfy his or her every wish. I have changed prices becauseI did not want to hurt someone's feelings. However, if a customer isrude or hateful and threatens to go elsewhere, the cashier isn't goingto do anything. In fact, I have seen cashiers provide directions to acompetitor. Follow the Golden Rule: Treat your cashier nicely, andwe will be nice; treat us like we are trash, and we will gladly wave toyou as you leave.
Wire transfers
Ahhhh ... Western Union. This is a one of the ferocious beasts of thecustomer service desk. Everyone hates Western Union, includingme. And almost everyone is scared shitless of Western Union. I amnot scared, but Western Union seems sketchy. I personally don'tunderstand Western Union. Anybody can wire someone else moneythrough a couple phone calls to a bank. And most people have debitor credit cards linked to those accounts, so why do you need to havea wire transfer? Furthermore, wire transfers cost money; there is atransfer fee. At first glance, I don't like Western Union because it isweird. But I would like to explain why I think it is sketchy.
First, I think it is sketchy because the people who are sending orreceiving are often either sending it to someone in jail or receivingthe money in jail. As I have never been in jail, I am confused whyyou would need money in jail. Rent? No. Food? No. Insurance? No.Taxpayers take care of all that. So why do inmates need money?
Second, I think this is sketchy because the people sending themoney, if they aren't sending the money to someone not imprisonedfor a crime, are vulnerable. They are old or poor or both. I haveserved many people who are confused about Western Union andhave some person yelling at them on the phone, generally tellingthem to send the money. And this feels super-duper sketchy.
Third, I think this is sketchy because if something happens tothe computer where Western Union transactions are processed,the person you are required to call inevitably doesn't speak English.Ever. If you are going to send money in the United States to anotherplace within the United States, all parties should speak English.Furthermore, the customer service representative on the other endof the phone should be nice and not rude.
So, here's the bottom line about Western Union: Do not use it. Itis sketchy. It is weird. And I think it is weird to be charged for sendingyour money to a friend who needs money. Don't even look at thesigns. I'm serious. Don't do it.
The unique loyalty card: I already have five of these ...
The year was 2009. It was fall. Cruella had returned to Red aftera brief hiatus. We had a jerk for a manager who was young andthought he could reinvent the wheel. Red introduced its own loyaltycard that would earn customers cash back, free prizes, and possiblylarge cash prizes.
Red jumped into the loyalty card pit in November, right beforeThanksgiving when the corporation spends the most on marketing.Employees were forced to enroll first, and a week later, the programopened to the public. I was the second person enrolled at my Redstore. At first, when we asked customers to enroll, they were excited.People periodically won free prizes like chocolate pudding or abottle of lotion. Who turns down chocolate pudding? No one. Buteventually, the corporation wanted more people registered.
The numbers became all that mattered. If we did not havefive people registered by nine every morning (we opened at eight,and we were lucky to have five customers an hour later), we wereyelled at over the phone. The district manager, Albert, requiredmanagers to send numbers for warranties, loyalty cards, and creditcard applications every hour from nine to six. He religiously checkede-mails, and the store was called if the numbers were not in on time.Loyalty cards were no longer fun. They were cutthroat, and theywere a hassle.
After several months of these shenanigans, our beloved softlines manager was transferred to another store forty minutes away.We got a new manager—a man—by the name of Chuckles. Chuckleswas the best thing since indoor plumbing. Easily. However, oneproblem with Chuckles was that he did not really care how loyaltycard numbers were achieved; he recommended falsifying namesand numbers.
The phonebook was used to obtain information for quite a fewregistrations, because everything we needed was right there. Wetried to not use people who lived in our town to reduce the likelihoodthat they would come in and try to register themselves.
I know this sounds bad. I do. However, all corporations push theirloyalty cards to the point of insanity. In addition, store managers whoare drunken with corporation mottos and probably have tattooedbarcodes on their children or used the policy and procedures fortheir personal finances push employees incredibly and unbearablyhard. There is only so much employees can do.
If a corporate bigwig is reading this, please understand somethingvery simple: There is no perfect line that will guarantee a customerwill register for a loyalty card. The training employees must endure isridiculous. If a customer does not want the card, he will not registerfor it. There are few cashiers, if any, who will just wholesale scan acard every time and force a customer to take the card. No matterwhat the benefits are, no matter how many children it will save, orhow many puppies get good homes as a result, it is just one morecard to carry. I am the first to agree I do not like cards either.
Every store has loyalty cards these days. They are not uniqueanymore. They are a corporate fashion trend. Oh my, Purple hasa funny shape or Pink has bright fashionable colors with a thirty-percentdiscount with the first purchase. It doesn't matter. It isimpossible to register every single customer. And if you think thatyou are not using the right terminology to bait the customer, you arejust as deluded as the higher powers that I have described. Loyaltycards are out of control. They are a retail plague. And I am so gladthat Yellow does not have a loyalty card. Good for them.
An interesting phenomenon ...
One puzzling thing about Red was that it seemed to be plagued byinternal theft. This was puzzling because Red, at least for the mostpart, did not make a lot of money. Therefore, there really wasn'tmuch to steal except the merchandise, which aside from maybe theclothes, was not really of high quality anyway. In general, retail theftis a funny thing: As retail associates, it is very difficult for us to doanything. Some personnel can because they have special training;others ... not so much.
Internal theft is particularly fun for a few reasons: It gives otherassociates something to talk about, and managers try to sniff it outlike bloodhounds (thinking they will get promoted or somethingfor catching thieves in the act). It makes absolutely no sense. If youare caught and prosecuted for theft, thousands of jobs are nowunavailable to you because now you have a criminal record that youmust report. And you must show any steps that have been taken torectify this character flaw. Too much trouble, if you ask me. And yetthere is so much of it.
A really creepy drunkard Red employee stole more than $3,000in electronics from Red over a period of six months. Crazy, right? Hemostly stole video games and CDs, but there were larger items, aswell. Personally, I wasn't surprised that he was busted. I was actuallyvery happy because he gave me the willies.
Three guys from the quickly-made food department were firedfor theft. They would make fresh food at the end of the night, pretendit was old, and sell it as if it were old. So a sandwich, for example,was going for a dollar instead of five. I am not sure how long theydid this, but I know that I was very sad that two of them were fired.One of them was cute and funny, and the other was very funny. Thethird was a jackass. I didn't care two shits about him.
A girl who had been with Red maybe two weeks was working aregister. Her friend came through her line. She gave her $500 cashright out of her drawer. The kicker was that she then hired at Yellow.Weird? I think so. But I don't think they can legally ask why you werefired from a job, so that may be why she was hired.
This final example is not one of internal theft, but it's so awesome,I can't not tell you about it. RA, the soft lines manager, was a fiercelady. And she was scary when she was mad. One night, she wasclosing. RA noticed that there were two teenagers wearing baggypants limping around the store. They kept bumping into racks ofclothes and knocking stuff over. She started to follow them andrealized they were stealing shit in those baggy pants. She swoopedaround and got in front of them.
"You take that stuff out of those pants right now, boys," RA said.
They just look at her, pale-faced.
"Come on, I don't have all night. Take that stuff out, or you aren'tleaving the store," she said.
The boys each pulled two two-liter bottles of Mountain Dew,a pair of shoes, two CDs, and some Axe shower gel out of theirpants. They pulled it all out of the bottom of their pants and bolted.Greatest event ever. We technically are not allowed to confrontcustomers, but RA did. She was awesome. I still can't believe she didthis, and it was so long ago.
The end was near ...
Working at Red was an important life experience for me, but my timethere was coming to an end.
I had worked at Red for more than four years, but still madeonly minimum wage and had part-time hours. I was also the officemanager and front-end manager. And still only made minimum wage.I was the IT person for the store; I paid all of the store's bills; I wasin charge of supplies, filing, invoicing, accounts payable, accountsreceivable, cleaning, training cashiers, supervisors, and cash officepeople; and I occasionally moonlighted as in human resource.
I made minimum wage.
This is why retail sucks the most. I was paid very little for a wholebunch of work and tasks that consumed thirty to forty hours a week.How was that remotely fair? Oh, right. It wasn't.
I know I am an American with childish and selfish ideas aboutcompensation for my efforts, especially when people in third-worldcountries do not have clean water. I know. I'm selfish and greedy.But I had bills to pay. I was a college student, and my parents madetoo much money for me to qualify for much financial aid. Plus, I hada phone, internet, and a car to maintain on top of college tuitionand books. Minimum wage is a joke. There is no way that a personwith anything other than a few milk crates, a blanket, and maybeelectricity can afford to live on minimum wage.
