Don’t Yell at the Clerk…Moron
I was sitting at work when the contracts coordinator started telling a story about how one time he was at Home Depot and they charged him the wrong price for something and through a process of yelling at people, he got a bunch of free stuff. He announced with pride that once he reduced the clerk to tears, he did the same to the front end manager until finally the assistant store manager gave him what he wanted and more.
First of all, that sucks. Yes, it’s true that Home Depot couldn’t screw shit up more if they had an electrified screwing machine (and they do…it’s in hardware), but there has always been a sector of the population that is willing to check their dignity at the door and get free stuff by going to customer service and making a scene. As the equivalent of a store manager, I’ll apologize and make it right-but that’s it…unless, of course, you treat my people inappropriately. In that case, you’re out the fuckin’ door. Scream all you want – you’re the one who looks like an asshole. The stupid assistant manager did nothing more than undermine his employees and reinforce this dickface’s behavior.
Anyway, this guy’s job is yelling at contractors and making them pay. When was the last time you bragged openly about the time that you did your job for free? The thing that really got to me was the pure joy and pride that this guy derived from ruining at least two people’s days. I finally got tired of it and asked the guy if it made him feel powerful to make a 17 year-old girl who was making $8 an hour cry. This , of course, caused him to yell at me for five minutes. I tried to get him to shut up by giving him free office supplies but it didn’t work because anyone can just go and get them from the closet for free.
You know how the Mormons have to go out on mission for two years? I’m not a Mormon and I don’t really know what they do, I just know that they have to spend two years of their lives living in Alabama, in service to the church or something like that. I think it would be cool if we could somehow require everybody to spend two years working in retail or food service. Just dealing with the old people alone is enough to scare you straight. I mean seriously, have you ever been a grocery store checker or a waiter or a customer service representative or a person trying to walk down the street only to be forced to listen to an elderly person tell you about all their aches and pains and the medication they’re taking for them? Every single old person is qualified to be a licensed pharmacist. They can tell you all the possible side effects of Ditropan XL, but they can’t set their clock/radio. And they always end the story with the rectal finale. Every single time, it ends with shingles or hemorrhoids or constipation or strange obstructions or some such business.
Anyway, you get the point. I guess what I’m saying is that when your fries are sixteen degrees cooler than they should be, calmly ask the clerk for the manager. When the manager gets there, calmly ask them for their manager. Once you’ve finally found someone that makes over thirty-five grand a year, then start screaming strange phrases of entitlement and idle threats about how you’re never going to McDonald’s again. Seriously though, look at you. You’re gonna try and tell me that you’re never coming back to McDonald’s?
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I can say with a wealth of experience…you will receive far more satisfaction by NOT losing your shit from the get-go. Save that for the “boss”…and if she/he deserves it, by all means.
Uh…what aise, exactly, might one find this “electrified screwing machine”? Just curious.
Of course I meant “aisle”.
How retarded of me.
I RETARDED the timing on my 1970 Nova so it would sound a little meaner!
OH GOD! I said retarded! I hope I didn’t offend anyone!
Having worked in retail sales, food service, and at an elderly home as an employee and in management capacities. I have been yelled at by the best and I just smile at them and say, “I understand your frustration, what can I do to make this situation better for you?” That usually disarnms 90% of them. The other 10%, I just take them out behind the building and beat the living crap out of them. End of anger management lesson.
A girlfriend and I were discussing this very thing just last night. Everyone should wait a table or 500 in their lives, it teaches humility.
If it’s a male, I will threaten them within inches of their lives.
If it’s a female, I will understand and tell them what I have read about them.
Then, I will post it on my blog.
I was a counter jockey for many years (16) and it only hepled to increase my overall coolness. While…fuck you, get the fuck out, was at tip of my mind…my deadpan, calm demeanor drove them fucking nuts. If they lashed out at my employee, conversation over goodby and fuck off!! There are professional complainers. Cruise Line cattle are the worst from what I read. They want free shit because the fish at the buffett smells like fish!
I actualy do live in a geographically challanged location and love it! We have an ‘air strip’ with a orange wind sock. I tell people it is an intrenational airport because you really could get to anyplace from here…just not all at once. Funny thing is…there are no airplanes here!
I lost it a couple of days ago and feel really bad about it. Didn’t yell at the clerk – I know she couldn’t do anything to help – but did at the manager. I was on my way to a job interview and the suit I’d bought specifically for it still had the inventory control tag (the clerk I’d purchased it from forgot to remove it). Of course, I hadn’t kept the receipt. I had to go miles out of my way, and I was stressed and angry. I asked for the manager immediately, and she said without the receipt she could do nothing. All I asked for was a coupon for a discount on future purchases. Being stressed and frustrated was no excuse, and now I feel terrible.
Still, I won’t be going back to that store. I called corporate headquarters and was told that in cases like that it’s up to the store manager. At the time, I thought of filing a formal complaint on her, but decided not to.
I don’t see how there’s a way to make amends now, except for the rest of my life to do my best to be nice to the clerks.