<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:51:47.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Retail Report</title><subtitle type='html'>Going to School Full Time/Working at a Pharmacy/Working at Target:                                            This is my insanity.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>262</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-1470124431168987512</id><published>2007-12-31T09:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T10:09:25.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Cow</title><content type='html'>Where have I been? Every time I say I'll post more, I disappear. There's a lot to catch up on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My internship at another pharmacy went well. They didn't really have me do much more than I do at my other pharmacy. I did get to use the computer a little bit though, so that helped. But what was interesting is that someone tried to pass a fake prescription off on us and we got to call the cops! It was quite obvious that the script was fake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My pharmacy hasn't been too eventful lately, or at least nothing I can remember at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Target has been sketchy as usual. After 4 months at that store, they FINALLY tell me to talk to the Target pharmacy manager to see about working over there. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Thaaaaaaanks&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;And returns are in full effect. People get bitchier and bitchier the further we move away from Christmas. And as usual, people are complete assholes if something doesn't go their way. Sometimes I can't help but just smile when people are going into their tirades about returns. Good gravy there are a lot of immature people in this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, it was just crazy at Guest Service. Of course I was the only one scheduled up there even though it was the first fucking weekend after Christmas, it's going to be busy! They had another cashier up there helping me, but as soon as there weren't any guests in line, they pulled her even though I had to catch up by filling carts with all the shit up at Guest Service. There was a good 2 hour block where we couldn't do anything but help people at GS. Therefore it was a fucking mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the closing person came in early and she was a bit overbearing. She was bossing me and the other girl around like her shit didn't stink. Thankfully she stopped as I was about to bitch her out. I know what I'm fucking doing thank you very much. We had a few minor arguments over little things, but we dealt. I just hate when people treat me like I don't know anything without knowing anything about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I suppose that's enough bitching for now. Happy New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-1470124431168987512?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/1470124431168987512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=1470124431168987512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/1470124431168987512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/1470124431168987512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/12/holy-cow.html' title='Holy Cow'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-3040882282324684122</id><published>2007-12-12T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T16:39:48.785-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Much New Here</title><content type='html'>I haven't been working all that often recently because it's finals week, but I am done with my first semester of pharmacy college! Now I'll just have to wait for the grades to roll in... I should be fine. A's and B's like always. ;) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did work at the pharmacy on Saturday but it was SO COLD that we didn't do much. I pretty much cleaned the whole time. The pharmacist let me go at 3:15. From 9am to 3:15pm, the pharmacy did 34 prescriptions. Eek!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am interning in my hometown over break for school. I'm kinda nervous for that too. We have to do 28 hours total, and we could either choose to do it as a block (3.5 days) over winter break, or 4 hours a week for 7 weeks during next semester. The less I have to worry about during school the better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping my grades are good! (The only one I'm "concerned" about is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BioChem&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-3040882282324684122?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/3040882282324684122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=3040882282324684122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/3040882282324684122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/3040882282324684122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/12/not-much-new-here.html' title='Not Much New Here'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-3379393528060967102</id><published>2007-12-04T15:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T15:41:41.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rx: An Introduction</title><content type='html'>So you all know I work at Target, and I've mentioned I work at a different pharmacy, but never really went into it. Well, here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in my first year of the pharmacy program at my university, and to help with school, they recommend working at a pharmacy. It helps you learn things. So I have my internship license, and I applied for a job as an "intern" at a local pharmacy. Needless to say, I got the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had never worked in a pharmacy before so everything was brand new to me. At the moment, all I do is count pills, answer phones, assist customers (or patients, at least they aren't "guests"), and do whatever else needs to be done. But on the ladder of things, the intern is below the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pharm&lt;/span&gt; tech, as they really should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone there seems to like me, but I don't know where I stand. I know, and so do they, that I am there to learn, but some days I can't help feeling that I'm just in the way. They haven't shown me how to do everything that they expect me to know, and so when I do it for the first few times and make a mistake, I always feel like I'm going to get fired. I'm usually a quick learner, but I guess things just take a few times to actually know. And because I don't work all that often or do the specific task all that often, it just isn't in the forefront of my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And only there is when I feel like I'm going deaf. On the phone, when patients call in for refills, they give their name and prescription number or drug name. I don't know if it's the phone, the person, or me, but sometimes I have to ask for their name again, and for some people that is like the end of the world. I'm sure I'll get used to it as I go, but it's just frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you throw in the actual patients/customers. Some are not a fan of me by the way some of them treat me. Again, I don't know if they are just cranky or whatever. I've already been yelled at by some.&lt;br /&gt;One ladies' &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; were supposed to be mailed out, but were put in the wrong group (for delivery) and because she spoke to me originally, she yelled at me for not getting it in time. Granted, not my fault, but still made me feel like shit.&lt;br /&gt;Or the guy who brought in a script and I gave it to the pharmacist to enter (they haven't shown me how to do anything with the computer) and because there was nothing else to do (it was dead and we already did everything that could be done) I just stood there. The guy said to the pharmacist, "Does he do anything at all?" The pharmacist explained, and I'm sure the guy was just crabby, but still, it made me feel like shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not one to have thin skin. 5 years in retail behind the returns counter toughens you up. I think things just get to me more because I'm not fully confident in what I do at the pharmacy. At Target, I know pretty much everything that has to do with Guest Service. At the pharmacy, I don't know a lot of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also goes back to the whole idea that people have that employees of whatever place of business are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to treat like crap. It's sad to see how someone could be so vicious to a total stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there are nice people too. People do like to talk with everyone and are truly interested in what you have to say. Also, when I was taking a phone call, they needed a pharmacist and asked if I was one, I told them, no that I was just an intern, and she said I shouldn't say "just" because I was "getting there." So that was nice.&lt;br /&gt;I guess all I want is an understanding that I am a human too, and I'm still learning. I will make mistakes and continue to do so, but empathy always helps. It's a two-way street.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-3379393528060967102?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/3379393528060967102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=3379393528060967102' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/3379393528060967102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/3379393528060967102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/12/rx-introduction.html' title='Rx: An Introduction'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-2999245490636482075</id><published>2007-12-04T15:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T15:10:33.689-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something New</title><content type='html'>I changed my web address as I'm planning on getting away from just Target posts. Since I've changed it, the links some may have here won't work anymore. If you come across this (which I don't see how anyone could find me now that I've changed it) the new address is &lt;a href="http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://retailrobot.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm expanding my base. I'm sure one could get tired of my endless bitching about Target, so now you'll get my endless bitching on all my jobs. I'm pretty sure I'll always be in retail, so retail robot works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's my update. Comment if you were able to find this place ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-2999245490636482075?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/2999245490636482075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=2999245490636482075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2999245490636482075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2999245490636482075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/12/something-new.html' title='Something New'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-6986356703584110464</id><published>2007-11-29T08:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T09:03:42.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick of Battling</title><content type='html'>I'm tired of constantly trying to get into the pharmacy. There is always a hurdle. Either that or my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dumbass&lt;/span&gt; (not just saying that because I'm angry) has to be told 15 million times to check on something for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now what really pisses me off is:&lt;br /&gt;My manager was at my old store to help, and she thanked that Store Team Lead for all the great transfers, specifically mentioning my friend, but not me. And because I know people in that store still, it got back to me. So now I feel like I'm (still) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;underappreciated&lt;/span&gt;. Some days, I hold that store together. I am pretty confident that I am the only person in the store that can do cashier, guest service, photo lab, cart attend, Food Ave, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;salesfloor&lt;/span&gt;. And do I get recognized for it? Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how long I can stay there if I'm doing the same thing day in and day out. I'll keep asking, but we'll see what other excuses they can come up with for the time being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to start thinking up some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;smartass&lt;/span&gt; comments for my exit survey and what to put on the 'Reason for Leaving' line...&lt;br /&gt;Time will only tell if I need to use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could always change this into my pharmacy blog. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-6986356703584110464?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/6986356703584110464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=6986356703584110464' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/6986356703584110464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/6986356703584110464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/11/sick-of-battling.html' title='Sick of Battling'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-5366465475367258087</id><published>2007-11-20T21:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T22:06:06.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shitastic Weekend</title><content type='html'>This past weekend was a bit much for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, I was about to fucking explode. So I was scheduled 6:30-10 as a cashier. Well, I get to work and was informed that the Food Ave person called in sick, so the cart attendant was over there, and guess who got to be the cart attendant? Me of course! Because I was expecting to only cashier, I didn't bring anything with me so I could cart attend comfortably. Now, it's pretty cold here, with highs in the 40s. I just had a spring jacket, no gloves, no hat, and no winter coat. I was cold. Really cold. But I went out to the lot and got carts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one, there should be a sign up that states, "Any garbage left in a cart will be thrown into your vehicle as carts are not garbage cans." The garbage I found in carts, mostly half empty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Icees&lt;/span&gt;, were thrown on the ground because I was not going to spill all over myself bringing it to the garbage. I'm not a janitor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One would assume that since I've never been officially trained as a CA that they would tell me what needs to be done, other than getting carts. Well needless to say, they were bitching at me for not doing something that I didn't know that needed to get done. I'll be the first to admit that I am not a mind reader. So I had to empty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;garbages&lt;/span&gt;. Am I a custodian? (Target DOES have an overnight CLEANING crew, by the way) Then I had to take back &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;garbages&lt;/span&gt;, and fill pop coolers, which is something that Coke or Pepsi does. I was pretty behind as I didn't know what needed to get done, and instead of telling me, they yelled at me for not doing them. Great business practice. After the CA got done with Food Ave, he resumed his position. Thank god. Although he wasn't too happy with me because I was so behind. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then on Saturday was my 2 hour pharmacy shift. That flew by, although it was fun to "shadow" over there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was 9-4:30 at Guest Service. My manager was working and she asked me what I thought about the pharmacy, and I told her I liked it and would be interested in working more over there. At that moment, it being about 3 months since I've started, that I would need that state's intern &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;licensure&lt;/span&gt;. Thanks for not telling me sooner! I knew that if I wanted to intern over there I would need that, but I didn't know if there was another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;position&lt;/span&gt; that I could do over there. Apparently not. So I will see how much it costs to get an intern &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;licensure&lt;/span&gt; in that state, and if I decide to go through with it, I better get a majority of my shifts over there because I don't want to pay extra so that I can work over there, and not be able to. That would be my quitting point. And then I wouldn't even be able to use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's more drama! Since they overlapped me on Black Friday and the following Saturday, I asked her what time I should be coming in. She told me that she put 6 on Fri and 5 on Sat, the exact time I get done at my other job. So I tell her that wouldn't work, and before I can finish what I was going to say, she freaks out on me and just tells me she just put a time and that I could come as soon as I could. Don't bitch at me because you had my pharmacy schedule for this weekend back in October. Plus, she said she updated it in the system, but she didn't tell my supervisors because they still had me down for the incorrect times, and the last thing I need that day is to get a call saying I'm late. So I told them I'd be there ~45 minutes after I go done at my other job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And up at Guest Service, my eyes aren't really out watching the lanes. 1) It's not my job. 2) I could care less.&lt;br /&gt;So when the store got really busy, but GS was dead. My evil bitch manager yells at me from a lane to come grab some people and ring them up at GS. I didn't even respond, I just went and grabbed someone. I hate her. Not because she made me work, but because she was being a snotty little brat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So between my 2 jobs (because Target overlapped me after they said they wouldn't) I work a total of 32.5 hours in 3 days. Fun, huh? Needless to say, I'm sure I will be a complete asshole this weekend. But I am going to bring my winter gear because I will probably cart attend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would really hate to leave the company over their bullshit, but that's all that's coming out of it right now. Plus, I doubt Target would care if I left now if I ever did want to come back as a pharmacist. People are dying for pharmacists right now, so I'm sure they would still love to have me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I can take much more as a cashier/service desk/cart attendant/photo lab/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;salesfloor&lt;/span&gt; slave for much longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***UPDATE!***&lt;br /&gt;It costs $20 to register in the other state. Not bad, but it has to be after my second year, which makes me wonder how the other person in my class is able to pull it off. I have plenty of questions now, and even closer to just dropping Target like a bad habit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-5366465475367258087?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/5366465475367258087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=5366465475367258087' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/5366465475367258087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/5366465475367258087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/11/shitastic-weekend.html' title='Shitastic Weekend'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-5971730482469220594</id><published>2007-11-16T10:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T10:28:09.157-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cycle Continues</title><content type='html'>So as much bitching as I have been doing to get into the pharmacy, they finally give me a shift over there. ONE shift so far, and guess how long it is... 2 fucking hours. Two hours? That's really not even worth it. So I work 10-12 in the pharmacy tomorrow, but I haven't had another pharmacy shift scheduled yet, but they sure love to load me up on the cashier ones. Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't know if I have already written it here, but someone in my class transferred to the Target store I'm at, and guess where he gets all of his shifts. The pharmacy. Yep, thank you Target for stabbing me in the back. They continually told me that once there was an opening in the pharmacy, that I could have some shifts over there, yet when someone else transfers there, they apparently don't have to wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make me even more pissed, they scheduled me outside of my availability for Black Friday and the following Saturday. I turned in my availability for the whole month of November in October. They knew I work every Friday 1-6 and every other Saturday 9-5 at the other pharmacy, yet they scheduled me 3-11 on Friday and 3:30-11 on Saturday. I wrote a note to the LOD, and I'm letting her fix it. I just don't want to be running from one place to the next. Especially when they said they won't overlap me on Saturdays that I work at the other pharmacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guests haven't been too bad lately, although I am seeing more and more Canadians. I literally cannot stand how some of them act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I work tonight 6:30-10 cashiering after working 1-6 at the pharmacy, so I have no time to eat. AT ALL. Then tomorrow is my super long 2 hour pharmacy shift, and Sunday I work Guest Service from 9-4:30. This store is getting on my last nerve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-5971730482469220594?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/5971730482469220594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=5971730482469220594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/5971730482469220594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/5971730482469220594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/11/cycle-continues.html' title='The Cycle Continues'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-541587259913053697</id><published>2007-11-05T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T14:17:55.402-08:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Years</title><content type='html'>Today, I "celebrate" my 5 year anniversary working for Target. Oh boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I would be there that long, and had no intentions of staying this long either. It was back in 2002 that I was hired for seasonal. I was in high school and needed a job. Now I am in college (still), but I can say for sure that if I do make it to 10 years (shudder), I will be done with school by then. If I am still at Target at that time, I'll be a Target pharmacist!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back at my 5 years, I mainly see how great most of the people were that I worked with. I'm still friends with many of them, even though they may not work for Target any longer. I also remember back when I first started how much fun it was to work there. There are still fun days now, but back in the day, it seemed like everyday was a fun one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm definitely a different person now than I was walking into this job, and I'd like to think I've changed for the better. I've seen how awful some people treat total strangers and I can take that with me to know how not to treat people in the "real" world. If people want to have a good grasp on the many different varieties of people in society, working retail will get you that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, there were bad times. Times where it seemed like it was 'too much' to deal with. Times where it felt like people were put on this Earth to test my sanity. Well, I'm still here, and I continue to be. The only thing that got me through everything that happened at my store were my friends/co-workers. We all seemed to be on the same page, and everyone would listen and understand. It's what brought us together, complaining about something. ;) Even on the worst days, you could count on your co-workers to brighten your day. I hope when I'm out in the "real world" that I can find friends that are even half as awesome as my Target friends. I know that I'll be friends for life with my current Target friends, although it does feel like I "left" them to pursue my own goals. But, that's another topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as much as I bitch and moan about working there, it isn't half bad. The job may suck at times, but it's the people that make it worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's a bit sappy, but whatever. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-541587259913053697?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/541587259913053697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=541587259913053697' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/541587259913053697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/541587259913053697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/11/5-years.html' title='5 Years'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-2381048580911898967</id><published>2007-10-29T13:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T13:25:15.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Been A While</title><content type='html'>Well after a round of nothing but boring days, I finally had an interesting one yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we had the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; in the ad and so there was a bunch of traffic for the first part of the day. It was also pretty busy due to Guitar Hero 3 coming out as well. When someone wants to buy a high-ticket item such as the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;, they either have to buy it at Electronics or the team member has to walk it up to Guest Service and we keep it behind the counter. We were even going as far as getting the guest's name in the off-chance that someone saw it at GS and would try to buy it.&lt;br /&gt;I hear a guest say that they had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; at Guest Service. Because I wasn't doing anything, I took it and started to walk over to the cashier that was walking to me to come get it. All of a sudden, a crazy guy starts grabbing for it, saying, "Here, I'll take that." I knew he wasn't with the person who was going to purchase it so I told him no and the cashier took it to her lane. Well this crazy guy started yelling at me. First he asked if we had anymore, to which I told him to check with electronics. Nope, that was the last one. So he starts bitching that we won't give him a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;raincheck&lt;/span&gt;. I tried multiple times explaining that Target's "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;rainchecks&lt;/span&gt;" only guarantee the sale price, and since the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; is not on sale, it wouldn't do any good. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;rainchecks&lt;/span&gt; do not inform anyone when the item will be in stock next. He kept interrupting me each time I tried to tell him this, and one time he said, "That's fine. I'm going to call the Better Business Bureau." I stopped what I was saying and just walked away from him (we were still in front of Guest Service) The guy stood by the door and watched the woman who was checking out like a hawk. It was really creepy, so our supervisor walked out with that guest just in case he tried to pull anything.&lt;br /&gt;The thing is this was at 1:30pm. Our store opened at 8am. If getting a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; was SO important to you, why did you wait 5.5 hours to come in? For that first 5.5 hours, you could have gotten one, so don't bitch when you come in and there aren't any left. I'm surprised they lasted even that long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so sorry for the BBB who has to listen to such bullshit claims just because someone didn't get what they wanted. Grow the fuck up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-2381048580911898967?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/2381048580911898967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=2381048580911898967' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2381048580911898967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2381048580911898967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/10/been-while.html' title='Been A While'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-6902188639991997106</id><published>2007-10-02T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T21:41:18.885-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Shoot Me In The Face</title><content type='html'>More stupid fucking drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I turned in my new availability with my new hours now that I'm also going to be working at another pharmacy. I specifically write on it to talk to me if what I wrote won't work. Well it didn't work, and did they talk to me? Of course not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the weekend that I said I was working at the pharmacy, they schedule me. Well &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;y'know&lt;/span&gt; what Target, they are more important than you now because it's an actual pharmacy. You're dragging your feet with moving me into your pharmacy, so I found someone that wants/needs me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead they put my rejected availability into my folder (which I assume I got just so they could put that in there, I hadn't had one for almost a month now) and I see I'm scheduled. I find my supervisor and bitch because how am I supposed to know when I only work weekends and I still have no idea when they do the schedule for each week. And I sure as fuck am not ditching any part of my new job because they scheduled me before Target did. I wonder if I should just ask my new job to schedule me one week in advance of Target so I could turn their schedule for me into them and they could work around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here's how I was/am scheduled for next weekend. Friday, I work 1-6 at the pharmacy and Target scheduled me 5-10. So I'm working now at 6:30. Saturday, I work 9-5 at the pharmacy and Target scheduled me 2:30-10. So now I work at 5:30. So this is the next weekend for me:&lt;br /&gt;Friday- class until 12, pharmacy 1-6, Target 6:30-10&lt;br /&gt;Saturday- pharmacy 9-5, Target 5:30-10&lt;br /&gt;And I don't even have my schedule for Sunday, but thank god the pharmacy is closed. So just those 2 days I'm pretty much working 24 hours of 48. It shall be fun! I don't even know if I can make it to my apartment to change in between jobs, but I'll try my best. I hope they don't have me working too long on Sunday. I have too much shit to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh but get this, on my rejected availability, my manager writes that she talked to the pharmacy-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;instore&lt;/span&gt; and they said I could work over there if I was still interested. Uh, YES! Had you told me this, um, about 3 weeks ago and actually put me over there, I wouldn't have needed to get another pharmacy job!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on my new availability, I wrote that the other pharmacy wanted me to work every other Saturday, so they have SOME record of it. (I know they would deny it back and forth if I didn't constantly write it on shit) I also told them I would be interested in working in their pharmacy on the days I was available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole thing is turning out to be one giant fucking mess. I don't think I can take one more week of adjusting my whole work-life around them. One week was stressful enough. I wonder if Target will actually LET me work at this new pharmacy, or if they'll continue to make it tough for me. If they choose the latter, I hope they know that they will be the first I say goodbye to, not the pharmacy. I'm sick of being the college-aged kid cashiering at a Target with high school aged cashiers. I just feel really old at that store. I don't mind Guest Service, but it's not as fun as my old store. My new store literally does not want you to go above and beyond, and that's all I'm about. I want a challenge. I'm just not getting one anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see how Target pharmacy goes, and if I ever get to work over there. I'm going to get my schedule for the week after next weekend on Friday. I actually don't even want to think about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-6902188639991997106?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/6902188639991997106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=6902188639991997106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/6902188639991997106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/6902188639991997106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/10/just-shoot-me-in-face.html' title='Just Shoot Me In The Face'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-127128753596723179</id><published>2007-09-27T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T08:53:00.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I May Be Pissed Off</title><content type='html'>But I don't know for sure yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my store, I asked if I could work in the pharmacy. Makes sense because I'm in school to be a pharmacist. So the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;LOD&lt;/span&gt; tells me that I could start shadowing over there "to see if I like it." It's not a matter of me liking it, it's going to be my career. Like everything with Target, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;LOD&lt;/span&gt; gave me no start date. All of our professors say that working in a pharmacy helps immensely with school work, and so I'm kinda wanting to get into one soon. When I transferred, they had told me there were no openings in the pharmacy and that's why I think they first went to the "shadowing" thing. I was under the assumption, because they told me, that as soon as there was an opening, I could work over there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus bringing me to my problem. I'm sitting in class and I hear some classmates talking about starting to work at Target. I listen in and notice they are filling out an internship application for the state it's in (We're on the border of 2 states). I'm thinking, 'Oh fucking really? They tell me there's no openings, I have no idea when I can start shadowing, and they're taking applications!?' What the fuck!? Granted, my hours aren't the greatest, because I have awkward class hours that don't mesh well with a daytime pharmacy, but at least they could have told me that, instead of keeping my hopes dragging along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have finally reached that point at work where I've realized that I'm too old to work at Target doing basic things. I'm damn good at them, but I'm the only college-aged person at the front end. Every other cashier is still in high school or elderly. I literally have no one to relate to. I'm starting to feel ridiculous cashiering because I feel I'm wasting my potential. My old store was different because there weren't as many places to work so the Target in town was 'the' place to work. A vast majority of the whole store was college-aged people. They're weren't as many minors, I would say at most 20% of the cashiers. Even then, I still hated cashiering because, and I'm not trying to come off as cocky, but I'm above that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went and applied at a different pharmacy as an assistant aka tech, and I got the job. Someone obviously thinks I'm good enough to work for them and I'm excited to start. So I changed my availability at Target to make sure the pharmacy has priority. Yes, I'm still gonna work there for now. I still love Target as a whole, but there are areas for improvement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing is that if my classmates get the job in the pharmacy at the store I work at, they'll get to see me doing a piddly job. I don't much care what they think of me, it's just that I have a problem with someone coming into a business fresh and is already higher up on the chain. Especially when I have almost 5 YEARS of experience with the company. I should have preference when it comes to moving into the pharmacy. After all, it would take less to train me because I already know how the store operates, how the computer system works, how to work with the type of guests that we get, etc. It's gonna take a lot more to train a new person in than it is to move a current employee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was willing to continue my employment with Target because I wanted to work in this pharmacy. It was the only reason I stayed at my old store. I was ready to quit back in June. I still want to work for Target, but I don't know if I can without working in the pharmacy now, or maybe way down the line as a pharmacist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I applied at the different pharmacy because I was sick of waiting. They told me that I could shadow without a mention of when. It has been 3+ weeks since I had originally asked. No one has said a word to me about it since, and they waited too long. So now I will be an asset to another pharmacy and I'm sorry to say that they won't get the chance to see how great I could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see how it goes from here, but I don't know how long I can hold out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-127128753596723179?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/127128753596723179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=127128753596723179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/127128753596723179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/127128753596723179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-may-be-pissed-off.html' title='I May Be Pissed Off'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-7375200374461217996</id><published>2007-09-24T13:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T13:21:17.847-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So Boring</title><content type='html'>I apologize for not being around much, but it's because there isn't much happening in the store. It's literally dead for most of the day, nowhere NEAR what it was like at my old store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even at Guest Service people aren't that bitchy. The only things are returns from wedding/baby showers which are a complete disaster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, my first guest yesterday was a Canadian, and it made me glad that I don't see them often. She (along with her fanny pack, like usual) asked what the exchange rate was. I tell her it was 1.18 and she asks what that means. Ok, you fucking retard, you are exchanging money, YOU should know. Well of course she goes for her Canadian cash and so I tell her that we don't exchange money, but we take it at the registers. Apparently they're still too fucking retarded to exchange their money before they come down. She then asks how much she would get for $1 Canadian. I tell her, using simple math, it's 88 cents. Insert bitchy Canadian tirade yet again here. She yells at me because their money is "worth more" than ours now. My favorite part is being civil yet mean back when I get rude people. I say, "That's the rate our bank set." She asks if we take Visa or Interac(sp?) (their debit system) and I tell her we do take Visa and that some Interac cards work and some don't, and we don't know unless we try them. She starts blabbing about how she's just going to use her Visa because ... actually I stopped listening. Oh, and I forgot she was not even close to the counter when any of this conversation took place, which is normal for Canadians. Stand at least 5 feet away and just yell. Must be another thing they teach in Canada in the 'How to be completely oblivious to the world around you' program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still don't understand how so many canadians can come down during the week to shop so much. Does everyone have jobs? Or school? I bet the days they are down here is when they teach them how to be polite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-7375200374461217996?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/7375200374461217996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=7375200374461217996' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7375200374461217996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7375200374461217996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/09/so-boring.html' title='So Boring'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-7575770644911030833</id><published>2007-08-29T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:01:53.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favorites!</title><content type='html'>So it's been kinda quiet at the store, and I don't really work all that much, so there isn't much to report now. This past weekend I worked at Guest Service and other than the register, they do things SO differently at the store. I kinda feel alienated because it's either high school kids or way older people working up front. I hope it gets better. I need some damn friends here. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyways, I'm bored out of my mind and so I decided to do a Favorite Retail Comic thing. As always, they can be found at seattlepi.nwsource.com/fun/retail.asp if you want to see the daily ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtX_DjqjtwI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ePRNo3M-q1U/s1600-h/Retail103.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104266189272758018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtX_DjqjtwI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ePRNo3M-q1U/s400/Retail103.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've been in this situation FAR too many times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtX_kDqjtxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/jrvJ44FarWk/s1600-h/Retail106.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104266747618506514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtX_kDqjtxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/jrvJ44FarWk/s400/Retail106.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love when people want money back for gas and whatnot. I had to pay for gas to come in and work that I pay for, so why should you get your gas paid for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYCjjqjt1I/AAAAAAAAABE/1IhnNMBDCKs/s1600-h/Retail2.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104270037563455314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYCjjqjt1I/AAAAAAAAABE/1IhnNMBDCKs/s400/Retail2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ask ANYONE in retail, this has happened to them.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYCAjqjt0I/AAAAAAAAAA8/ED9ODf73ItE/s1600-h/Retail39.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104269436268033858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYCAjqjt0I/AAAAAAAAAA8/ED9ODf73ItE/s400/Retail39.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We do have nicknames for all of our "fun" customers.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYCxzqjt2I/AAAAAAAAABM/rp_au3M2lYc/s1600-h/Retail4.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104270282376591202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYCxzqjt2I/AAAAAAAAABM/rp_au3M2lYc/s400/Retail4.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The best is when they are standing right next to where it goes, and yet put it somewhere else.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYDuzqjt3I/AAAAAAAAABU/Lzgm-m5xHlI/s1600-h/Retail54.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104271330348611442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYDuzqjt3I/AAAAAAAAABU/Lzgm-m5xHlI/s400/Retail54.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Story of my old store. Yee-ikes. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYEVzqjt4I/AAAAAAAAABc/kkkMdsKVzyo/s1600-h/Retail63.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104272000363509634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYEVzqjt4I/AAAAAAAAABc/kkkMdsKVzyo/s400/Retail63.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do they want us to cut out the pictures of stuff we don't have at the moment?&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYFbjqjt5I/AAAAAAAAABk/g88rEoHNBfk/s1600-h/Retail76.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104273198659385234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYFbjqjt5I/AAAAAAAAABk/g88rEoHNBfk/s400/Retail76.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sadly, I've done this before...&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYF4Dqjt6I/AAAAAAAAABs/T3kvVSqde98/s1600-h/Retail80.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104273688285656994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYF4Dqjt6I/AAAAAAAAABs/T3kvVSqde98/s400/Retail80.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Especially with "Is there anything wrong with it?" I could write biographies!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYGWzqjt7I/AAAAAAAAAB0/da09xOK29v8/s1600-h/Retail85.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104274216566634418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYGWzqjt7I/AAAAAAAAAB0/da09xOK29v8/s400/Retail85.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sad thing is, I've actually helped someone who finally left 40 minutes after the store closed.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYGwTqjt8I/AAAAAAAAAB8/Rd325xNrQXE/s1600-h/Retail87.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104274654653298626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYGwTqjt8I/AAAAAAAAAB8/Rd325xNrQXE/s400/Retail87.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Say it with me now: Canadians!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYHgjqjt9I/AAAAAAAAACE/VEZC71eRSMs/s1600-h/Retail90.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104275483581986770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYHgjqjt9I/AAAAAAAAACE/VEZC71eRSMs/s400/Retail90.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;How many times have I heard this only to see the same person back in the store again? It's really funny if I'm the one helping them AGAIN.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYH_jqjt-I/AAAAAAAAACM/_xbGgO3brO8/s1600-h/Retail91.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104276016157931490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtYH_jqjt-I/AAAAAAAAACM/_xbGgO3brO8/s400/Retail91.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've had someone yell, "HEY YOU!" as I was walking by. I'll have you know, I kept on walking. Sorry, but that is not a way to get someone's attention.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-7575770644911030833?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/7575770644911030833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=7575770644911030833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7575770644911030833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7575770644911030833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-favorites.html' title='My Favorites!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RtX_DjqjtwI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ePRNo3M-q1U/s72-c/Retail103.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-9113251658316155482</id><published>2007-08-23T05:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:01:53.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>250th Post!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/Rs2AYzqjtvI/AAAAAAAAAAU/eKLks_gTebs/s1600-h/Retail107.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101875116554565362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/Rs2AYzqjtvI/AAAAAAAAAAU/eKLks_gTebs/s400/Retail107.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And it's just a short post. I just had to post the Retail comic for the day. How appropriate. ;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Enjoy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-9113251658316155482?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/9113251658316155482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=9113251658316155482' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/9113251658316155482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/9113251658316155482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/08/250th-post.html' title='250th Post!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/Rs2AYzqjtvI/AAAAAAAAAAU/eKLks_gTebs/s72-c/Retail107.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-2478947327973353186</id><published>2007-08-20T17:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T17:37:16.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My First 3 Days</title><content type='html'>It was fine. The lanes are completely different from my old store and I really have no idea how they cashier effectively because it seemed like I was stumbling all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They just had me cashier my first 3 shifts although I did give a few breaks in the photo lab. On Friday, I'll ask to work in Guest Service because next week I have my shifts up there and I don't want to royally screw up. They do things so differently at the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad I have 2 other people that transferred down that worked at my old store. Every time we see each other we comment on how weird the store is. I only see a little bit of them though because they are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;salesfloor&lt;/span&gt; and I'm stuck up at the front. Oh well, I love Guest Service, so I hope I can be as awesome as I was at my old store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people think I'm "new" new, so I have to keep telling them I'm a transfer. I swear, some people think I'm really dumb. There is not that much to do cashiering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here's the funny/scary story of the weekend: Let me just say to begin with that my old store is ~75 miles away from my new store, and it's not exactly on a direct path to each other. So here I am cashiering away and I recognize this one guest from my old store. Well she says, "Are you stalking me?" I just laugh and say no. She says, "Don't you work in (my old town)?" And I explain that I transferred here to finish my schooling. She goes on, "Weren't you the behind the desk person?" and points to Guest Service. I say yep and we all had a good laugh. But honestly, how weird is that? To be recognized miles away from where you normally work. I hope I stood out as a nice person and not an asshole, but either one is possible. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't have any guest stories yet because it's just cashiering and most of the fun stories involve me at the service desk, so don't bail on me! I'm sure there will be plenty of fun and adventure once I get back to my beloved department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-2478947327973353186?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/2478947327973353186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=2478947327973353186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2478947327973353186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2478947327973353186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-first-3-days.html' title='My First 3 Days'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-4562942332203559577</id><published>2007-08-17T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T09:04:48.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting Today!</title><content type='html'>As you all can assume from the title and previous posts, I start at my new store today. This is going to be really weird because it's different, but not, if that makes any sense. Two other people from my old store are transferring to my new one, so I will at least see two familiar faces. I don't know if anyone can relate, but being in the same environment makes me feel like I should know everyone because I did know everyone at my old store. The job is still the same (I hope they don't have me cashier today...) but the people are different. Just plain weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And again, I have no idea what they are going to do with me today. I don't have an actual department because I think they just want to see how I work at first. They'll have to have someone with me at Guest Service so I know how to handle the different ways they interpret the various policies. The basic guideline is the same, but each store interprets them differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new store is SO much smaller too, which will be nice. I was used to having 6 different registers at Guest Service, and the new store only has 3. Old store had carts to throw returns in, new one has bins. I hate bins. I'm also wondering how they handle defectives because we had the backroom (more like logistics or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;chargeback&lt;/span&gt; people or I actually have no idea) package them up. Some stores do EVERYTHING up at Guest Service, so I guess I'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I actually have to wear red and khaki again. It was nice having a month off, but I need some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dinero&lt;/span&gt;. I would love a paycheck again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back to tell y'all all about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-4562942332203559577?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/4562942332203559577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=4562942332203559577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/4562942332203559577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/4562942332203559577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/08/starting-today.html' title='Starting Today!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-19683374132115783</id><published>2007-08-08T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T20:21:02.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Store!</title><content type='html'>I stopped by my new store today and I'm afraid to say this, but I'm actually excited to start! The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;LODs&lt;/span&gt; were so nice and you could tell that everyone there has lots of fun. It reminds me of how my old store used to be WAY back in the day. My new store was staffed adequately and not overworked. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;LOD&lt;/span&gt; showed me around the TM area and he told me that they were never there late. I've heard they are barely there past 10:15pm! That would be SUCH a refreshing change from my old store where it was 11pm at the earliest. Especially now that school is going to start again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HOPE I get to be in Guest Service mostly because, as you all know, that's what I love to do. They didn't really put me in an area for my first few shifts, so I think they are just going to see where I'm at. You better believe I'm gonna fight for GS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, in just over a week I will start there, so I hope things go well. I'll keep you posted!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-19683374132115783?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/19683374132115783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=19683374132115783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/19683374132115783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/19683374132115783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/08/new-store.html' title='New Store!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-4755076017956160990</id><published>2007-08-01T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T15:52:56.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More...</title><content type='html'>Well today is the day that (supposedly) the new (no receipt return) exception went into place. Where if you don't have your receipt (and we can't look it up by check, credit/debit/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;giftcard&lt;/span&gt;) and the item is over $20, you are pretty much SOL. It should be fun to see when I get to my new store. The only plus side for both us and the guests is that there are no more same department exchanges for things under $20, they just get a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;giftcard&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to mention how on my last day, no one really cared that I was leaving, or more like, no one showed it really. My peers did, but you would think that my supervisors and managers would do something after working there for almost 5 years. I guess I don't know what I was expecting, a little party would have been cool or at least a card, but no. My supervisors just told me that they would miss me and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;LOD&lt;/span&gt; on my last night wished me luck with everything. Am I just a little conceded here to think I should have got a going away card? It's been done with other people. I just don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been hearing nothing but bad things about my old store. It's getting even busier with lower hours. They even broke the 11pm policy that they hyped up saying the store would get in trouble if any TM left later than 11pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to start at my new store, but I don't want to be 'that' person. I'm sure you all know of an instance where a person comes from somewhere else and everything they say begins with, "Well, at MY store, we do things this way." I've gotten so used to how my store runs, that I might (but hope I don't) step on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;anyone's&lt;/span&gt; toes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for further proof that it's just not us (me and other co-workers) that dislike (is this the first time I used this term? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;) Canadians. I was at the liquor store and there was a Canadian in front of me and behind me in line and they were talking to each other over me. Well another lane opened up so the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;canuck&lt;/span&gt; behind me went to a different lane. When the guy was done checking out the first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;canuck&lt;/span&gt;, he was trying to make small talk and asked me, "Are you with them?" I couldn't help but answer with a stern "No." It was like 'Don't insult me' tone. Then he says, "Oh, are you Canadian?" By then I just said, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Noooooo&lt;/span&gt;." (Apparently this guy doesn't work too often because I can tell if they are Canadian by just looking at them. Their mannerisms are so obvious.) After I told him I wasn't Canadian he says, "Good." I just laugh at tell him that we get a lot of them where I work and they are very rude and annoying. He had that look where I could tell he was thinking 'Thank god I'm not the only one!' and I was thinking the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well for now, I'm moving to a new city and it shall be interesting to say the least. I'll be back...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-4755076017956160990?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/4755076017956160990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=4755076017956160990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/4755076017956160990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/4755076017956160990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/08/more.html' title='More...'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-1456963926740628198</id><published>2007-07-27T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:01:53.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RqoopoJYheI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ovn6jHfQSzs/s1600-h/Retail105.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091927024312288738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RqoopoJYheI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ovn6jHfQSzs/s400/Retail105.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, my last day at my old store wasn't anything impressive, I didn't get to yell or scream at anyone. It was just really busy. I was a little short with some people who just weren't getting it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This one woman comes up and wants a temporary Target card. All my faithful readers know we can't do this. She starts getting testy with me, and off I go. I say, "No ma'am, we aren't able to access your account from our computers. It is for your security." She kinda backs off but finds her account number and asks if she can use that to pay for things. I say, "I'm sorry, but we need the actual card in-store in order to charge it." She ended up just walking away. I love it though when some people take it farther by saying so-and-so business does it and that's when I can say 'We are not (that store), this is Target. Do you want every single employee in the nation to have access to your account?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then I get a call from some asshole who was just grilling me and taking it out on me when he wasn't getting his way. So he wants to buy a grill for his relatives, but they live in another city. He was wondering if he bought it at our store, if they could keep it at his relatives local store. No. Then he was wondering if he could call the other store, pay for it over the phone, and keep it at that store. No. So as he's arguing with me, he says, "Then why should I shop there? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-mart will do what I want. Do you want me to go there?" I hate when people say this because they think I actually care. I just say, "That's your decision." Well then he says, "Well, I guess I'll come in and see if there is anything I like there, and we'll work something out." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, bye! And of course I'm looking forward to dealing with him when he comes into the store. But like most people, he's actually completely nice when he's in the store and we find a solution that works.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It still doesn't feel like I'm done at that store, and I think it's just because I'm not in my new city and store yet. That's when it will sink in. But I still get pissed off at my old store. Things are getting even worse and it will be a nightmare this holiday season. The good employees that have been there a long time are quitting or getting close.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One cashier who was always a breaker because she knew all the Front End departments so she could give them breaks put in her two weeks because it finally all added up. The final straw was that she was sick with strep throat and called in sick 2 shifts in a row. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;GSTL&lt;/span&gt; just hung up on her because they were so short-staffed but that wasn't her fault. So the next time she worked, after she put in her 2 weeks, another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;GSTL&lt;/span&gt; went up to her and said, "How dare you make a rash decision like this!" And she just explained that it was a bunch of things and that she was starting to hate coming into work. But honestly, how dare the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;GSTL&lt;/span&gt; treat her that way. But that's my store for you. Completely horrible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The comic at the top is how I feel about my old store, and hope to god that it's different at my new one. The comic is called Retail and daily comics can be found at seattlepi.nwsource.com/fun/retail.asp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-1456963926740628198?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/1456963926740628198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=1456963926740628198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/1456963926740628198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/1456963926740628198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/07/last-day.html' title='Last Day'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/RqoopoJYheI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ovn6jHfQSzs/s72-c/Retail105.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-768016498347122715</id><published>2007-07-18T10:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T11:29:50.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back!</title><content type='html'>And actually I've been back since Sunday, but you all know how well my track record is with posting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to: TODAY IS MY LAST DAY AT THE HELLHOLE! But don't worry, I'm transferring to a different hellhole in a different city. My first shift there is in less than a month, and I'm sure it will be quite the experience. Now it will be my turn to be the 'but my old store did it this way' know-it-all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So because it is my last day, I hope I get a rude ass guest (won't be too difficult) so I can be totally rude to them. But knowing my luck, every guest will walk in with flowers and chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be tough. I was already getting a little emotional last night, and it's weird because of all the bitching I do. It's not the job (and guests) that I'm going to miss, it's the people, well most of them anyway. It's funny (sad? pathetic?) that almost all of my friends do or have worked at Target, but I wouldn't have it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my last 2 shifts have been kinda lackluster. Just more of the same. People who don't have their receipt and somehow it's my fault. People who do have their receipt, but it's hidden within millions of others, and take 5 years to find it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this one guy who was trying to return a defective saw. All he does is hand me a piece of paper with the Refund Authorization number on it and tells me I need to call it to do his return. He says he was in on Saturday and they gave him the Target Guest Relations number because he didn't have the box and no longer carried it in our store. I keep trying to ask him what they told him in store on Saturday and what I was supposed to do by calling Refund Authorization. He wouldn't budge. I didn't even know if he wanted to return it, he just kept saying to call them. So I do and give them the case number and did a no-receipt return. I still don't know what the fucking situation was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I will probably be back to tell you about my last day, so until later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-768016498347122715?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/768016498347122715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=768016498347122715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/768016498347122715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/768016498347122715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/07/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-7558543828887776299</id><published>2007-07-06T03:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T03:38:34.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Going on Vacation!</title><content type='html'>I'll be back after the 15th! I'm glad to say, I'll be far away from the Canadian border, so it's already going to be great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I only have 3 more shifts at my store! See ya when I get back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-7558543828887776299?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/7558543828887776299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=7558543828887776299' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7558543828887776299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7558543828887776299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/07/going-on-vacation.html' title='Going on Vacation!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-962322100853233583</id><published>2007-07-04T11:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T11:42:58.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I missing something?</title><content type='html'>I mean, really? How hard is it to anticipate a busy week when you have last year to go from? Canada Day + 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July = Busy fucking WEEK! Not hour, not day, WEEK. It's been so bad that people are calling in 'sick'. Sick of being overworked is more like it. This leads to even more stress on the people that are actually working, which in turn leads to more people calling in 'sick'. Hey morons! Schedule more people and you won't have this problem! I don't care about 'not having enough hours', it's bullshit. You and I both know that it is going to be crazy busy every single Canadian holiday because of the exchange rate. (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sidenote&lt;/span&gt;: I pray for the day for the exchange to go back to ~65 cents.) It's only going to get worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do they teach at this Target Business College? How to lie, cheat, and steal so that you get your bonus? Because they sure as fuck don't teach how to manage a store effectively. We've had tons of complaints about being understaffed, and they have the nerve to yell at us when we get ONE complaint about not bagging something correctly. Give me a fucking break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if Target HQ sees this, which who knows they could, what the hell are you thinking? Announcing visits? Are you that dumb? Guess what we hear? That we have a visit, so the store needs to be perfect. Doesn't this defeat the purpose of a visit? And about the unannounced visits... When you visit one store in the area, they call every other store near them to tell them to expect a visit. I would LOVE for you to come to our store when the whole &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;salesfloor&lt;/span&gt; team is on the registers because they scheduled 7 cashiers on a Saturday at a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;SuperTarget&lt;/span&gt;. Get over yourselves, and give us more hours. You want more money? You have to spend it to make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we're the ones who have to deal with the guests. We get the bitching and the blame for everything. So don't be surprised when you get 5 cashier call-ins which leaves 3 closing cashiers, and expect people to come in. It's not going to happen. I'm not going into work to be overworked and stressed out on my day off because you can't make a schedule. I'm not paying for your mistake. You want to dig yourself in a hole, fine, but don't expect me to pick up a shovel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-962322100853233583?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/962322100853233583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=962322100853233583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/962322100853233583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/962322100853233583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/07/am-i-missing-something.html' title='Am I missing something?'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-2913914775965570099</id><published>2007-07-02T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T15:18:47.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So Ready To Be Done</title><content type='html'>I can't take it anymore. We are continually short-staffed and it's getting pathetic. Today was as busy as a Saturday, but we were only staffed for a regular Monday. They knew it would be busy. Like every other fucking first Monday of the month, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dumbass&lt;/span&gt; Canadians have it off, and so they come down here. But this time, it is a double holiday with us having the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; this week. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Braindead&lt;/span&gt; monkeys do the scheduling apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People weren't generally that bad today, there was just a bunch of them. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;could've&lt;/span&gt; easily used another person, and I pressed that back-up button like it was my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in better news, I'll be done at my store on the 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;! Then I'm going to be moving and starting anew at a different store in the new city. From what I hear, the store I'm moving to is always dead, which will be quite the contrast from the one I'm currently at.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-2913914775965570099?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/2913914775965570099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=2913914775965570099' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2913914775965570099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2913914775965570099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/07/so-ready-to-be-done.html' title='So Ready To Be Done'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-1220601305429155801</id><published>2007-06-15T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T06:31:54.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hydrophobic/Idiotiphilic</title><content type='html'>How stupid are some people? Well, I could venture a guess, but nothing ceases to amaze me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point, when cashiering, being a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SuperTarget&lt;/span&gt; with groceries, the belt gets wet. All it ever is on the belt is just water, unless we clean it. Yesterday is when I've had the most people bitch about having water on the belt. It's like it's sulfuric acid or something. When cold things warm up, condensation forms on the product which is transferred to everything around it, and it's what makes my belt wet. But there people are, putting all their shit around the wetness, or waiting until the belt rolls around. Now when it's busy, I don't have time to wait. It's just water. It won't ruin anything. I hate when I hear, "I don't want to put this on the belt, it's too dirty." Um no, there isn't a fucking mud pit on the belt. And yesterday some bitch asked, "Is this bleach on the belt?" Yep, I love cleaning with bleach with my bare hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had enough of the short-staffing at my store. My store is ran by fucking morons. For a majority of the day, we only had 6 cashiers. Plus we barely had enough people on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;salesfloor&lt;/span&gt; to come up and help us. All the guests were freaking out on us, but if we freaked out on our supervisors, they brush us off. I was watching during the head cashier lunch and we had the biggest back-up that I've ever seen, so here I am screaming into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;walkie&lt;/span&gt; for people to come up and directing guests to shorter lines. This one couple told me, "You need to open more lanes." Instead of using one of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;smartass&lt;/span&gt; comments, I just walked away from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not gonna stop being an asshole until there's decent coverage. My store has resorted to letting everyone go at 11 because the morale is so low. We've had so many people quit and I'm about to join them. It's sad that we haven't been out before 11 in a long time. If we did stay to finish each night, we'd be there long past midnight. All they say is 'we have no hours' and yet, they can schedule pointless meetings and hire even more people. The newbies aren't even making it to 6 months. They cut hours so the execs can get their bonuses. I hope they choke on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 3 of 7 here I come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-1220601305429155801?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/1220601305429155801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=1220601305429155801' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/1220601305429155801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/1220601305429155801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/06/hydophobicidiotiphilic.html' title='Hydrophobic/Idiotiphilic'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-6634316485453234751</id><published>2007-06-12T16:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T17:20:05.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On My Mind</title><content type='html'>Right now I'm just gonna go over a few Target things on my mind, and let you know my feelings about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, the much debated No Receipt Exchange policy. Like I've previously stated, it's at $40. Anything under $40 without a receipt (and not being able to look one up) has to be exchanged for one item in the same department for equal or greater value. Anything above $40, you are shit outta luck.&lt;br /&gt;Then in August, that $40 gets chopped down to $20 AND you can't return off the gift registries. But everything under the $20 would just be put on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;giftcard&lt;/span&gt;, so no more same department exchanges. We are going to get totally bitched out. No one gives gift receipts because that would be too easy.&lt;br /&gt;And now I hear a rumor that in October, we'll actually follow the posted policy. That is "A receipt dated within 90 days is REQUIRED for all returns and exchanges." No receipt = no return. Can you imagine how people are going to react to this!? If we thought people were rude assholes before, I don't want to see how they act after this.&lt;br /&gt;But I can understand where Target is coming from. I'm assuming they are tired of all the bitching too. Allow 2 exceptions, people bitch. Some bitch that it should be written, some bitch about the same department exchanges, and some bitch about receipts. I can see them getting a 'Fuck It!' mentality and finally deciding to go by the actual posted policy. That way, people are only bitching about one thing. Part of me wants to stick it out, just to see people's reactions. But in the end, it's about personal responsibility. You HAVE to be responsible for yourself. This would also stop return fraud in it's tracks. Don't bitch at me for this, you can blame the people that have worked over the system and made Target do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now to something different...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I trained some cashiers on how to do Guest Service, and they had 2 hours to actually work up there. That's not enough, but of course they scheduled them for shifts at Guest Service next week. They only know how to do stuff, but not the maintenance of Guest Service because we simply didn't have time. So next Saturday, a "new" person opens, a "new" person is mid, and I close. Guest Service is going to be a fucking mess. Saturday is one of our busiest days and we have the "new" people up there. God I hate my store. They just need more training! Like actually working a shift WITH someone who works up there, not just throwing them over there. If there is a big problem on that Saturday, I will go and complain. And they'll try to push it on me saying it was a problem with my training (like they always do) but it's because THEY DIDN'T GET ENOUGH TIME UP THERE! There is going to be NO ONE up there for them to ask! Then can ask the head cashier, but it's a Saturday and they will be busy too. It will be a stressful day to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's all I have for now. Until next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-6634316485453234751?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/6634316485453234751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=6634316485453234751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/6634316485453234751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/6634316485453234751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/06/on-my-mind.html' title='On My Mind'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-7613268692260740117</id><published>2007-06-11T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T08:43:33.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Don't Get Snotty With Me!"</title><content type='html'>So of course this weekend was not fun. More short-staffing, more overworking, and more of being never good enough. And then there's the guests!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I cashiered and like always, I hated it. People are so rude and stupid. For example, some woman gave me a coupon and when I was done scanning her stuff I used her coupon and set it to the side. She wasn't paying attention during the whole thing, until I tell her the total. She asks if I got the coupon. Yep. "Are you sure?" Unless the piece of paper with a fucking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;barcode&lt;/span&gt; on it isn't a coupon, then yes. So she gets her receipt, and still thinking I'm lying, checks to see that the coupon was on the receipt. Too bad the coupon stealing conspiracy starts NEXT week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I was up at Guest Service and boy it was fun... Not really. More rude people as always. One woman comes and throws her bag on the counter and says she wants to do a return, then stares at us. So my co-worker asks if she has the receipt. The woman yells, "Don't get snotty with me!" My co-worker said she wasn't being snotty, and she wasn't, but the woman thought she was attacking her about a receipt. Because we have nothing better to do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this Canadian (and you thought there wouldn't be a story about them this weekend) comes up and wants to know how much credit is available on her Target card. We can't tell, and I tell her this. She gets overly dramatic and asks me, "So you're telling me that I can't check the balance of my Target credit card at a Target store." I again tell her that we don't have access to her account information due to the privacy and security of card members. (Do you really want EVERY Target employee in the nation to have access to your account info? Didn't think so) I also tell her that she can call the number on the back of the card to find out and she can use our phone to call them, and to press 9 before the number. Every question thereafter told me she wasn't listening to a word I said. She asks, "Do you have a phone I could use?" Duh. "What number do I call?" You're an idiot. "Do I have to press anything before I dial?" Why do you even bother getting out of bed in the morning? Of course after she found out she was really nice to supposedly make up for her bitchiness. That's when I give her my 'fuck you' smile and add her to the 'Punch in the Face' list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we're getting a transfer... A Guest Service transfer. Now because I'm very picky about this area, I hate getting transfers because they think they know everything when they just don't. Well, apparently, she told them that in her old store she ONLY works Guest Service, but no way in hell is that going to happen here. First off, she would suck up all the hours. Secondly, I've been barking up that tree my entire time there. It's not going to happen, and it better not, or I'm going on the warpath. We shall see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have 2 days off, and then I start my string of 7 days in a fucking row. I might as well go on the warpath now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-7613268692260740117?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/7613268692260740117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=7613268692260740117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7613268692260740117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7613268692260740117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/06/dont-get-snotty-with-me.html' title='&quot;Don&apos;t Get Snotty With Me!&quot;'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-7921602358077658970</id><published>2007-06-07T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T10:25:49.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And the Bitching Continues</title><content type='html'>I'm so ready to leave my store. I swear they don't know how to run a business. They are short-staffing us so badly, so our store gets under hours so the execs can get their bonuses. How nice. If I weren't transferring, I would quit. It's not acceptable anymore. I can't go into work without being overly stressed out because I can't handle the amount of work piled on to us. It's stopped being fun. The only thing most people talk about now is how much it sucks. At the beginning, I had great days at work with the occasional bad day. Now it's the other way around. It's almost always a bad day with the occasional good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you add the asshole guests. I swear, almost everyone yesterday was rude. And it wasn't just me that noticed it, it was all parts of the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after my lunch there was this gallon of milk on the counter at Guest Service and they told me it was going to be exchanged. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, whatever. Well, this older couple come up and she's already telling me that she's up there to exchange the milk for a different brand because that was the second one that spoiled before the expiration date. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, whatever. I ask for the receipt and she acts like I'm asking for her first born. She doesn't have it. So I ask how she paid for it, and try her credit card and check. No go. She then goes into this tirade about how the person she talked to said we didn't need the receipt, but to just bring in the item. We can do that, but we would have to process it as a no receipt and you're only allowed 2 of those per year, but if you're going to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pissy&lt;/span&gt; for me trying to help you, then we can waste one. Then her husband goes into a rant about how we should all know the same things and shouldn't have to do this. He then looks at my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nametag&lt;/span&gt;, says, "(My name), huh?" and walks over and grabs a comment card. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; fuck you. I didn't do anything wrong here. So I do the exchange and off they go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's not all folks! Shortly after that this woman comes up with a basketful of groceries and she wants to pay her Target card bill with one check. We can't. Each one has to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt;. Well she starts bitching about how she only has one check left. Oh, since you said that, the button magically appeared! No. She asks if she can write the check for over. No. "Even if it's just $5?" That still classifies as OVER, so no. "Well if I get a late charge, I will be pissed!" Not my problem. It's not Target's or my fault that you only had one check and you decided to but groceries. You made that call, not me. If she was actually thinking (which would've required a miracle), she could have put her groceries on her card, and paid the whole thing, but I wasn't about to help her out. And she was one of those people who want you to argue with them, and usually I just ignore them, but I finally just told her that I don't set the policies or how the system operates. She was quick to leave after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have 2 days off, although I could use about 2 weeks off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-7921602358077658970?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/7921602358077658970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=7921602358077658970' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7921602358077658970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7921602358077658970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/06/and-bitching-continues.html' title='And the Bitching Continues'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-8292888752878826268</id><published>2007-05-23T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T09:38:37.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burnt Out</title><content type='html'>Yep, that's me. After a shitty weekend full of rude selfish Canadians, I'm just sick of even *thinking* about being at the store. And it certainly doesn't help that I'm at the end of my 6 day stretch. Today will be day 6 and then I have a whopping 2 days off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was dead, compared to this weekend, and I wasn't about to complain. Plus, I was at Guest Service so I could just stand there. There wasn't really any "bad" guests, but being burnt out, I'd rather not help anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But someone did on of my pet peeves yesterday. I absolutely HATE when someone comes up to do a return and while I do it, they turn around and face the other way. So here I am, talking to your fucking back while I do your return. Show some fucking respect! I should honestly just stop with their return and move to the next person, and if they have anything to say, I'll just say, "Oh, I thought you weren't ready to return yet." But then my ass would get chewed by the 'guest' but I think it would be worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also hate when people are on their fucking cell phones when I'm trying to talk to them. I've either moved to the next person, or I just stand there and stare at them until they hang up. That's so disrespectful. It also happened when this one guest was talking to someone that was actually in the store and I was trying to talk to her, but to no avail. I was getting sick of trying to get her attention, so I cashed her out and left her cash right there on the counter and moved on to the next person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope tonight is just as dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-8292888752878826268?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/8292888752878826268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=8292888752878826268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/8292888752878826268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/8292888752878826268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/05/burnt-out.html' title='Burnt Out'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-5023808622450443524</id><published>2007-05-19T22:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T23:07:34.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Talk To Me</title><content type='html'>I feel like shit. There's only so much you can take of being overworked and being treated like shit from people. What don't people understand? I'm a human too and yet I'm treated like garbage. I will never understand how someone can be so rude and hurtful towards someone they don't even know. And I know you're gonna turn my question back on me, but I don't act even 1/4 as rude to me as they do to me. It's just so unfair because customers know we can't defend ourselves. The remainder of my days at my store will be to change that. I don't care anymore. My self worth is more important than a stupid job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More rude ass Canadians of fucking course. They are a bunch of fucking lazy pigs. I hate them. For example, one said to one of my co-workers who was working with me at Guest Service, "Can we get someone up here with a brain?" If they would have said that to me I honestly would have told them to fuck off and leave the store. How could you say that to someone? Heartless bastards. Castrate Canada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then one woman bitched us out and told us that Target doesn't support the troops. Please. Join the current &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;millennium&lt;/span&gt; and realize that it was never true. Same thing about Target being a French company. Sorry, but unless Minneapolis, MN has been taken over by France, I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were there until 12:15, a full 2 hours and 15 minutes after close picking up after these slobs. I can't remember a time when it was so bad. I wasn't even done with my Guest Service shit until 11:45 because the head cashier made me take down the signs for the front lanes, plus I still had to do defectives and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;adboards&lt;/span&gt;. I hate my fucking store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to make things better, I cashier 12-5:30 later today. Great. I swear if one of those snotty fuckers cops a '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tude&lt;/span&gt; with me, I will tell them off. I'm so close to quitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-5023808622450443524?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/5023808622450443524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=5023808622450443524' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/5023808622450443524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/5023808622450443524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/05/dont-talk-to-me.html' title='Don&apos;t Talk To Me'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-7344972291111305634</id><published>2007-05-19T11:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T12:23:05.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Long" Weekend</title><content type='html'>You know it's going to be bad when the radio DJs are complaining about Canadians. I heard them talking about how it's a "long weekend" for the Canadians because they have Monday off for Victoria Day. The radio host says, "Oh great." I burst out laughing because I was thinking the same thing. What's even funnier is when we were in Canada a few years back, we heard on the radio an explanation of a 'long weekend.' It went something like this:  "...on the long weekend. What's a long weekend? It's a weekend with an extra day." Haha! Are you serious!? Like do people not know this so they have to put something on the radio to tell people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am working a 6 day stretch and it just so happens to include this long weekend. Great. Friday was my first day in this string and it was horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I work 9:30-6 as a breaker and my first break was at Food Ave at 9:30. So I go over there and the person who was over there had cut themselves with the scissors so they had to go fill out an accident report. It took forever. She didn't get back until 10:30, and so breaks were LATE. But that didn't stop Karen from coming over and being a bitch. She comes over at about 10:15 and the first thing out of her mouth is, "Were you late today?" No. "Wasn't this your first break?" Yes, but she had to fill out a accident report. Honestly quit being a bitch. Was that the most appropriate thing to say to me first? The girl even told her she'd be filling it out. So that was just the beginning of my day. During this whole thing I had to make breakfast, something which I wasn't trained. The recipe book doesn't tell us how to microwave everything or for how long and so it was basically a guessing game. So I have this order of bacon, toast, sausage, and English muffin from 2 team members. I have no fucking clue and so I'm just guessing as I go. Well these 2 people with which I work with were being complete bitches. They were saying, "Where is she?" and, "Is there someone here who knows what they're doing?" Could you be a little more rude?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was a Canadian explosion. Great. This weekend is going to suck. And of course most of them were rude. For example:&lt;br /&gt;- One asks what the exchange rate is. I tell him that it's 1.18. He starts bitching that on the stock exchange it's 1.11. Before I could say anything, his wife yells at him saying, "I don't care what the exchange is, I'm here to shop." I laughed and figured I didn't need to go further.&lt;br /&gt;- One Canadian is using their debit card and the person behind them has started writing a check. So he asks me if we still accept checks. "Yes" I tell him. "Well they wouldn't allow that in Canada!" and leaves. Ok jackass, good for you.&lt;br /&gt;- My favorite one of the day didn't even happen to me. Chelsey was helping a Canadian sign up for a Target card and the canuck didn't want to give her social 'insurance' number. Fine, whatever. So Chelsey tells her that she would be unable to sign up for the card and wouldn't save the 10%. She starts bitching how she doesn't give out her social because she doesn't want her identity stolen. Chelsey tells her that we use it for almost everything we do, but the canuck still wanted to argue with her. She says, "I don't see why you can't just use my ID." And since Chelsey already told her she just shrugged and gave a 'I already told you look.' And the bitch yelled at her asking if she heard her, to which Chelsey just said yep. And this started a rant about how her social is precious to her and she doesn't give it out and this is why WE have a problem with identity theft in our country. My question is, wouldn't it be easier to steal your identity if they only needed your ID? Your social confirms who you are, but what the fuck ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because my store is ran by total dumbfucks, they decide to cut hours THIS weekend. Nevermind that these next 3 weekends are going to be our busiest, they cut hours now. Who does this? We are so short-staffed with so much that needs to be done that it's similar to putting all your weight onto an egg and expecting it not to break. So this weekend we'll be overworked yet again. They were there until 11:45 last night because it was so bad. They are already expecting us to be there past midnight tonight because there are 8 closers. Eight closers when I'm sure we'll do close to $200,000 in sales!? Yeah fucking right. They've scheduled me 40 hours this week and so I'm coming in an hour late so I can stay until midnight. But I have to leave BEFORE midnight or else I'll hit overtime. And I was told I would be written up if I got overtime. Talk about bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So everyone is pissed at both the Canadians for making a mess of our store and being rude AND at the management. This should be an interesting weekend. I've already decided I'm going to be an asshole.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-7344972291111305634?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/7344972291111305634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=7344972291111305634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7344972291111305634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7344972291111305634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/05/long-weekend.html' title='&quot;Long&quot; Weekend'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-3801006647651891664</id><published>2007-05-07T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T09:32:57.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoa</title><content type='html'>This weekend was rough. It was busy. People were really rude, more so than normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So like my little updater says, there were these 2 total bitches. I'm so glad I didn't help them because I would have argued with them. So one of the women was registered for her baby shower at Target, and already people think they're entitled to everything. Well, she had a lot of stuff that she didn't register for and so we couldn't use the registry/purchase log to do the return, thus throwing us back to the no-receipt policy where she can only do 2 items per year and yadda yadda yadda. Both of the women flipped ass and were completely rude and disrespectful. They were the type of people where they told us to make an exception for them. No, you can't demand an exception, it can only be offered. Well one woman said she used to work at Target a while ago and said we could override the policy and told us we "were going to do it." That was true a while ago, but we've had system updates since then where no one but Refund Authorization can override it, and Refund Authorization follows the policy stricter than we do, so they almost never override. So these 2 bitches (and that doesn't do them justice) went up the management chain and got the same answer. The LOD was up there and they were just trash-talking everyone involved so he repeated what we had said and left. Then they started bitching that a manager should never walk away and more shit. It was painful to listen to. I wanted to punch them in the ovaries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was also a Canadian who wanted to pay on her card but she didn't have her number or knew her balance and wanted us to look it up. We can't. We can't look up account numbers or find out the balance due to privacy issues. Do you want every Target employee in America to have access to your information!? Didn't think so. Well, that wasn't the end of it. After we told her that we do not have any access to any of her information she asked us different questions about it. "What if I give you my name? Can I give you my address? Can you look it up with my social?" NO! "What if I wanted to make a purchase?" WE STILL CAN'T! Plus, we need the card to charge on it. I hate when people ask us basically the same question when it's the same answer! We don't have access to your info! We don't say that and then say, oh but we can look up your name. What the fuck people!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was another family who didn't get it. This older woman comes in with a digital camera and it's defective, but didn't have a receipt. I was on lunch at the time so another co-worker handled it. It was 74.98 as the lowest sale price. We can't do anything without a receipt, so my co-worker told her to track down the receipt. And whenever we say receipt we mean one that's dated within 90 days, as per our policy. So the woman leaves. She comes back when my co-worker is on lunch and I'm up there, this time she has her receipt BUT it was bought LAST May. So obviously way past 90 days. So I tell her there's nothing we can do but give her a number where she can contact the manufactururer, and she leaves. About an hour or so later she comes back in with her daughter and son-in-law. This time they are freaking out. They are saying we are cheating them out of money and all that bullshit accusation. Your receipt is a year old! We have a 90 day return policy! What don't you understand!? You'll have to go through the manufacturer! I don't get when people expect a store to stand behind what they sell indefinitely. That's not the way things work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I got my raise! Thank fucking god! I'm over $9 now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-3801006647651891664?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/3801006647651891664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=3801006647651891664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/3801006647651891664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/3801006647651891664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/05/whoa.html' title='Whoa'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-4747921362288283580</id><published>2007-04-29T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T09:34:47.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Am I?</title><content type='html'>So I haven't updated recently. There's nothing too interesting going on in the world of Target and I'm in the middle of a whole week off from the hellhole! I didn't even ask for this weekend off, but they gave it to me. What I did ask off was next weekend, but of course I work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm nearing the end of this semester and after next Thursday, I'll be done! I'm so excited for this summer because it will be boatloads of fun. A bunch of us Target folk are all about the outside activities because it is only decent weather for about 3 months. We've already gotten in kickball, rollerblading, tennis, and a few parties. It's so much fun because the co-workers at my store are great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonder why I'm such a good mood? Could it have something to do with me not working for a week? No, never. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-4747921362288283580?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/4747921362288283580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=4747921362288283580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/4747921362288283580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/4747921362288283580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/04/where-am-i.html' title='Where Am I?'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-8194753400761073212</id><published>2007-04-18T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T21:54:05.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Person Can Change Everything</title><content type='html'>So now that I see the light at the end of the tunnel, it makes me want to run as fast as possible to get to it. I’m done with my store at the very latest July 31. Every single bitchy person that I encounter makes me think of that day. And I’m glad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my computer is done being a shitface for the time being so here I am again. Perfect timing too because Doris came in tonight. The ‘buy shitloads of clearance stuff only to return it weeks later’ and has some of her receipts but because she waits until she has bags and bags of shit to return, it would take longer to use the receipts. So we use handy-dandy receipt look-up. I don’t know where I would be without it. Anywho, she comes in at 9:45 with 4 bags of clothing packed full. Fifteen minutes before close and four bags of shit. Her comment, “I thought this would be a good time.” Wrong! The best time would be right away in the morning. So I start doing my receipt look-ups and she doesn’t know which is on what transaction so I end up doing a majority of items by themselves. (Thank fucking god we’re getting our POS update NEXT week! Of course it couldn’t have been this week when I actually needed it) And Doris is just chatting away the reasons why she’s returning them. We’ve all heard it before; they don’t fit your granddaughter. You would think after buying so much clothing for her that she would know the size by now, but no! I see one item doesn’t have the tags or any numbers so I save that until later. I’m doing pretty good, I finish all but that one item in ten minutes. There had to be at least 35 items on 15 different receipt look-ups. So I tell her to go find the same thing and bring it up so I could use the numbers from that to attempt to find it. She comes back and it’s a no go. So like always she flips out about how she paid for it with her credit card and why she even bothers using her credit card because “we told her she could use it to do look-ups.” I tell her, like we always do, that receipt look-up isn’t 100% (but it’s damn close) and it’s always better to have a receipt. We then go through her stack of receipts she has. Not in there. She bitches more about how it should be on the card, and because it’s now after close I tell her she has 2 options: no-receipt return, or find the receipt. So I try to do the no-receipt return. I must’ve forgotten who I was dealing with; she had already used her 2 that Target allows per year. I’m pretty sure she burned those 2 up with me on the same day back when I knew little about her habits. So she bitches more and then I tell her she now has one option: find the receipt! She bitches about how it’s probably with her daughter because she kept some stuff. I give my classic ‘And?’ shrug and just stare at her. She goes on about I ruined her night because she was out $9. I ruined YOUR night!? How about you were ruining mine? How about whenever you come in you are so difficult to help because it’s your own damn fault you don’t have all the receipts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s no wonder the head cashiers have Doris on their ‘Want to Ban’ list. After she said I ruined her night, I was expecting to hear her say she would stop shopping there. Did I hear it? Nope, which only means this will play out again and again. At least I have my light at the end of the tunnel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also cashier-trained. One person. They waste my time training on one person. At least group them together so I have a bunch, but one person is pointless. Yet there I am every Wednesday night training and more often then not, it’s one person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I better get a good fucking raise. I deserve it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-8194753400761073212?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/8194753400761073212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=8194753400761073212' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/8194753400761073212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/8194753400761073212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/04/one-person-can-change-everything.html' title='One Person Can Change Everything'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-2114278492226329143</id><published>2007-04-11T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T09:20:34.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Computer</title><content type='html'>Well, my laptop is on the fritz for whatever reason, and so I haven't been able to do my posts as frequently as I'd like. For now, I'll just use my old PC to update this whenever I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyways, GOOD NEWS! I got into my pharmacy program! So I'll be moving there in August, which means the end of my reign at my current Target. :(  I'm leaning towards transferring to a Target with a pharmacy down there, so I could get some pharmacy experience. And also keep my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wonderous&lt;/span&gt; pay (I should be around $9/hour after my May raise!) and also to have something to fall back upon if need be. It'll definitely be sad leaving all the great (and some not so great) people at my store and I can already see myself tearing up on my last day. It'll be bittersweet for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my supervisors are already freaking out because two of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; best Guest Service people are leaving, myself and Amanda. Amanda will be doing some internship this summer. Well anyways, no one really goes above and beyond at GS except for us, so they want me to be a mentor to someone, which is nice to hear. Everyone up there knows the policies and everything, but some just need to go further with it. I consider myself responsible for the department and I'm kinda a perfectionist so it's very clean and organized. I also know more than anyone in our store about Guest Service and have encountered nearly everything that could happen up there. I just think they need people with initiative to learn in order to be the best in Guest Service, or anywhere for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my Canadian rants will definitely slow down as I'm sure I won't be seeing nearly as many as them. THANK GOD! But if I work in the pharmacy, I'm sure to encounter a whole brand new set of guests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't think of any rude/dumb people lately simply because I'm so happy I can see the end of the tunnel that some don't even matter anymore. But I'll definitely still share stories!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just remembered one! And you thought you would see a post without bitching...&lt;br /&gt;So this guy walks in with a mud-encrusted bike. "I'm from Canada (oh great) and this bike broke the first time my son used it, I just want to do an exchange." Now I don't know if any of you are familiar with Target and their bikes, but it's not fun although it does make sense. So I tell him that we have to let the bike guy come in and try to fix it and if he can't then we can refund his money. He freaks out saying that he's from Canada and won't be back down here and all that good stuff. He asks for a manager. I call the head cashier up. She says the same thing I did, then the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;LOD&lt;/span&gt; came up and told him the same thing we had said. Turns out the bike guy was coming in the next day and that was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with our lovely Canadian. So I have him fill out his information and he leaves. I notice his last name was O'Toole. Knowing me, I blurt out, "How fitting." My supervisor just laughs. I didn't have the pleasure of dealing with him the next day so I don't know how the situation was handled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And like every Easter Saturday (yes, the day before Easter Sunday) we always run out of something. This year we ran out of hams and Easter grass. And of course people were bitchy. Why are you waiting until the day before Easter to get Easter shit!? It just doesn't make sense. And now it's all on clearance... oh boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-2114278492226329143?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/2114278492226329143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=2114278492226329143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2114278492226329143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2114278492226329143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/04/stupid-computer.html' title='Stupid Computer'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-7130660123333284406</id><published>2007-04-01T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T09:25:51.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rough</title><content type='html'>It was a rough day yesterday. Well today should be even better, all the Canadians return the stuff they just bought for who knows what reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a lot of rude people, most of which I didn't have to encounter. But the best part is when I first got up to GS and I was talking to the other GSTMs and I said I'd be the one to get all the bitchy people, the phone rang, and I said "Exhibit A" before I even answered it. I pick it up and this woman tells me about how her daughter put her wedding gifts in a storage place in September and now wants to return them. Since that is way past the 90 days, I told her that the receipts would be expired and that she would have to do the whole no-receipt exchange. She freaks out saying the policy is stupid that we should be able to do it because it is stuff from Target. I tell her we have a 90 return policy and she continues to berate me. She tells me how she's old and didn't read the receipt and didn't know it expired. Nevermind that the return policy is on the back of every receipt. So I get sick of her yelling at me because all she is doing is arguing with me so I pull out the "I can get a supervisor for you to talk to" but no, she still keeps bitching and telling me she's going to come in and talk to a manager. Fine, go right ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What don't people 'get' about 90 days? Who cares if it's from Target, that's not a factor in the return policy! It doesn't say 90 days with a valid receipt but we'll still take it back after that if we still sell it. If 90 isn't reasonable, then what is? 6 months? A year? 5 years? Why does that make sense? When you make a purchase from anywhere, you agree to all their terms, including the return policy. It is your responsibility as a consumer to know about these before you buy something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My co-workers got much more rude people than I did. One guy asked for a manager and when he came up the guy TOLD him that we have 2 options, refund his money or he would leave his computer with us and we could install his computer game. The manager told him sternly that we wouldn't be doing either. (He had a open computer game, and could only be exchanged for the exact same thing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand why anyone would be such an asshole to a complete stranger all over a return policy. What ever happened to acting like an adult?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-7130660123333284406?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/7130660123333284406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=7130660123333284406' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7130660123333284406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7130660123333284406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/04/rough.html' title='Rough'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-233704944001700431</id><published>2007-03-31T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T11:51:03.472-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Fun</title><content type='html'>Of course it was busy, why the hell wouldn't it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pull into the parking lot at noon on a FRIDAY and it looks like it's a busy Saturday, but this was NOON on a FRIDAY. Well yet again we were on a skeleton crew where even one person calling in sick affects the whole store. One of the cart attendants called in sick, so the LODs actually did some work and brought carts in. 3 salesfloor people called in so the LODs did returns to help. The closers were there until 11:40, a full hour and forty minutes AFTER close. And of course tonight will be worse and of course I close. I have to do the ad and everything, so I'm usually doing my Guest Service business until 11. But I just fucking hate the way they run the store. You know it's Canadian spring break, you know it's going to be REALLY busy, and yet we have no hours to show it. All so the LODs and STL get their bonuses because god forbid they actually care about the employees who got them their bonuses. I feel like the store shouldn't be judged on sales because there is really nothing we can do to control them (besides having MORE people on to help guests) and more on both guest and employee satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So onto something else. I was already talking about how the no receipt limit was dropping to $40, then $20, but I didn't know it dropped to $40 TOMORROW! I get to work too so that should be fun. I believe August 1 is when it drops down to $20 but since there is NO communication in our store, I don't know for sure. Yes, change a very important fact about our job, but don't tell us about it. Great business plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I can end the bitter bitchfest here...for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-233704944001700431?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/233704944001700431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=233704944001700431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/233704944001700431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/233704944001700431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/03/more-fun.html' title='More Fun'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-7506045586372409029</id><published>2007-03-29T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T16:07:05.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Customer Is Always Right" Is Wrong</title><content type='html'>I found this excellent article "Top 5 reasons why 'The customer is always right' is wrong" and I'll post it here so you can read it. It's available at &lt;a href="http://positivesharing.com/2006/07/why-the-customer-is-always-right-results-in-bad-customer-service/"&gt;http://positivesharing.com/2006/07/why-the-customer-is-always-right-results-in-bad-customer-service/&lt;/a&gt;. This goes beyond my hatred for some people and focuses more on the business side of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When the customer isn’t right - for your business&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;One woman who frequently flew on Southwest, was constantly disappointed with every aspect of the company’s operation. In fact, she became known as the “Pen Pal” because after every flight she wrote in with a complaint.&lt;br /&gt;She didn’t like the fact that the company didn’t assign seats; she didn’t like the absence of a first-class section; she didn’t like not having a meal in flight; she didn’t like Southwest’s boarding procedure; she didn’t like the flight attendants’ sporty uniforms and the casual atmosphere.&lt;br /&gt;Her last letter, reciting a litany of complaints, momentarily stumped Southwest’s customer relations people. They bumped it up to Herb’s [Kelleher, CEO of Southwest] desk, with a note: ‘This one’s yours.’&lt;br /&gt;In sixty seconds, Kelleher wrote back and said, ‘Dear Mrs. Crabapple, We will miss you. Love, Herb.’”&lt;br /&gt;The phrase “The customer is always right” was originally coined by Harry Gordon Selfridge, the founder of Selfridge’s department store in London in 1909, and is typically used by businesses to:&lt;br /&gt;Convince customers that they will get good service at this company&lt;br /&gt;Convince employees to give customers good service&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately more and more businesses are abandoning this maxim - ironically because it leads to bad customer service.&lt;br /&gt;Here are the top five reasons why “The customer is always right” is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a id="more-973"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1: It makes employees unhappy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gordon Bethune is a brash Texan (as is Herb Kelleher, coincidentally) who is best known for turning Continental Airlines around “From Worst to First,” a story told in his book of the same title from 1998. He wanted to make sure that both customers and employees liked the way Continental treated them, so he made it very clear that the maxim “the customer is always right” didn’t hold sway at Continental.&lt;br /&gt;In conflicts between employees and unruly customers he would consistently side with his people. Here’s how he puts it:&lt;br /&gt;When we run into customers that we can’t reel back in, our loyalty is with our employees. They have to put up with this stuff every day. Just because you buy a ticket does not give you the right to abuse our employees . . .&lt;br /&gt;We run more than 3 million people through our books every month. One or two of those people are going to be unreasonable, demanding jerks. When it’s a choice between supporting your employees, who work with you every day and make your product what it is, or some irate jerk who demands a free ticket to Paris because you ran out of peanuts, whose side are you going to be on?&lt;br /&gt;You can’t treat your employees like serfs. You have to value them . . . If they think that you won’t support them when a customer is out of line, even the smallest problem can cause resentment.&lt;br /&gt;So Bethune trusts his people over unreasonable customers. What I like about this attitude is that it balances employees and customers, where the “always right” maxim squarely favors the customer - which is not a good idea, because, as Bethune says, it causes resentment among employees.&lt;br /&gt;Of course there are plenty of examples of bad employees giving lousy customer service. But trying to solve this by declaring the customer “always right” is counter-productive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2: It gives abrasive customers an unfair advantage&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Using the slogan “The customer is always right” abusive customers can demand just about anything - they’re right by definition, aren’t they? This makes the employees’ job that much harder, when trying to rein them in.&lt;br /&gt;Also, it means that abusive people get better treatment and conditions than nice people. That always seemed wrong to me, and it makes much more sense to be nice to the nice customers to keep them coming back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3: Some customers are bad for business&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Most businesses think that “the more customers the better”. But some customers are quite simply bad for business.&lt;br /&gt;Danish IT service provider ServiceGruppen proudly tell this story:&lt;br /&gt;One of our service technicians arrived at a customer’s site for a maintenance task, and to his great shock was treated very rudely by the customer.&lt;br /&gt;When he’d finished the task and returned to the office, he told management about his experience. They promptly cancelled the customer’s contract.&lt;br /&gt;Just like Kelleher dismissed the irate lady who kept complaining (but somehow also kept flying on Southwest), ServiceGruppen fired a bad customer. Note that it was not even a matter of a financial calculation - not a question of whether either company would make or lose money on that customer in the long run. It was a simple matter of respect and dignity and of treating their employees right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4: It results in worse customer service&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rosenbluth International, a corporate travel agency, took it even further. CEO Hal Rosenbluth wrote an excellent book about their approach called &lt;a href="http://positivesharing.com/2003/01/book-review-the-customer-comes-second"&gt;Put The Customer Second - Put your people first and watch’em kick butt&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Rosenbluth argues that when you put the employees first, they put the customers first. Put employees first, and they will be happy at work. Employees who are happy at work give better customer service because:&lt;br /&gt;They care more about other people, including customers&lt;br /&gt;They have more energy&lt;br /&gt;They are happy, meaning they are more fun to talk to and interact with&lt;br /&gt;They are more motivated&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, when the company and management consistently side with customers instead of with employees, it sends a clear message that:&lt;br /&gt;Employees are not valued&lt;br /&gt;That treating employees fairly is not important&lt;br /&gt;That employees have no right to respect from customers&lt;br /&gt;That employees have to put up with everything from customers&lt;br /&gt;When this attitude prevails, employees stop caring about service. At that point, real good service is almost impossible - the best customers can hope for is fake good service. You know the kind I mean: corteous on the surface only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5: Some customers are just plain wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Herb Kelleher agrees, as this passage From &lt;a href="http://positivesharing.com/2003/01/book-review-nuts"&gt;Nuts! the excellent book about Southwest Airlines&lt;/a&gt; shows:&lt;br /&gt;Herb Kelleher […] makes it clear that his employees come first — even if it means dismissing customers. But aren’t customers always right? “No, they are not,” Kelleher snaps. “And I think that’s one of the biggest betrayals of employees a boss can possibly commit. The customer is sometimes wrong. We don’t carry those sorts of customers. We write to them and say, ‘Fly somebody else. Don’t abuse our people.’”&lt;br /&gt;If you still think that the customer is always right, read this story from Bethune’s book “From Worst to First”:&lt;br /&gt;A Continental flight attendant once was offended by a passenger’s child wearing a hat with Nazi and KKK emblems on it. It was pretty offensive stuff, so the attendant went to the kid’s father and asked him to put away the hat. “No,” the guy said. “My kid can wear what he wants, and I don’t care who likes it.”&lt;br /&gt;The flight attendant went into the cockpit and got the first officer, who explained to the passenger the FAA regulation that makes it a crime to interfere with the duties of a crew member. The hat was causing other passengers and the crew discomfort, and that interfered with the flight attendant’s duties. The guy better put away the hat.&lt;br /&gt;He did, but he didn’t like it. He wrote many nasty letters. We made every effort to explain our policy and the federal air regulations, but he wasn’t hearing it. He even showed up in our executive suite to discuss the matter with me. I let him sit out there. I didn’t want to see him and I didn’t want to listen to him. He bought a ticket on our airplane, and that means we’ll take him where he wants to go. But if he’s going to be rude and offensive, he’s welcome to fly another airline.&lt;br /&gt;The fact is that some customers are just plain wrong, that businesses are better of without them, and that managers siding with unreasonable customers over employees is a very bad idea, that results in worse customer service.&lt;br /&gt;So put your people first. And watch them put the customers first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-7506045586372409029?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/7506045586372409029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=7506045586372409029' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7506045586372409029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/7506045586372409029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/03/customer-is-always-right-is-wrong.html' title='&quot;The Customer Is Always Right&quot; Is Wrong'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-4079935745417145760</id><published>2007-03-28T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T09:37:29.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things Are A Changing</title><content type='html'>Well, we're right in the middle of Canadian spring break and from what I hear, it's a complete disaster at my store. They've been there for ~2 hours past closing. THAT'S MIDNIGHT! That's completely unacceptable in my book. They KNOW when Canadian spring break is but yet every year, we don't have enough scheduling. I can only describe it as busy like Christmas shopping. It's nuts. But, we only have scheduling for a normal weekday in March. It fucking pisses me off. I'm not looking forward to closing Saturday because it will be BAD. I'm guessing even past midnight. I will not be a happy camper that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I don't get is why Canadians are willing to spend a week in our city. There's barely enough to do here to last a weekend, but it seems like they come into Target EVERYDAY. Why? I have no idea. And another thing, why does the WHOLE country have spring break? I have yet to see college-aged students, it's all middle-aged women who think they're hot and old people. Gross. And it would be a cold day in hell before they'd leave their CANADA shirts/sweatshirts at home. We can tell you're from Canada without the flag plastered over every item on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now to my blog title, Target is changing an aspect of the no receipt policy. For the good you think? Hell no! It's becoming even more limited. When we get our new Point-Of-Sale software, it will only allow us to do items under $40 without a receipt. The whole exchanging thing will stay the same. It used to be items under $100. But that's not all! We'll eventually phase out the $40 limit and replace it with a $20 one! Oh joy! I have no dates when this is happening, but it will be sometime this year. I'm not excited because if we thought people were assholes before, it's only going to get worse. But a way to combat this is to keep ALL of your receipts because within 90 days, you can still return pretty much the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be closing tonight, so be sure to watch the ugly pink box in the sideline to hear what it's like at my store in real time. I'm so not looking forward to tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-4079935745417145760?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/4079935745417145760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=4079935745417145760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/4079935745417145760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/4079935745417145760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/03/things-are-changing.html' title='Things Are A Changing'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-8319900325804184172</id><published>2007-03-23T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T17:06:16.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Do You Take A Magnet Off?</title><content type='html'>Yep that rude people magnet that I have attached to me is really working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, the very first person I help is a bitch. She bought something back in November and so the receipt expired in February. Well because the receipt was expired, we couldn't use it. It was still in our system though, so we could do a no-receipt (because hers was no longer valid) exchange and the item was about $30. So one item from the same department for equal or greater value and blah blah blah. She is one of the many people that ask for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;giftcard&lt;/span&gt; (again, if it were an option I would have said so) and then demands a manager. The manager comes up and tells her the exact same thing I did. And then of course it always ends with the person screaming that they will never step foot in a Target again. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, bye, don't let the door hit your ass on the way out. It's always fun when you get a &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Noreceiptus&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;majorbitchus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; as your very first person. Things can only get better. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Riiiiiiiight&lt;/span&gt;, which leads me to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;scammers&lt;/span&gt;. Or &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Scammeri&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;drunkus&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;You could smell the beer rolling off these two. So I see them walking from the electronics department with a DVD-VCR combo. Normal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;nonscammers&lt;/span&gt; bring in their stuff in from outside. But because there were no security people there, I couldn't do a thing, and that's what sucked. So they bring their "return" up to me and it comes up as $76.99 as the lowest price. Same no-receipt policy as before, no need to repeat myself. So they grab Guitar Hero II and that's $79.99. So I start to process it and because the DVD/VCR combo has a serial number, and so I type it in, and wow, it can't find it! Meaning it hasn't been purchased! So I tell them that I am unable to return it without a valid receipt. They both go into a fit. From saying "Can we get someone else up here who knows what they're doing?" , "Just let us pay for the difference now, and you can get it to work later." to "We can sell this at a pawn shop." How many more red flags do I need!? So because we weren't able to do the exchange, they walked out with the DVD/VCR combo, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bringing me to today... This I'm really pissed about. So this lady comes up to Guest Service with at least a two foot long receipt. It was dated March 3. She claims she forgot to use her Target Rewards card where she gets 10% off. Had it been the same day, it would have taken 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;minutes&lt;/span&gt; tops. But because it was from a previous day, in order for me to get it to work, I would have to type in EVERY SINGLE THING ON THE RECEIPT and refund it, and then once again type in EVERY SINGLE THING ON THE RECEIPT to repurchase it. On a (at least) two foot long receipt totaling ~$350, and of course it was mostly consisting of items under $1. So as I'm typing everything in to return it, the way our system is set up is that if it's a perishable food item, it will make you defect it out. Because nothing was actually being returned, it's going to mess up our inventory, all to please a (soon to be found out later, bitchy) guest. So I finally finish returning it, and give her the cash back. Then I start typing it all back in for the repurchase, but this time I have to make sure she isn't being overcharged for items (because it WAS 20 days ago!) and of course some items are lower than what she purchased them for, and I can't change them up because the computer wouldn't let me, so she's getting even more of a discount. Well, I finally finish and we use her Rewards card and she saves $35 and I take her Rewards card and she pays. Well, then she asks for her discount card back (because it can be used all day) and I was furious enough so I turned to Chelsey, who was up there SOLELY because I had spent 45 MINUTES(!!!!!) helping her when I didn't need to. Chelsey tells her no because it would've been used March 5 and so she couldn't get the benefit of using it two days. She also complained that she didn't want to buy it that day and was going to return everything that day and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;rebuy&lt;/span&gt; everything today, if she could use her discount. Well yes! But since that was not the case, she got pissed and said 'Thanks!' in a bitchy way and walked off.&lt;br /&gt;Are you kidding me!? I spent 45 minutes so you could get a $35 discount and you have the nerve to complain that you can't use it further!? But what really pissed me off is that this bitch's mom walks up and asks her what's taking so long. Thank god I didn't hear her or else I would have went OFF on her. I'm doing you a favor, and since you want it done so badly, you do not deserve to complain. I was about to send her shopping when I started, but then I figured that if I'm going to stand her and do this (TO BE NICE!) then she could stand there with me also. So now after that ordeal, the head cashiers decided that people only have 3 days to come in and fix stuff like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to this: I'm sick of being nice to people. I would say 90% of the time where I do something nice (that I don't HAVE to do), people still bitch and moan. I can be an asshole. I can be insensitive. But the truth is, I don't have a mean bone in my body unless you constantly press my buttons. All I ask is that I'm treated with respect, but sadly I rarely ever am. You think retail is easy? Try it. By all means, I'll even train you in! And then we'll see how you like being constantly and consistently treated like shit day in and day out. So for all you non-retailers out there: Be respectful! I can honestly say that I have not fully helped someone (compared to how much I could have helped them) simply based on their attitude towards me. You may think that's mean of me, but why do they deserve it? If you can't be nice to me, you don't deserve a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of rant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-8319900325804184172?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/8319900325804184172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=8319900325804184172' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/8319900325804184172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/8319900325804184172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/03/how-do-you-take-magnet-off.html' title='How Do You Take A Magnet Off?'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-5825806802424587891</id><published>2007-03-18T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T16:20:25.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, I Asked For It</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I made a post saying that I wanted today to be just as "fun" as yesterday, and I got the icing on the cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get a phone call at Guest Service and this lady wants an adjustment. She bought it on 3/3 making it 15 days. Our adjustment policy is 14 days. I tell her this over the phone, and say that I've encountered a few times where it let me adjust it after the fact and that we didn't know until we tried it in the store. I did not guarantee her anything, I just told her we could try it.&lt;br /&gt;So she and her 20-something kid came into the store to try it. It didn't work, just my luck. The lady freaks out in all senses of the word basically bitching at me. She yells that why did I tell her she could do it if she couldn't. I told her I only said she could come in and try it, and that I didn't guarantee her anything. She starts bitching that if it was only 14 days, then why did I say we could try it. Because it sometimes lets us. So I get sick of her bitching at me and call up the head cashier to take care of it. They totally back me up and get the bitch to leave. But not before the son (of the bitch--haha) starts yelling, "FUCK THIS PLACE! FUCK THIS PLACE!" The mom is still arguing with the head cashier and me saying (to me), "If you work up here, you should know the policy." No, bitch, wrong thing to say. I say, "I DO know the policy." I could bet you $1 billion I know more about Guest Service than anyone in our store including the managers. She's also bitching that she had to make a 10-minute trip here. Oh boohoo. And then as they walk off, the woman turns around, "Wal-mart would've done it." Well, you're not in Wal-mart dear! I say as soon as she disappears, "I have a feeling we'll be seeing them again." Not even 30 seconds later she comes back up. Great. She's then asking if she will get cash back if she comes in to exchange it. We get that whole thing figured out and she leaves to get the item. But she said, "We'll be right back, he lives right over there" and points. But I thought it was a 10 minute drive? Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were other rude people but she took the cake. And I must've had a rude people magnet on me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-5825806802424587891?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/5825806802424587891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=5825806802424587891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/5825806802424587891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/5825806802424587891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/03/well-i-asked-for-it.html' title='Well, I Asked For It'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-6221050652112256732</id><published>2007-03-17T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-17T15:49:09.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back Into The Swing Of Things</title><content type='html'>Yeah, the nice people had to take this weekend off because we had a lot of rude people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I experienced a few "fun" people:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This woman lost her keys and was freaking out because of it. I understand, but this lady was a bitch. She comes up and asks me if any keys were turned in. Nope. Then she asks me to page overhead for everyone in the store to check their carts for her keys. Hell no. I tell her that I'm unable to do that because the only thing I'm allowed to do overhead is page someone. She freaks out. "So I'm just SOL then!? I can't check every cart!" I give her this shrug and just tell her I can't make the page for her. I tell her I can call up a supervisor for her to talk to but that's about it. She storms off and just then is when a cashier finds her keys on the lane she was just at. I hope she drops them down into the sewer and can't get them out. Page that bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this whole no receipt exchange thing is getting out of control. Some people are just bitchy. One guy had something from infants that was $19.99 and it was a gift so he didn't have a receipt. Here goes the conversation:&lt;br /&gt;Me-"Without a receipt, you'll have to exchange this for one item from infants that is $19.99 or greater."&lt;br /&gt;Asshole-"Can't you give me a giftcard!?" (Did I fucking mention one!?)&lt;br /&gt;M-"Not without a receipt. You'll have to exchange it for another item from infants that's 19.99 or greater."&lt;br /&gt;A-"Then just give me a giftcard to do that."&lt;br /&gt;M-"No, you'll have to do the exchange up here."&lt;br /&gt;So he walks away and bitches to his wife (loudly so I guess I could hear) and they walk off. Oh, too bad it's the end of my shift and I can leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was also this woman who challenged it right as it came out of my mouth, and I'm sick of people treating me like crap so I explained everything so the little sweetheart could understand. She was also bitching that you're only allowed two no receipt returns/exchanges per year to which I corrected her saying, "Target requires a receipt for all returns and exchanges, and they do allow two exceptions per 12 month period." Bitch, if you want to go by the real policy, I'd have no problem. I'm helping YOU out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this woman who already used her two but bitched because she was just exchanging and that "it wasn't a return." Exchanging is RETURNING an item and buying another one. Returning is a part of an exchange, but you are technically still returning something to the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to hoping that tomorrow is just as fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-6221050652112256732?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/6221050652112256732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=6221050652112256732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/6221050652112256732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/6221050652112256732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/03/back-into-swing-of-things.html' title='Back Into The Swing Of Things'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-5740400481560160799</id><published>2007-03-16T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T18:32:27.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Keep using them"</title><content type='html'>So no big issues at work today, it was kinda slow with some spurts of activity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But something happened to my friend back in domestics. So you know about those dumbass shoes with the wheel in them (Heelies or whatever), well you can't use them in the store because it's just like rollerblades and stuff like that. It's not safe! Well, my friend saw them earlier and then heard one of them yell 'wipeout.' So, because she doesn't want to get in trouble for one of the kids using them, she went and told them they couldn't use them in the store. The mother of the kids told them, "Keep using them" and walked off. So she went and told our security person, but they had already left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But honestly, I get the whole 'Don't tell my kids what to do' shtick, but when you are in a PUBLIC place especially one full of people, you can have some consideration for others. Because who would the mom blame if her kid hurt themself...the store! Because no one has any personal responsibility anymore. If I were my friend, I would have told her to leave right then and there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-5740400481560160799?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/5740400481560160799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=5740400481560160799' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/5740400481560160799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/5740400481560160799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/03/keep-using-them.html' title='&quot;Keep using them&quot;'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-8072105997033418136</id><published>2007-03-10T22:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T23:09:39.167-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coincidence?</title><content type='html'>So today I was genuinely being nice to people and I didn't have near as many cranky fucks as usual. Maybe there's a correlation? No, it can't be. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you think you've seen and heard everything, something else comes up leaving you dumbfounded. So I'm giving Guest Service a break and this old guy comes up with a gift receipt and hands ONLY the gift receipt to me. He didn't have anything else. So I look at him like 'What the hell am I supposed to do with this?' look and say, "Did you need to return something?" Now I just love when people treat you like YOU are the one that's retarded when it's really them and this is a perfect example. He's a complete asshole and basically gives me the 'You figure it out' look. Apparently he thinks that the gift receipt that was given to him meant that we had his gift at our store. He even points out that both the gift receipt AND our sign says to present the gift receipt to which I say, "That's for returns and exchanges. We don't do anything like that here." He still insinuates that he has a gift sitting at our store that his daughter paid for and his gift receipt is what he needed to pick it up. So I use my handy computer and tell him everything that's on the gift receipt, basically spoiling his gift. He finally 'got it' and realized that maybe his gift, to which I just told him what it was, is in the mail on it's way to him. Some people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of these days I may just have to say what I'm thinking to these people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, the people that wait in line and sigh and complain that it's taking forever, and when it's their turn, THAT'S when they start looking for the god damn receipt. How about you look for it while you're bitching about waiting! That's why it takes us so long because we have to wait for people to dig through a year's worth of receipts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or to the people on cell phones, come on! The next time someone doesn't get off their phone for my transaction (after all I am a human and deserve some respect) I should just take out my cell phone and call people until they are done. I have ignored people that were on their cell phone at Guest Service and I don't feel the least bit sad about it. You can hang up your fucking phone for 2 minutes. My best example of this is when this one woman comes up and in between her conversation with whomever (could&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;'ve&lt;/span&gt; been the president!) she was telling me her situation. So I begin to tell her the no-receipt exchange policy, she puts up her finger and shushes me. HELL NO, you just didn't do that! I walked to another register and helped the next person in line. How disrespectful. Your ass walked up to me, I'm the priority. I don't mean that in a snotty way, but if you need MY help, you interact with ME, not your cell phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, spring break... 5 days off from work. Maybe it will calm me down a bit?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-8072105997033418136?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/8072105997033418136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=8072105997033418136' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/8072105997033418136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/8072105997033418136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/03/coincidence.html' title='Coincidence?'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-2833662209569892626</id><published>2007-03-05T08:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T09:14:20.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>EXPI(RED)</title><content type='html'>Oh wow! That's all I can say about the past few days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday I got to leave after only 2 hours because it was still dead in the store. I helped 9 people in my 2 hours that I was at Guest Service. The next person came in, and I got to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the weather changed and it was nice Saturday and Sunday. All the people that weren't in the store for the past week came in. It was nuts. And there were tons of expired receipts, but there wasn't really a backlash against that. Well, less than normal anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we did have our fair share of Canadians. It's their stupid holiday. We get asked CONSTANTLY if we exchange money. No. Do it before you fucking come here. Well, there was this one who had a $100 Canadian bill and wanted to exchange it for US money. So here goes the conversation:&lt;br /&gt;Canadian: "Can I exchange this?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "I'm sorry, we don't exchange money up here but you can use it at the tills for payment."&lt;br /&gt;C: "So can I use it at the Starbucks in here?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yes, but they may have to call to for money to have enough to give back to you." (We did just open, and there's not enough in the registers for a fuckin' $100 bill)&lt;br /&gt;C: "So why can't you just exchange it here then!?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "We don't exchange money."&lt;br /&gt;C: "Well where can I exchange it!?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "A bank."&lt;br /&gt;C: "They are all closed!"&lt;br /&gt;I just shrug and give her the 'not my problem' look.&lt;br /&gt;C: "This is just silly!"&lt;br /&gt;What's silly is that you Canadians come down here expecting that we are going to take your money. We don't have to. Exchange it BEFORE you come here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dread the weekend for this reason...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-2833662209569892626?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/2833662209569892626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=2833662209569892626' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2833662209569892626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2833662209569892626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/03/expired.html' title='EXPI(RED)'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-2104401850623132605</id><published>2007-03-02T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T13:47:14.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Middle Of A Snow Storm</title><content type='html'>Yeah, so that's pretty much how this week has been going by, but now we're in the worst part of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last week, the snow that we did have was minimal and it barely covered the ground. Fast forward to this week, where we now have a lovely two feet of snow. And today the winds picked up so it's pretty much a blizzard but not quite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was dead. I was scheduled until 7, but they let me go at 5 because there was basically no one in the store. By 5pm, our store hadn't even made $75,000. Yeah, on a Sunday. But much worse was yesterday, when most of the snow was coming down. I think around 4 or so, the store was only at $29,000. Yikes! They were letting people go home and calling people to NOT come in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to today. I work 4:30-9 in Guest Service. The next person doesn't come in until 6:30. I highly doubt I'll be there for my whole shift. There will be no one there HOPEFULLY. I would call someone crazy for driving in from a neighboring town, and I certainly hope this storm keeps the Canadians from coming down, even though it is their "civil holiday." They get the first Monday of every month off for some stupid reason, and they all come down here. Well, if they do decide to come down, would it be wrong to wish for them to end up in a ditch? Yes? Oh well, so be it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-2104401850623132605?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/2104401850623132605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=2104401850623132605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2104401850623132605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/2104401850623132605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/03/middle-of-snow-storm.html' title='Middle Of A Snow Storm'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-844901328262778490</id><published>2007-02-26T16:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T17:31:07.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Go Home</title><content type='html'>When will people learn? When a store, like my lovely Target, has policies, EVERYONE has to follow them. If we grant an exception for you, we have to grant an exception to everyone and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;therefore&lt;/span&gt; defeats the purpose of the policy in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this Canadian woman comes up to Guest Service and says, "I'm from Winnipeg and I need an adjustment." You agree that her being from Winnipeg has nothing to do with anything, right? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;. So I look at her receipt and it's dated 1/10/07. That's FAR past our 14 day adjustment window. "I'm sorry but we only do adjustments within 14 days," I tell her. Apparently I flipped the bitch switch. She says, "I'm from Canada, I don't get down here often." They all say that. Too bad the policy behind me and I don't care. I apologize again and tell her that we have the same policy for everyone. "So a manager wouldn't do this for me? I'm from Canada, and it's $40 cheaper, and don't get down here often." No, the manager won't do anything for you. They can't. Plus, the item was $80 originally and that would be a clearance price, and we don't do adjustments on clearance prices ever. After I tell her no for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;umpteenth&lt;/span&gt; time, she finally leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the exception train doesn't leave the station just yet. A little old lady comes up to Guest Service with an inflatable mattress. No receipt, she tells me it was a gift. I check it out and we still carry it and it's $24.99. Well, as all of you may know by now, without a receipt everything over $10 must be exchanged for one item from the same department for equal or greater value. She doesn't want any of it. She starts bitching about how she doesn't need anything from back there and just wants a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;giftcard&lt;/span&gt;. And then I reiterate the policy, and she just stares at me. I love when people do this because they think by staring at me and not saying anything, that I will "crumble under the pressure." I end up just finding it funny, so I just stare back. I can stand here all day. She eventually starts up again and I tell her there's not much I can do, and so she gives me a death stare and leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day is an adventure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-844901328262778490?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/844901328262778490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=844901328262778490' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/844901328262778490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/844901328262778490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/02/just-go-home.html' title='Just Go Home'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-4104521152360440718</id><published>2007-02-25T00:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T00:45:30.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Elaboration</title><content type='html'>If that's even a real word...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I was asked about the ranking system at Target. So here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bascially all the piddly jobs (aka me) are level 1s. And pretty much everyone higher is designated as level 3s, but there is still some orginization. Directly above the level 1s are the Team Leads, and those supervise various departments and this is where the head cashiers would fit in. They are technically called GSTLs (Guest Service Team Leads) but that's too fancy for my store apparently. And then above them are the LODs (Leader on Duty) or they are also called execs.  They oversee clusters of departments. For example, a jewelry level 1 reports to the jewelry team lead who reports to the Softlines exec/LOD. And then all the LODs report to the Store Team Lead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in my store we call the Team Leads "supervisors" and the LODs "managers" even though the names are interchangeable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this makes some sort of sense, otherwise you may just have to get a job at Target to understand. ;) If not, ask me specifically what you need to know, and hopefully I can answer it without being confusing. Hopefully.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-4104521152360440718?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/4104521152360440718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=4104521152360440718' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/4104521152360440718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/4104521152360440718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/02/elaboration.html' title='Elaboration'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-3053256076271986964</id><published>2007-02-22T16:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T16:39:35.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because We Do It In The Backroom</title><content type='html'>I'm so sick of people claiming it's "our" fault something is defective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point: Some guy comes in with a TV series on DVD and he's bitching that he didn't get the 'information' booklet in it. So I tell him he can go grab another one and we'll exchange it. Well he brings up another one and we open it up and that one doesn't have it either. So he grabs another one...same thing. He goes into this tirade about "this is how you screw people out of money, you don't give them the full product" and apparently this is why Target's prices are so low. I kept telling him that is was probably a manufacturer flaw BECAUSE WE DON'T MAKE SHIT IN THE BACKROOM! We don't package shit, we don't manufacture shit, and we don't monkey around with the products. Well this guy was so angry that he just wanted a return and went "somewhere that can be trusted."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will people learn? We sell it, we don't make it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-3053256076271986964?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/3053256076271986964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=3053256076271986964' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/3053256076271986964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/3053256076271986964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/02/because-we-do-it-in-backroom.html' title='Because We Do It In The Backroom'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-3121849172897770229</id><published>2007-02-17T01:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T01:23:32.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Satan's Fury Made a Pitstop</title><content type='html'>And I experienced the wrath...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am at Guest Service being helpful and "Fast, Fun, and Friendly" and up comes this woman. If I only knew what I was in for. So she starts going OFF about "all of the cashiers are stuck-up, rude, snotty" and other stuff and how they never say hi, thanks, the total, or how are you. She goes off on ME saying that there needs to be a follow-up with misbehaved cashiers and blah blah blah. The whole time, I'm just looking at her and keep saying, "Do you want me to call up a supervisor?" She keeps telling me no, that nothing ever gets resolved that way and that I should pass it along. I keep offering to call a supervisor but the bitch doesn't want one. So she finally places the blame on me (of course) and leaves. Ok, I hate agressive confrontation so my adrenaline was PUMPING and I could have hit her. So after she leaves we go and talk to the cashier, and we find out it's one of the nicest casheirs we have, and she said that she did say hi and all that jazz. And we believe her because I don't think that cashier has a mean bone in her body. But, if you are going to complain, but don't want to do anything about it, then WHY bother? I'm not going to "pass it on" when you yourself don't want to speak to a manager about it. No, fuck that. I'm the same level as the cashiers and shit, I'm even a cashier some days, so I'm not going to pass it on. I have NEVER seen a cashier at my store be rude to a guest for no reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after talking about her with everyone, I realize this wasn't the first time she graced our presence. Apparently, she has been in before but told that she would not be helped unless she stopped with the name-calling. It's like having Dennis in a female form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier in the afternoon, there was this kid who wanted me to page someone for him. It was like Petey and Bougues or something. So I lean down to do it and he asks if he can do it himself. Not even being nice, I look at him and tell him no. I also ask for their ACTUAL names, but he doesn't give. So I page them and the kid still stands there STARING at the loadspeaker as if he's going to grab it and say something. So I stand right next to it and help other people. Thank god his friends came up or else he would have grabbed it. But honestly, why are people so shocked when I tell them they can't use it? We have no way of controlling what someone else says over a STORE FULL OF PEOPLE. If you want to use the damn thing so badly, get a fucking job here. And I'd train you in and beat you upside the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish we had a punching bag back behind Guest Service. I cannot wait until I quit...providing I get into my program. My fingers are quadruple crossed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-3121849172897770229?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/3121849172897770229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=3121849172897770229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/3121849172897770229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/3121849172897770229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/02/satans-fury-made-pitstop.html' title='Satan&apos;s Fury Made a Pitstop'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-117113422261489423</id><published>2007-02-10T10:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T11:03:42.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah Kind Of Day</title><content type='html'>Well, I trained and did head cashiering. It was relatively quiet and so I did about 4 or 5 actual head cashier things and the rest was just me putting carts away and bagging. How fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the fun came when our registry kiosks went down. It was a nationwide thing. But still people bitched and bitched because it was 'our' fault. We put out of order signs on the 3 kiosks we have, but people still asked, "They're all out of order?" No you dumb shit we just love hanging signs up and pissing people off. Some people even asked if we could look them up on our computers...ah no. But the way people were acting was scary. People were bitching, "Well it was a total waste of time coming in here!" Ok, fine, but THERE IS NOTHING WE CAN DO. We didn't do it. We can't fix it. It's out of our hands. Thank god I wasn't actually working at Guest Service for my whole shift because I don't think I could take it. People get worked up over the smallest shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, 2:30-close Guest Service tonight and I hope the kiosks are fixed, and I'm sure they will be, but you never know. We are probably going to be there late tonight which I am not looking forward to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-117113422261489423?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/117113422261489423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=117113422261489423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/117113422261489423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/117113422261489423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/02/blah-kind-of-day.html' title='Blah Kind Of Day'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-117100653738827007</id><published>2007-02-08T23:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T23:35:37.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Should Be Interesting</title><content type='html'>So Wednesday was a SLOW night and I didn't train so there was 2 of us at Guest Service... We barely needed one person, but I'm fun and made it fun so it wasn't too bad, just boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But upon arrival to work, I was bombarded with my 'itinerary' for Friday when I work. So from 12-1 I'm at Guest Service, then 1-3 I'm training, then 3-7 I'm the mid-head cashier. So yeah. It's especially interesting because I'll be the head cashier (or GSTL for the Targeteers) when I wasn't properly hired nor trained nor paid to do the position, AND it's pretty much illegal in the Target sense. I'll be doing the work of my supervisor for the pay of a peon like me. As I said, it should be interesting. Oh believe me, I know what to do, but still... And if Target sees this and wants to go on the warpath, Be. My. Guest. I don't mind because I'm still going to be with another GSTL and I doubt they'll give me keys to get change, so I'll pretty much be doing nothing. And I know I should care because I'm being 'taken advantage of' but at this point I don't care. Que sera, sera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Training, oh training. What would I do without it? Oh yeah, help guests. Maybe I do like training more than I let on. ;) Although we do get interrupted quite often. What people don't understand about a group of red and khaki standing around ONE register while the light is OFF and clearly hear me talking about the fucking system is beyond me, but yes I can call someone to find out about your cabinet that you're going to buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I pretty much work my ass off this whole weekend, closing Saturday (we should be there FOREVER) and then cashiering on Saunday. Love my life right now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and a big thank you for "Behind the Counter" for linking me on their page. They are also linked on my page, and I HIGHLY reccommend a viewing. Very funny and relatable stuff. Just don't forget about me. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-117100653738827007?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/117100653738827007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=117100653738827007' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/117100653738827007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/117100653738827007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/02/this-should-be-interesting.html' title='This Should Be Interesting'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-117087627709117102</id><published>2007-02-07T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T11:24:37.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here It Goes Again</title><content type='html'>So after having this past weekend off, I'm about to get thrown back into the swing of things at the Target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like every Wednesday night, I'm training new people how to cashier. I can train someone in on Target's POS (Point of sale, or piece of shit sometimes) in under 2 hours. The system is just too easy, but it never fails that we have the 'deer in the headlights' look whenever I train. I don't blame them, it IS a lot of information and they are nervous, I know I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But next Wednesday (Valentine's Day) I'm training too. Could we not have taken a week off for the sake of the 'holiday'? I mean who wants to get hired somewhere and then end up cashier-training on Valentine's Day. I, myself, don't care because there's no one waiting for me when I get home, but for others, come on. "Oh I'd love to take you out for dinner, but I'm cashier training tonight at Target." That would be great to hear. Maybe I'll let them have candy or something. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I finally got scheduled for a cashier shift. After about 3 months of only Guest Service shifts, I get thrown back into cashiering. Oh joy. So I'll get to enjoy the day long backaches once again, and stupid people that can't decide which transaction to put their Snickers bar on. And people that argue with what the price is, how to bag something, and then take forever to pay. I just can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I suppose I better get ready for work and get ready for more of the same with training tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-117087627709117102?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/117087627709117102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=117087627709117102' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/117087627709117102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/117087627709117102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/02/here-it-goes-again.html' title='Here It Goes Again'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-116977308132670557</id><published>2007-01-25T16:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T16:58:01.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What is up?</title><content type='html'>So this 'return season' has been much worse than any other previous year. We've had more people blow up about our return policy than ever before. It's getting kinda scary. They either have their receipt or they are an ASSHOLE. Recently one lady was just yelling at us, telling us to "make an exception" because she had a baby shower and already used her 2. No. I wish I could just argue with these people. So just because you had a fucking baby entitles you to more than 2? No. But that's enough bitching about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except for when they throw out the whole, "What about the saying the customer is always right?" One lady asked me that, and I didn't say a thing because there was nothing nice to say. I've noticed that customers only say that when they are very, very wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some other woman told me how she went to a customer service seminar (ooh, how special) and they told her that if you quote the policy, that it means that it means more than the customer. And then she gave me this, 'What do you think about that?' look. I looked at her and just said, "I'm paid TO state the policy." Hey retard, I work in returns and abide by the fucking policy, you want to get around it and wonder why you can't, I'm gonna fucking state the policy. Maybe I need my own seminar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then on Wednesday, I cashier trained not once, but twice...and almost a 3rd time. The second time was with a exec who has been cashier-trained SO MANY TIMES but just doesn't get on a lane and do it. So I went through everything, and she was asking me questions about what my supervisors do, and of course I don't know all those details because, guess what? I'm not a supervisor. That whole day was a bit much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyways, I'll be working this weekend, and it brings out the worst in people, so I'm sure it will be another Bitch and Asshole Parade with many stops at Guest Service.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-116977308132670557?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/116977308132670557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=116977308132670557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116977308132670557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116977308132670557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-is-up.html' title='What is up?'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-116863418830206172</id><published>2007-01-12T12:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T12:36:28.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a new job</title><content type='html'>And you probably agree with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there were no monsters so to speak to deal with since the nasty bitch on Sunday, but it seems like more and more shit annoys the hell out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so these Canadians come up to page their friend. So I page Donna Miller to Guest Service. Canadians, more so than other people, are so impatient. 30 seconds later the old wheezebag comes back up and says, "Page her again, you made it sound like DON Miller, she might not know it was her." So I get on the overhead thing AGAIN and enunciate Donna like you wouldn't believe. I was working with Amanda and she said she heard Donna the first time. We both rolled our eyes because we love Canadians so much. Well they come back up complaining that their friend isn't coming up. We give them this 'Well I don't control the universe' look and they go looking for her. Well they come back about 5 minutes later with their friend Don-na and bitch at us because Donna couldn't hear the page in Food Avenue, and I told them it's because it doesn't go overhead in Food Ave. They all started complaining as they left. Amanda said it perfectly when she said, "Invest in a fucking cell phone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that pissed me off is that this guest was returning some coffee mugs that were wrapped in tissue paper. That's fine, but the bag was also filled with extra tissue paper and the receipt was at the bottom of the bag. So the woman sets her bag down and just stares at me. I fucking HATE when people do this, they just toss their bag on the counter and stare at you like you should bust your ass to do their return. So I reach in the bag, and with every movement of the tissue paper, the receipt moves, so it's like a chase. All of which the woman is staring at me. Nevermind that the sign says 'Please have your reciept ready' and no that doesn't mean at the bottom of the bag, it should be in your fucking hand ready to give it to me. And so I do the return and that's that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I hate is when the guest doesn't say ANYTHING to you. "Is it defective?" Would you like it back on your card?" Those questions usually require a response. My favorite is when you combine the person that just stares at you AND says nothing. Saving the vocal cords to bitch someone out later? It's also fun when they don't say anything throughout the entire transaction, but tell you only after you finish that it's not what they want. "I don't want it back on my card!" And you couldn't have told me when I asked you if you wanted it on the card!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this woman returning white wilted roses. Reason for return? "My husband bought me white ones, but I like red. Can I do an exchange?" She had her reciept so it's not like I could say no, but honestly? If my future wife exchanged flowers because she didn't like the fucking color, I would backhand her. Not really, but still. What a self-centered twat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there were more topics I wanted to cover, but in one shift, you deal with a lot of shit. I like the comparison of working Guest Service is like being the eye of a hurricane. You stay calm while all the chaos occurs around you. I stole that comparison from "Behind the Counter", check it out in my links section. It's from another Customer Service person, but at Wal-mart. Gasp! it's very entertaining.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-116863418830206172?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/116863418830206172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=116863418830206172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116863418830206172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116863418830206172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-need-new-job.html' title='I need a new job'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-116830572568837121</id><published>2007-01-08T16:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T17:22:05.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>6 Day Spree Finally Over</title><content type='html'>And out with a bang it went! Every single day except for Sunday, for reasons only known to assholes, was dead. Sunday was quite the other story. We have 6 registers at Guest Service and all of them were full at one point AND we still had a huge line. And apparently the nice people stayed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to this one bitch I dealt with. So this old lady comes up and the first thing out of her mouth is, "You get to deal with me today." I think, 'Oh great, this shall be interesting' but I wasn't too concerned because I saw that she had her receipt. Boy, was I wrong. So she puts a boxed phone on the counter and goes into some story about how she bought the wrong phone, and somehow started talking about how she had bought a TV at Target a while ago and when she opened it, there was only a VCR in it. She was then bitching that the phone-in-a-box that she was returning looked opened, and that the employee put the wrong phone in her bag. So, being the retail drone that I am, I simply ask, "Is there anything wrong with the phone?" She yells, and I mean YELLS, "WERE YOU JUST NOT LISTENING TO ME!?" The head cashier was putting coins in my till and she just had these big eyes. Blanka was working on the till right next to me and she burst out laughing. The guy behind this bitch said, "Whoa!" So I give her an evil look, and say/yell, "Did you want to return it then?" She yells, "WELL OF COURSE!" And I say, "Then I need a receipt." I do the return and credit her card, and after I'm done, she asks again, "Did you not listen to anything I said?" I simply looked at her, and said, "Have a nice day!" But honestly, she did not say one thing pertaining to the quality of the phone. The box looked like it was opened, so I asked if there was anything wrong with it because THAT'S WHAT WE DO! Normal people just say no, there is never a need to be a total bitch about it. I remember everything she said to me, but what the fuck does a TV have to do with the phone you plopped onto the counter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also had another bitch on a previous day. This woman wants to return a Barbie play dress. Well, it doesn't have the barcode on it, and she doesn't have her receipt, so we tell her she needs to go back to Toys and find the exact same thing, and we'll see what we can do for her. So she brings the dress with the barcode up and we attempt a receipt look-up using a plethora of her cards. We can't find it on there, which brings us to the no-receipt return policy. Well the dress had been clearanced down to $10.48 and she would have to exchange it for another item in Toys for that price or greater. She throws a shit fit. She starts bitching about how we are ripping her off, and that the peg that it was on said $17.99, and how the receipt look-up was wrong. Well we called Sharon up, and she told her the same thing. But the lady was freaking out, and wanted to show someone what peg it was on. So Sharon does the return and puts it on a giftcard (a big no-no by the way) and went back with her. Well, the dresses on the peg in question were a completely different dress, but the lady continued to freak out saying that it was still a Barbie dress. I don't know what else was said, but Sharon said she was glad to see her go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the VPWT (VERY poor white trash) wanders into our store from Wal-mart and it isn't pretty. Well, some Job Service-esque type company gave this woman a $50 voucher to Target to get some decent interview clothes. It even said what she needed to buy; stuff like black pants, nice shirt, etc. Well this Mr. Yuck sticker contender got what she wanted, but it only came out to be $40ish. She, being trashy, wanted the rest in cash. They said they couldn't do that, and the woman flipped out and she was swearing up a storm. She left saying that it was "fucking ridiculous!" Well she comes in the next day, and started bitching that we didn't put the stuff on hold for her, and that she couldn't find what she was going to get anymore, so she tried buying slippers and food with it, and they told her no obviously. Again she swore up a storm and huffed her way out of the store. Any wonder why this woman can't get a job!? I think it's a bit past what she wears...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this no-receipt return policy, Target only allows a person 2 no receipt returns or exchanges per year. It's technically supposed to be 2 items, but we can usually put a few items onto one transaction (although we aren't supposed to) just to be nice. That niceness wore out for me on Sunday. First there was this one woman who went to another employee and when she found out she could only return 2 of her 4 items, she threw them all her her cart and stormed out. She THREW them in her cart! Like the items bounced in the fucking cart!&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this other guy who I had the 'pleasure' of dealing with. He exchanging blinds, and he goes to get the ones he wants. When he comes back, I ask if he has a receipt. He says no, and I ask him how he paid for them. He says, "I don't know." And then I say, "Well if you paid by credit card, debit card, or check we can try looking it up." He says, "I just want to do an exchange." And little asshole me snaps back, "Well Target requires a receipt for all returns and exchanges, would you like me to try your credit card?" "No! I just want to do an exchange!" So I tell him that Target only allows 2 no receipt returns/exchanges per year and that he would use up both of them. If he weren't an asshole I would have done them on one transaction, but this ass didn't deserve it. He goes into a tirade about how he's never shopping here again, and that he'll just go to Wal-mart from now on because it's 'less of a hassle'. Good-fuckin'-bye! Honestly, why is it so hard to hang onto a receipt!? And why is it SUCH a hassle to let me try to look up your receipt? Fuck! That's fine! I'm sure Wal-mart would love to have your piss poor attitude in their store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm glad it's over, and I have a whopping 2 days off. Woo hoo... Anyways, after this holiday season, I'm glad to get back into school because it means I'll be spending less time at the HELLHOLE. And if I get into my program, this will be my last few months of retail... We shall see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-116830572568837121?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/116830572568837121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=116830572568837121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116830572568837121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116830572568837121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/01/6-day-spree-finally-over.html' title='6 Day Spree Finally Over'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-116785323260185261</id><published>2007-01-03T11:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T11:40:32.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No changes</title><content type='html'>Well, as I said earlier it was my lonely little self up at Guest Service yesterday, just over a week after Xmas and it was (surprise!) still busy. I get there at 2:30, and of course it's a fucking mess. I'd hate to see what GS looks like when I don't work because I swear I'm the only one over there with an attention to cleanliness. There was shit all over the counters, and the others aren't entirely to blame because there was always a line of people, but what I do is just ignore the line of people when I'm cleaning up the mess. They waited this long to return their shit, they can wait a few seconds more. Well, in no time I'm pissed off because it's just me and it's really busy. I'm pressing the back-up button constantly and when someone comes up to help, it helps a little until they leave and then it gets even busier. A never ending suckfest cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are still crabby as ever and it's getting old. I don't even empathize with people anymore. In fact I don't care. I'm especially sick of reciting the no-receipt return policy, and then having people ask, "Can't I just get a giftcard?" No, you dumb fuck, if it were an option, I would have said so, do you think I like telling morons like you the whole policy ordeal? As you can see I'm a little bitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite thing to do is when another employee brings random shit up to GS. I don't read minds so I don't know what you want me to do with this one mitten, because it's going in the garbage. I love throwing shit away. I'm sorry, but if you don't tell me what to do with it, and I can't figure it out, it goes in the garbage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I have 5 more straight days of work, and then I start class again, so really the only "break" I got was when I went to my cousin's wedding this past weekend. Woohoo... I've been working otherwise. Well, I better go run my errands before work, because I'll have no other time to do it with all this work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-116785323260185261?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/116785323260185261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=116785323260185261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116785323260185261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116785323260185261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2007/01/no-changes.html' title='No changes'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-116732779112722574</id><published>2006-12-28T09:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T09:43:11.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Steaming like a pile of shit</title><content type='html'>We were understaffed SO bad yesterday. Donna worked 8-3, Amanda 10-6:30, me 4:30-close, and Whitney 5:30-9:30. They even had to pull Tyler from the lanes to help us because it was fucking nuts. So I get there at 4:30 and the place is a complete mess, like a bomb went off. So instantly I'm pissed because I can't stand a mess up at Guest Service when there is no need for one. Some people up there just don't put things where they belong right away, for example, if something is defective they defect it out, but don't walk 5 steps to put it in the bin. So shit just keeps piling up. So when I get there, I don't help any guests at first, I just focus on cleaning up. Then Amanda goes on lunch shortly after and Tyler ran somewhere so I was the only one at Guest Service. And because it's so busy, there was a line of about 10 people with more adding on to it. So I press the back-up button, and people come...unfortunately they are semi-trained so I'm basically on three registers at once. Our ETL-GE (Executive Team Lead - Guest Experience) is our direct manager and he does not know much about Guest Service, which is fucking annoying. So I have to tell him what to do, and I come off as an asshole because I'm frustrated, but whatever. I honestly did not care if I got a complaint that day because I would have told them that the reason I was pissy was because of their inability to schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's even worse today, Donna again works 8-3, I work 12-8:30, and Blanka works 2:30-close. Maggie, one of the GSTLs (Guest Service Team Lead), was wondering what the fuck Sharon (the GSTL that does the front end schedule) was doing in only scheduling 3 people 3 days after Christmas. Sharon officially sucks at life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the Round-up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a guy trying to return a pair of jeans with his receipt. So I go to do it and it says that the jeans have already been returned from that receipt. So I ask him if he returned or exchanged them previously. He says no, but said that they were ringing up wrong so they changed the price. What we do is do a return and rebuy at the lower price and staple the new receipt onto the original. Well he tore that new one off for whatever reason. So I tell him I need that receipt and he freaks out saying it was our mistake and he's not leaving until he does his exchange. So I try doing a no-receipt exchange but he has already used his 2 that Target allows each person per year. Great. So I tell him I need that exchange receipt and he continues to freak out. So I just get Maggie to deal with him, and he eventually leaves. But honestly, why would you take the stapled receipt off the original?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And somehow, people believe that just because I work for a store that it makes it OK for them to treat me like a sub-human. I would never treat anyone the way some people treat me. It's disgusting actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I guess I better get off to Satan's lair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-116732779112722574?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/116732779112722574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=116732779112722574' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116732779112722574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116732779112722574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/12/steaming-like-pile-of-shit.html' title='Steaming like a pile of shit'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-116717231845526375</id><published>2006-12-26T14:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-26T14:31:58.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a day!</title><content type='html'>OK, so it's been awhile... I always seem to do this, do one post and then disappear for a few months. I'm busy, what can I say. I will try to do this more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, looking at the day, you see that it is the day after Christmas. What a fun day for Guest Service! Surprisingly it was dead until about noon and then it was just crazy. Every person walking by was saying, "Oh I thought you'd be busier." No shit, so did we. Well it was a good thing because we were definitely understaffed today, but it worked out alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was there right away at 7 am! So fun! But there was a total of three of us there at opening and then I got pulled to fill giftcards on the front lanes. We had to throw all the old ones, and replace them with new ones. Not fun, but better than getting yelled at by guests. There are some pretty cool new giftcards, so check them out next trip to the bullseye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't really have any VERY rude people, but some people just didn't get it. If they had a gift receipt, some people demanded cash. It says right on the gift receipt that you will get a giftcard back. But no, some people had to argue with us. We also had people arguing with us about not having a receipt and the whole policy concerning that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a Canadian freak out at me and here's what happened:&lt;br /&gt;So he's waiting in line of about 3 people. At that time there was 5 of us at Guest Service so it's about a 30 second wait. Well I get the pleasure of helping him, and like every other Canadian, asks what the exchange rate is and I tell him it's 1.20. Don't ask me what it means, I have no idea. (Well, actually I kinda do, but whatever) Then he pulls out some Canadian cash and asks to exchange it. I say, "I'm sorry but we don't exchange money here, but you can use the paper money at the lanes to purchase your items." The guy freaks out yelling, "You should have a sign that says that so we don't have to wait in this long line!" Lona looks at me and just starts laughing which makes me start laughing. Thank god he already stormed off. OK, so you want a sign... Most people don't even read any signs, and even fewer Canadians read the signs when we DO have them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have the joy of closing both tomorrow (Wednesday) and Thursday, and then I have the weekend off. (Thank god) BUT, when I return I work Tues-Wed-Thurs-Fri-Sat, and I close BY MYSELF on Tues-Wed-Thurs. I don't know about you, but it's still going to be relatively busy that week because it is only the second week after Xmas. I'm probably going to be a tad pissy those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in other humorous news, the sight of people running into the store at 7 am to get Xmas clearance is hilarious. I'm surprised they didn't break the door like they did on Black Friday... Yep, you heard right, they broke the damn front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now if you read this and like it, bookmark it and comment. I'm sure I'll post more often when I know I have an audience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy returns!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-116717231845526375?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/116717231845526375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=116717231845526375' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116717231845526375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116717231845526375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/12/what-day.html' title='What a day!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-116226206371412433</id><published>2006-10-30T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T18:34:23.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick of the Bullshit</title><content type='html'>I just hate all of the Canadians...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One came up to Guest Service and wanted me to use the intercom and say, "John, we found him." And that's it. Sorry but no. That would be the most random thing in the world. Just imagine shopping in a busy store and having the intercom say, "John, we found him." I would be like 'What the fuck!?' She said that they were looking for someone and she just wanted to let them other person know that they found him. I told her no, but I could page the person to the front and tell them, but I don't do specialty pages. She freaked out and walked away pissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, the next day another Canadian came up to GS and wanted us to say, "John, your party will meet you at Kohl's." Um, no. We aren't a messenger system. We can page people up to the front, but we don't do specialty pages. Buy a fucking cell phone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was only part of the stupidity shown this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a Canadian argue with me when OUR Thanksgiving was. She was so certain that it was the 25th...Ok, but it's the 23rd this year. Then she was asking what was going to be on sale for the day after and what time the store opened. I should've told her that we open at 2 pm so all the nice, non-Canadian people can get the sales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were also asked, "Can I return something?" No, we just stand here to make other people look ugly...WTF?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Augh, this next weekend is going to suck...for one I close cashiering on Saturday and cashier on Sunday too! Super fun! It's also a Canadian holiday and so they will be down here in the thousands...It's not a pretty sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't take it anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-116226206371412433?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/116226206371412433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=116226206371412433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116226206371412433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/116226206371412433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/10/sick-of-bullshit.html' title='Sick of the Bullshit'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-115834099650055128</id><published>2006-09-15T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T10:23:16.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here Again</title><content type='html'>Well normally I write when I'm pissed off, and that is what I am. It's usually because of Canadians and this time is no different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was up at Guest Service giving Blanka her break, and this group of Canadian women come up. They want to return a lampshade, BUT (like usual) the receipt is expired. So I tell them that I wouldn't be able to use the receipt to do the return because it was expired, but they would be able to exchange it for another item in Housewares for $14.99 or greater. Well, the one woman used her 'baby' voice to talk to me, as if I was mentally challenged or something. She said, "Uh, I know that the receipt is expired, I saw that. But, we don't come down here often. We're from Canada." (I hate the 'but I'm from Canada' bit, but you already know this) I jumped in, "We have the same policy for everyone." They then asked if they could get a credit, and I told them no, that they had to do the exchange at Guest Service. Well, Blanka comes back from her break and I'm outta there. Well, when the bitches come back (I don't like being talked down to) and apparently they freaked the fuck out. They put up the biggest shit fit saying they want their money back and how our policy is "anti-Canada." Needless to say, they didn't get their way and they took their lampshade and left. Good riddance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my comments on the situation: The whole anti-Canada thing is complete bullshit. The return policy applies to every single person that buys something from Target. It would be anti-Canada if the policy explicitly stated that Canadians only had 60 days (or something like that) to return something. Is it Target's fault you don't get down here often? No. The return policy is on every lane, on the back of every receipt, and up at Guest Service. If you do not like the policy, or are unable to follow it, do not purchase anything. Don't expect to be an exception because of your situation. If I have to follow the policy, then you do too. It's not on a person-by-person basis. It is a consistent policy that is applied to everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting so sick of their entitlement issues. You are not an exception! It's getting to the point where I am arguing with them, partly because they are rude to begin with and secondly because they don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't believe it. There are so many other stories to tell when these people were absolutely rude, but I don't want to ruin the rest of my day by telling them. If I get this upset by telling them, imagine what it was like to go through it first-hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet another day tonight, so I will see ya'll later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-115834099650055128?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/115834099650055128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=115834099650055128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115834099650055128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115834099650055128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/09/here-again.html' title='Here Again'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-115567172458318153</id><published>2006-08-15T12:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T12:55:25.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Once again, I hate Canadians!</title><content type='html'>There are so many in town every single day now. What kind of jobs do these people have that they can be down here every day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I heard that Food Ave got 5 BUSES full of Canadians! Five buses! That is insane! Well of course they were rude. It got to a point that they were telling them the wait was 40 minutes simply because it's a snack bar that isn't equipped to handle a large mass of people. There is only room for 8 hamburgers on the grill (leaving no room for anything else), 4 single-serve fryers, and one microwave. And everyone was ordering pretty much everything off the menu, usually the whole group gets soup or burgers or whatever, but this time everyone was getting everything. Right after they were told it was going to be a 40 minute wait, they walked over to where you pick up your food and stood there expecting it to be ready. They gave them order numbers and the stupid fucks didn't know their number, so people that had just ordered were taking other people's food. There was a total of 8 employees over there at one time, and they still couldn't keep up. The Canadians also wiped out the deli because all of the pre-made salads and sandwiches are gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My question is, why don't you go to an actual restaurant!? They are equipped to handle a lot more people than the snack bar in Target can. There are 4 actual restaurants within walking distance of our store, and so many more if they would just drive one block down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And these people rarely buy anything from the actual store. All they do is eat and leave. Why are you stopping at Target to EAT!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they told some of the Canadians to tell the bus tour director that they need to call at least 30 minutes before they get to the store so that they can prepare for all the people. I doubt they will tell them because Canadians are self-centered assholes. So the next time we get buses, we are gonna write down the bus company they are with, and call them to tell them that they NEED to call if they are stopping to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been asked so many times if we exchange money. NO! As far as I know we haven't done that for YEARS! And yet, it never fails I am asked at least once a day if we exchange money. One day I had a short shift and was asked over 30 times. It was bad. It's to the point where I just say no. Usually I tell them no, but that we take their paper money at the tills, but after being asked so many times I just said no. One even asked if we exchanged at par. Ok, this means if they gave us $20 Canadian that we would hand them $20 US, and then he bitched that we used to do it. Uh, no. Why would a business take a loss on their money just because they want Canadians to shop in their store? That is the stupidest thing I ever heard. Then there was this guy who bitched that the exchange rate was better in Canada. Well then exchange your money at home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also had a Canadian that wanted to return something, but he only had his receipt. Yes, he wanted us to return an item off his receipt and he promised he would mail the item to us. And he didn't understand why we couldn't. Ok...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I cashier today and I'm sure I'll hate every minute of it like usual.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-115567172458318153?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/115567172458318153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=115567172458318153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115567172458318153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115567172458318153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/08/once-again-i-hate-canadians.html' title='Once again, I hate Canadians!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-115324374092266535</id><published>2006-07-18T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T10:29:01.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday Was a Bit Much</title><content type='html'>Oh my, I was surprised because it was only a Monday, but there were a lot of assholes. It was really fucking busy for no reason at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there was this woman who asked me what the address was. I start to say 3601...and she interrupts me asking which direction is 2505 on the same road. I didn't know for sure so I told her that I didn't know. She freaks the fuck out and storms out of the store. Ok, I'm not a fucking city guide, I am employed by Target to do returns and exchanges, not ot tell you where something is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this BITCHY ASS Canadian. She had a microwave and a receipt that expired in January. So we weren't able to use her receipt to do the return. And the microwave wasn't in our system anymore so there was nothing we could do for her at the store level. She kept screaming, "BUT I'M FROM CANADA!!" She kept saying that she doesn't get down here often and blah blah blah. No matter what we said, all she kept saying was that she was from Canada as if it would make us throw money at her for that excuse. So she asked for my supervisor and Renae came up and told her the same exact thing. Some more 'but I'm from Canada's' were said and the bitch asked for the manager. So Roberta came up and surprisingly told her the same exact thing. She also had her call Guest Relations which told her the same exact thing. The Canadian said before she left that this event makes her not want to buy anything 'like this' at Target because she wouldn't be able to return it. So don't buy anything here if you won't be able to make it down here within the 90 days. My favorite part of this train wreck was that before anything happened, she put her shit on the counter and said, "The receipt is old, but I know you can do this return." This is what pisses me off about Canadians, they think they are entitled to everything. If I only have 90 days to return something, why should you be any different? Being from Canada ISN'T an excuse! You saw the policy was 90 days when you purchased the item, and when you shop in a store you basically agree to all policies that the store has. But, just because these people are Canadian, they somehow think they are above any rule we have here in 'the States.' You are not an exception! Act like a responsible adult or go home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this one woman who called me on the phone and asked if she could return some tortilla shells. I said that as long as she had a valid receipt she could. She got all bitchy and said, "Well I don't want to come in there and not be able to return it." Did you just not fucking listen to me!? I said you could, and why would I lie to you? So you can be an even bigger bitch when you get here? Use your fucking brains people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got pissed off because this woman returned an air mattress and pump one day before the receipt would expire. I asked her if anything was wrong with it, and there wasn't. This would be fine if it was never opened, but it was opened and shoved into the box. How fucking tacky and classless. You buy an item, use it up to the return date, and return it. I almost denied the return. We obviously can't sell it again. I fucking hate people that do this. This is why prices rise people! We are not a fucking rental agency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to close tonight and I'm sure it will be the same. I don't know why but our weekdays are busier than our weekends. It fucking sucks and people have a piss-poor attitude. Ugh, whatever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-115324374092266535?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/115324374092266535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=115324374092266535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115324374092266535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115324374092266535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/07/yesterday-was-bit-much.html' title='Yesterday Was a Bit Much'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-115203845451860586</id><published>2006-07-04T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T11:40:55.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me + Cart Attending = Never Again</title><content type='html'>Well, yesterday was an interesting day to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened Guest Service and because Canadians have the first Monday of every month off, it was busy. But, the morning cart attendant didn't show up, so they had me do it at 12:30. So I learned how to use the cart machine, and it wasn't that bad. The only thing that sucked was that it was really busy and hard to keep up with all of the carts. I was on top of it in the beginning and then around 2 it was too busy to keep up with it. Then at 3:15 the cart pusher died, and all hell broke loose. It was SO busy and without the cart pusher, you can't push many carts in without losing all control of them. So I brought in about 5 at a time and it wasn't even enough to keep up with the amount of traffic. Then at 4, I was physically done. I was so out of energy that I needed to sit down for a half hour and that didn't even recharge me. I have so much respect for the cart attendants and hope that I never have to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I still had an asshole Canadian before I went and did that. A guy came up to Guest Service and asked to exchange some money. Well, as you all know, we don't but they can use the paper money at the tills. He flipped. He said, "You know, I'm finding it harder and harder to spend my money down here. Best Buy won't even take Canadian money, and other places don't exchange it! Do you know where I can exchange my money around here?" I told him he could go to a bank, and he interrrupted me yelling, "I don't live here! I don't know where any banks are!" So I told them there were a few around the mall a half block away and they left. Here's my thing: Why are you so upset that places don't take/exchange your money? We don't have to because it's not our currency! This is the United Fucking States of America and the only legal tender is the US dollar. Secondly, there are plenty of banks in town! Just because you don't know where one is isn't an excuse. We have 5 major roads in our city that you can use to get anywhere and there is multiple banks on every road. I hope the Canadians have went home because this OUR holiday and I hope I can enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about this cart attending: THE CARTS ARE NOT GARBAGE CANS! Fuck everyone that throws their trash into carts. It's rude! Also, put your carts in the damn cart corrals! That'e what they are there for! And don't get do fucking impatient when I block the pathway for a brief second. You had a cart when you shopped, how the fuck do you think they get in the store!? Just be patient, it will only take me a minute at most. Also, when I'm moving carts, don't jaunt out in front of me. It's harder to stop hundreds of pounds of carts than it is for you to wait your fucking turn. And I'm done with my rant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I work 4-close in Guest Service and it's usually dead after 6 because everyone thinks we're closed. Hopefully I can get out in time to go downtown and watch the fireworks, but I doubt it because it's Target and it will be a cold day in hell before they let us out before 11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping the Canadians are gone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 230th Birthday USA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-115203845451860586?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/115203845451860586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=115203845451860586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115203845451860586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115203845451860586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/07/me-cart-attending-never-again.html' title='Me + Cart Attending = Never Again'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-115181799687595161</id><published>2006-07-01T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-01T22:26:36.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck!</title><content type='html'>Well, it was busy as all shit today and I'm glad I don't work tomorrow. There were plenty of asshole Canadians and some stupid ones too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, there was this one Canadian woman who opened a carbonated water and it exploded all over. I saw the whole thing happen. Her friend then came over to Guest Service and asked for a Kleenex, but we didn't have any so I gave her a shitload of paper towels. So her friend gave her the paper towel, the woman wiped off her hands and left. Yep, she left the fucking puddle that she made and left. So I had to walk over there and clean it up. WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND THINKS IT'S OK TO LEAVE A FUCKING MESS YOU CREATED!? Oh that's right, the fucking Canadians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was people who were returning shit, but it wasn't on the receipt they gave me. This one Canadian (go figure) couple were YELLING at me swearing up and down that their receipt was the only one from that day and that it HAD to be on there. Well it wasn't. I finally just got sick and tired of it and so I just returned whatever one they said was on there. Then they said, "Oh did you get it to work?" And I said, "No, it's not on your receipt, but I'll do it anyway." in the bitchiest tone ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet another dumb question asked by yet another Canadian: "Do you guys carry any Nashville t-shirts or souvineers?" Ok, that could be a legitimate question had we been in Tennessee, BUT we are in NORTH DAKOTA here! Yeah, we have random shit from all over the country. WTF!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm SO glad I don't work tomorrow, but the fucktards have Monday off too, and I open GS. I hope they all fucking leave on Monday so I can enjoy my country's holiday. The last thing I need is to have it pissed on by the fucking Canadians.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-115181799687595161?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/115181799687595161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=115181799687595161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115181799687595161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115181799687595161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/07/fuck.html' title='Fuck!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-115170621425977627</id><published>2006-06-30T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T15:23:34.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My Dear Lord</title><content type='html'>Yesterday wasn't &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; bad, but there were just some grumpy-ass people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This woman comes up to Guest Service asking where the nearest place that sells fireworks is. Well, they aren't in the city, so I give her a general direction as I don't know exactly what road it is on. She got pissed at me! She just said she'll go to a different one that is further away. Sorry! I'm not your fucking travel guide!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, Laura at the photo lab was going to go on her lunch so I was going to watch from Guest Service. The minute she walked away, the stupid Kodak picture makers printers ran out of ribbon. Well, it takes about 5 minutes to change both of them, so I was doing that. Then a billion people came up to GS and the photo lab, so I went over to GS to push the back-up button so more people would come up. Well, one bitch in line yelled, "Where the hell is he going?" I turned around and gave her the dirtiest look ever. What the fuck people!? Either you wait 20 minutes until I can help everyone, or shut the fuck up and let me call someone to help out. Christ!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this woman who wanted to return something with a receipt that expired in August 2005! Yeah, almost a year ago. And this lady was completely shocked that I couldn't do anything for her. 90 days, not 900.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to today. Holy fucking shit! It was busier than a Saturday! I have no fucking idea why either. Well, I do. People that are hopefully leaving for the weekend came in today, and the Canadians are getting into town for their fucking long weekend. What country gives everyone the first Monday of every month off? Oh yeah, retard Canada. It wouldn't be so bad if they stayed in their own fucking country, but no they have to come here and mess EVERYTHING up. Fuck them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow will probably be worse because it is a Saturday, and I close Guest Service. I am really hoping the Canadians leave on Monday and don't ruin the 4th on Tuesday. MY HOLIDAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what better place to spend Canada Day then the United States. Uh, shouldn't you stay home and celebrate? And what the fuck is Canada Day for anyway? Is it to celebrate how fucking dumb they are? Hell I'll drink to that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-115170621425977627?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/115170621425977627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=115170621425977627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115170621425977627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115170621425977627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/06/oh-my-dear-lord.html' title='Oh My Dear Lord'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-115151604824133066</id><published>2006-06-28T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T10:34:08.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heading Back In</title><content type='html'>Well, I just had a week off to celebrate my birthday, and to get away from Target. Well today I head back into work. I am so not looking forward to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was bitching up a storm before I left because I was getting screwed out of my Guest Service hours. Then, all of a sudden they give me nothing but Guest Service hours, so that's what you get when you bitch, everything you want. I'm super excited to get treated like shit again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm back in Guest Service, I'm sure there will be PLENTY of stories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-115151604824133066?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/115151604824133066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=115151604824133066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115151604824133066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115151604824133066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/06/heading-back-in.html' title='Heading Back In'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-115015242982319980</id><published>2006-06-12T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T15:47:09.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Here</title><content type='html'>Well, things WERE going semi-well since my last post, but it has just exploded into more shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most recent story I have heard is that a Canadian ordered popcorn from our dear Food Ave. The Canadian tasted it and THREW IT AT THE EMPLOYEE claiming it wasn't fresh. Ok, there wasn't a better way to say you didn't like it? You had to throw it!? If I had been working, I would have went around the counter, shoved a broom up theit ass, and make them sweep it up. Who the fuck in their right mind throws shit at people? Oh that's right, Canadians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this woman who had a question at Guest Service. She said she had called a general Target number and they told her that she could fill her prescription at any Target store that had a pharmacy. Ok, Target's in our state cannot have pharmacies because of a state law that says they have to be locally owned, so our store doesn't have one. She asks what she should do. Umm, I don't fucking know, I can't pull a pharmacy out of my ass! So I tell her that maybe she can try going to another pharmacy, and she yells, "NO! My prescription is through Target!" I told her I didn't know what to tell her, and she said, "I NEED my medicine, I guess I'll just go have a stroke then!" And left. Even other guests were saying they thought she was a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have been over in the photo lab for some of my shifts, and sometimes it's dead, and other times it is really fucking busy. Well, one Saturday morning I was by myself until 1pm. It was supposed to be really dead on Saturday. Well, it was up until 10 or so. Then all hell broke loose. One of the Kodak Picture Makers ran out of the ribbon, and I had no idea how to change it, so I was attempting to do that. Then people kept dropping off one hour film so I was trying to keep up with that. I eventually found what I needed to replace the ribbon, then the paper runs out in the printer. That you have to do right away so it doesn't slow everything down. So I did that. Then I replaced the ribbon in the KPM. I thought I was caught up until the CD readers on the KPMs didn't read CDs. I don't know how the hell to fix them, so she said she would come back. I didn't have time because there were people picking up and dropping off film. Then the other printer roll ran out so I had to do that. Then the other KPM printer ran out of the ribbon so I had to do that too. The woman came back and I told her I didn't get a chance, but she could try sending them over yahoo to our store to print. It was a mess of a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So recently, I have only been scheduled 4:30-close on Wednesday nights in Guest Service. They are pretty much using me to do that shift because I'm the only one available. That pisses me off because it's the ONLY SHIFT I GET up there. I am the best person over there, and have been told that by many people. And yet, they schedule the newbies over there when I'm cashiering the same day. Oh, it pisses me off. So I get sick of it and go talk to Sharon. I ask fo rmore hours over there and they are trying to spread the hours out over there so that everyone has a chance to be up there. Ok, that would be an acceptable answer if they actually spread around the hours, which they don't. So I do some investigative reporting and Amanda has 5 shifts that week, and they ARE ALL GUEST SERVICE! What the fuck!? And the week after that she has 5 shifts and 4 of them are Guest Service. When I saw that, I almost exploded with anger. Don't fucking tell me you are spreading around the hours when you clearly aren't. That next week I only have 2 shifts and both of them are photo lab. Then again I did take the other 5 days off. It's a vacation from their bullshit. When I get back I better have a shitload of Guest Service or else I will have a shitfit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I really have to say. I only have 4 shifts these next 2 weeks so I'm excited to get away from all the drama and bullshit that is Target.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-115015242982319980?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/115015242982319980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=115015242982319980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115015242982319980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/115015242982319980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/06/still-here.html' title='Still Here'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114819208417305962</id><published>2006-05-20T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T23:14:44.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kill Me Now</title><content type='html'>OK, maybe I should just fucking rename this blog the I FUCKING HATE CANADIANS! blog because that's pretty much all I bitch about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's Victoria day on Monday so ALL of fucking Canada is down here shopping. So everyone at guest Service got bitched out three times over just because of nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there were so many asshole guests that I can't even remember them all. And I'm talking hardcore asshole guests. I wish I could just film what I deal with because I literally can't explain it with words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the major one that I can remember is about this one Canadian and her mom. Well the lady has a pair of kids shoes, doesn't have her receipt (go figure she's a fucking Canadian) and paid cash for them. So the only option that leaves us is to do a no receipt exchange, so she would have to exchange the shoes for another pair of shoes that were $12.99 or greater. Her and her mom argued with us for at least 30 minutes. I can't even tell you what they said because the kept repeating themselves and they didn't have a point. They had NO proof that they had purchased the shoes, and yet were "apalled" that they couldn't get cash back. Our return policy states CLEARLY that we need a receipt for ALL returns and exchanges. The fact that we are letting you exchange it for another pair of shoes is a courtesy to you, even though it may be strict. Maybe we should start out saying we can't do the return, and then letting them exchange it for another item in the same department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then AFTER the store closed. This woamn comes walking in the exit door (the only one open) and I tell her the store is closed. There were other guests leaving but we were close to locking that door. So I told her no that she couldn't do her shopping, and she fucking argued with me. She just said she had to get diapers (which were all the way across the store) and I wasn't in the mood so I tell her no, the store is closed. She asks again, and I just got sick of it and told her to do it if she really wanted to. She said she did, but I didn't see her go into the store. I think I'll get a complaint about my attitude, but the store was fucking closed. We are people too and we want to go home. Why should we hold up 30 team members for you? Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I work 1:30-close in GS again and it will be worse. Sundays are the absolute worst day for returns because Canadians can't make up their fucking minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canadians are Eh-Holes. haha get it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114819208417305962?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114819208417305962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114819208417305962' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114819208417305962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114819208417305962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/05/kill-me-now.html' title='Kill Me Now'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114788961252223595</id><published>2006-05-17T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T11:13:32.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Bitch</title><content type='html'>So me and Amanda were working at Guest Service on Monday when this crazy methed-out bitch that is always difficult when she comes in. Well, she was returning some things and had the receipt. She started talking about how she wanted cash back, but it was purchased with a Visa card. So the only thing we can do is put it back on the Visa or on a giftcard. So she said she wanted a giftcard. So Amanda accidentily put it on the Visa, and so she called the head cashier to do the void. The woman just got all pissy. Then when the head cashier got up there the woman just started bitching. So she did the void and they put it on the giftcard. Karen, the head cashier, was just telling her that the giftcard doesn't have an expiration date and to not lose it because it is treated like cash. The woman freaks out saying that "obviously" she wouldn't lose it. Then she started bitching that she wanted it back onto her Visa, but it wasn't the one used on the receipt. I told the woman that we could only put it onto the card originally used. Then she started bitching that she wanted it onto the Visa and that we didn't tell her about that option. We're all looking at each other like 'What the fuck is she talking about?' So Karen freaked out on her asking why she was up there if that's what she got in the first place. So she finally took the giftcard and then started bitching about something that wasn't even her business. I was doing a registry return using their registry to give them a giftcard. She butts in like it's her business about how she had to exchange something when she didn't have a receipt. We tell her it's a different situation and finally she left. As she was talking, every sentence had the word 'obviously' in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So kids, there you have it, don't do meth and attempt a return at Target.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114788961252223595?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114788961252223595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114788961252223595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114788961252223595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114788961252223595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/05/crazy-bitch.html' title='Crazy Bitch'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114770851209120453</id><published>2006-05-15T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T08:55:12.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Weekend</title><content type='html'>I hate weekends like this past one. So many rude people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I opened at Guest Service on Saturday and it was assholes galore. It seemed like everyone was out to bitch us out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First some guy wanted to return something in the Sporting Goods department that was $14.99. Well, he didn't have a receipt and paid cash so I told him he had to exchange it for one item in the same department for equal or greater value. Of course, no one listens, and he brought up 2 items. So I told him that he could only get one item and his 'roid rage came out full force. "Why? Why? Why?" after every fucking thing I said. I kept telling him that it was our policy and we need a receipt. Well he just wanted the one thing for $9.99 and so I just changed the $14.99 item down to $9.99 and did the exchange. He lost out $5, but that's what he wanted. Asshole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a guy was trying to return a book. He didn't have a receipt, and it was coming up 'Not on File.' That means we either don't carry it or it was clearanced out, so we would need a receipt to do anything. The guy freaks out, and said that we were ridiculous. Kaila and I laughed after the fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this woman who called from over 5 hours away. She said her relative was having a baby shower and she wanted to get them a high chair from our store and have them pick it up at our store. Well, due to security reasons, we don't accept credit card payments over the phone. I told her she could order it online and it would ship the item right to them. She bitched that she didn't want to pay shipping and said that a hacker could get her info online. So she said that she would "just call K-mart because they know customer service." Alrighty then. The thing that boggles my mind is that she would probably be the same person to bitch if her credit card were stolen and someone were trying to do the same thing she is. That's why we need you in the store to purchase something, otherwise people that steal credit cards would have this way of fucking people over. Another thing is, why would you give your credit card number to a complete stranger like myself? Of course I wouldn't do anything but shred it, but some people could take the same number and go crazy with it. Also, we need a signature for credit card payments to prove that it was them buying it. Without that signature, she could contest the fact that she authorized it, so she wouldn't have to pay and the couple would get a free high chair. What a scammer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this woman who had a pair of shoes she wanted to return. They were a gift, but she didn't get a gift receipt. They were over $10 so she had to exchange them for another pair of shoes for equal or greater value. She went into a tirade like I haven't seen in a while. She started bitching that she had "50 pairs of shoes in every color and style and didn't need another pair." We again told her that without a receipt, that's all we could do. So she asked for a manager and Lucy came up. Lucy was a bitch back to her saying that we need a receipt for all returns and exchanges. The lady said, "I'm moving up here, and I can guarantee you I will never shop here again." Fine by us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, I was the only Guest Service person (out of about 20) that was available to work. Since I can't work the whole day, they put Kayann up there. She is a complete idiot. She doesn't know what she's doing, but instead of asking, she just guesses. She was also very slow and didn't know what she was doing. I went and bitched out Chelsey saying that it wasn't fair to me, Kayann, or the guests that she was over there and they need to do a better job of watching people that take time off so this doesn't happen again. I was SO pissed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114770851209120453?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114770851209120453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114770851209120453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114770851209120453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114770851209120453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/05/bad-weekend.html' title='Bad Weekend'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114727990309036720</id><published>2006-05-10T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T09:51:43.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Lord</title><content type='html'>Well, our paper ran an article about how the Canadian exchange rate was so good and that Canadians were planning to come down here and shop. Just fucking great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is busy in town everyday of the fucking week now. I can't tell you how much I want to leave this city/area. When I get my degree, I'm getting as far away from Canada as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So onto my stories,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this Canadian who applied for a Target card and she got into an argument with me about how much she could save. The cashier told her 10% off (our usual) and she was a total bitch about it. She kept saying that “everywhere else” in town were offering her 20% off if she applied for a certain store’s card. I told her no, that it was only 10%. These people don’t fucking understand that we are all not the same store. It just reminds me of the time we got bitched out by a Canadian because the store next to us had a better exchange rate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we’re bored at Guest Service, we play “Spot the Canadian.” It is so obvious to tell just by looking at them. I’ve already mentioned their hair, the way they dress, fanny packs, and what they buy. You can also tell because groups of them review each other’s purchases right in front of the lanes. They also get really close to the belt with their wallet/purse like they are so excited to give you their money. They also like to put things in their cart and decide on it for sure when they get up to the checkout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be one interesting summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114727990309036720?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114727990309036720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114727990309036720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114727990309036720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114727990309036720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/05/dear-lord.html' title='Dear Lord'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114598952490587431</id><published>2006-04-25T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T11:25:24.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rollercoaster</title><content type='html'>Life at Target has been a rollercoaster the past month. There have been fun days, and there have been some bad ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I got my review. It's Target's stupid new thing where EVERY team member gets their raise in May. So since my last review was in November, I only get half of my raise to last a whole year. It all works out math-wise, but it still looks bad on paper. FYI, it was an 18 cent raise. Woohoo... So I'm at $8.48 an hour, which isn't bad concerning my job isn't too tedious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have been downright bitchy at our store lately. Even when I back-up at GS, I get yelled at. I told many people about the no receipt return/exchange policy where they need ONE item from the SAME department for equal or greater value, but so many people brought back up multiple items and then BITCHED me out because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, our store's system went down on Thursday so some features didn't work at GS. Like receipt look-up. Some people understood and weren't mad, but then there were some who just freaked the fuck out. I apologized for the inconvenience but bitching at me is not going to fix things any sooner. Even with a receipt, we had to type in the price of the item being returned, the VCD#, and if it was puchased on a credit card, we needed to swipe the card. It slowed us down a lot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to be quite busy in the next 2 weeks, so I may not post for a little bit. Hopefully I will get more time after these 2 weeks where I can go back to doing a few posts a week. I've just been too busy with school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'll keep you updated on the latest developments, and stay tuned for more hilarity. Hopefully I can think up another whole post to some memorable (dumbass/rude) guests.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114598952490587431?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114598952490587431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114598952490587431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114598952490587431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114598952490587431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/04/rollercoaster.html' title='Rollercoaster'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114447241948742208</id><published>2006-04-07T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T22:00:19.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate It!</title><content type='html'>So I'm just really pissed off right now. Mostly because I have mostly cashier shifts now. I FUCKING HATE CASHIERING! It's what I absolutely hate doing with a passion. It's probably because I told Sharon, on a day where we were so busy and so short-staffed, that I was sick of it. Not meaning Guest Service, but the way the store was being run at that point. Well, there goes my GS shifts and I couldn't be more pissed. When I work tomorrow, there will be hell to pay. I'm gonna tell them that if they keep that up, they'll be short a Guest Service Team Member. I would gladly transfer over the the photo lab despite my recent fuck-up over there, but they need people for the summer, and I'll gladly do it if they are gonna fuck me over like this. Oh, but I'm not to "bad" to have someone take my regular 4:30-close in GS on Wednesdays because no one else is available. Oh I just love getting used. I can't fucking take it any longer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114447241948742208?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114447241948742208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114447241948742208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114447241948742208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114447241948742208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-hate-it.html' title='I Hate It!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114370120167367701</id><published>2006-03-29T22:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T22:46:41.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Shit!</title><content type='html'>It was so fucking busy and full of asshole Canadians. I officially hate all of them and hope they get hit by a bus, and today only cemented that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so fucking busy at Guest Service, and then this woman comes up with a broken part of a birdbath. Well, she had put another one on hold, so I press the back-up button and go to get it. It is a huge fucking box that's heavier than Star Jones. I attempt to put it in a cart, but it was too heavy. So I walk back to GS to tell the guest that I am going to go to the backroom to get a flat so I can bring it out. There is a line of about 10 people waiting. I get pissed because no one is responding, grab the walkie and yell that I need help at GS. So I grab the flat and get everything in order. But honestly, who puts a VERY heavy object on the ground with no way of moving it in sight. I was so pissed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, the usual stupid questions. "I'm from Canada, can I get a circular?" YOU DON'T NEED TO SAY WHERE YOU ARE FROM AT THE BEGINNING OF EVERYTHING YOU SAY! It's not like after you ask for an ad I'm gonna ask you what country you live in! It's random shit like that, that really pisses me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pushed over the edge later. I was leaving the building and starting to walk into the parking lot, when this Canadian van speeds up and slams on their brakes, HONKS at me, and the bitch inside is yelling at me to get out of her way. I gave her a dirty look and flicked her off. I don't know what they teach in Canada (obviously not manners or common sense) but here in America, pedestrians have the right of way, especially when I was already crossing the area before you were even close to me. I wanted to beat the living shit out of her. Still do actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was at lunch at my local Wendy's, you could tell it had been recently visited by Canadians. How? There was food trays and garbage on the tables. They are the biggest fucking pigs. There were only 7 billion garbage cans in the place. I didn't know you were too good to dump your own garbage. Give me a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that wasn't the only placed that was trashed. Of course our store was! Again, they are too damn lazy to put shit back where they found it. We found so much unthawed "frozen" merchandise around the store. WHAT THE FUCK PEOPLE!? We also found a loaf of bread under one of the magazine rack. Keep in mind that there is only about 2 inches between the bottom of the rack and the shelf base, so the bread was smushed to shit. If you don't want it, give it to us! We're not going to chop your head off although we want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then of course my store OF ALL TIMES decides to cut hours THIS week. This has been THE busiest we have been since Christmas. It pissed me off. And then we were there until 11:30 because of short-staffing and the pigs, err...Canadians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank fucking GOD I don't work until Saturday! Although this weekend will be BAD because the Canadians have Monday off, so there will be even more of them down here. That's it, I'm taking next year's Canadian spring break off. Fuck'em all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114370120167367701?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114370120167367701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114370120167367701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114370120167367701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114370120167367701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/03/holy-shit.html' title='Holy Shit!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114359382065795935</id><published>2006-03-28T16:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T09:53:38.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My Dear Lord</title><content type='html'>It is BUSY in town this week. Guess who? Yup, those damn Canadians are down here. I don't understand how it's spring break for the university of stupid, and yet the whole damn city is down here. And of course my store did not think about scheduling more people this week because that would have been too hard. It just makes me more angry at the store and the Canadians when the store is busting at the seams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was alright because they actually scheduled a lot of people. Lanes 2-12 and 18-30 were open. Yet we were still calling for back-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I have heard horror stories about the past two days. From busloads (yes that's plural) at food Ave to every single TM at the front lanes to control a back-up. I heard guests were lined up into the merchandise. I'm not looking forward to Wednesday and this weekend. In Food Ave, my friend told me there was a total of 8 quesadillas ordered around the same time. The grill can only do 2 at a time. That may not sound like a big deal, but then you add on the rest of the bus getting other food items and it can hold up orders for a long time. And because the busloads of dumbasses have the patience of a flood, it can get quite frustrating. My friend had to leave the building on his break just to cool down. He said every car he could see from the doors were all Canadian. Oh joy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe I'm the only one in Guest Service from 4:30-close, but I could be wrong. In any event it will be stressful as all fuck, which I don't have the time nor energy to worry about right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to hoping the Canadian dollar plummets in value!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To add: Sara (the funny one) said this past weekend, "It smells like Canadian vag in here." Haha! And of course it was in front of guests. She's too funny!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114359382065795935?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114359382065795935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114359382065795935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114359382065795935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114359382065795935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/03/oh-my-dear-lord.html' title='Oh My Dear Lord'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114290417213841398</id><published>2006-03-20T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T17:22:52.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok, So I Lied</title><content type='html'>I guess Canadian spring break is NEXT week, but still it was pretty damn busy for having no events in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get to work on Sunday, and I was scheduled 12-7:30 and Maggie tells me I get to work Guest Service because Christa didn't show up. I was elated to say the least. I was just saved from 7.5 hours of cashiering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had some funny answers to our questions today:&lt;br /&gt;Sharon asked a guest, "Do you have any other shopping to do?"&lt;br /&gt;The guest said, "No, I just need to get a few more things."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I asked a guest, "Was there anything wrong with it?"&lt;br /&gt;And the guest said, "No, it's broken."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then towards the end of the night, I experienced a doosie of a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so she comes up and asks if she could get a raincheck for an item. So I call back to the department for numbers and they tell me it's only a price cut, and we don't give rainchecks on price cuts. Well, the price cut ended in a few days and she wanted to know what would happen next. I told her that it would go to regular price. She asked me if I knew what the new price would be, and that I obviously don't know. So she bitchily asked, "Is there anyone that DOES know?" I told her I don't think anyone would know, but I would call up a manager. Rich came up and he told her the exact same thing I told her. So Rich starts walking away and the bitch flips on ME. She said something like, "If you are working in customer service, you should know all the answers. I've worked in customer service and I know you should not be up here. Maybe you should keep that in mind next time." And she walked away. I sarcastically said "OK!" Then I followed with, "I hope you didn't treat any customers like that." What a bitch. Even the guest my co-worker was helping said, "What's her problem?" After she left we all looked at each other and laughed because I still didn't know what the fuck just happened. I hope she gets hit by a car...oops, did I just say that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114290417213841398?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114290417213841398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114290417213841398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114290417213841398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114290417213841398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/03/ok-so-i-lied.html' title='Ok, So I Lied'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114272950624841335</id><published>2006-03-18T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-18T16:51:46.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Canadian Spring Break</title><content type='html'>Holy mother fucking shit, it is BUSY in town!! It was so busy in Target I wanted to shoot myself. And all the Canadians are down here so it's 10 times busier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was doing a return of a phone card, the lady says nothing to me about anything except for the fact that it didn't work. So I start the return and ask her if she wanted it credited back to her card. She said she didn't have the card and I told her we didn't need it. She then yelled literally, "NO!" I was a bit shocked because I didn't know what the fuck was the problem. She starts bitching that she wants another one. So I give her a giftcard, and she was on her way. My God, she made the biggest fucking stink out of nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I don't know why, but everyone was returning all their defective shit today. It seemed like everything that was returned was defective. Or it didn't fit when the Canadians tried it on at their hotel room. I hear that at least once a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The head cashiers were bitching up a storm that we needed to get Target cards. They told us we had to get at least 2 each. I said, being the smartass that I am, "As long as we're dreaming, I want a leprechaun." I'm asking, leave me alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just hectic today, and this whole week is going to be miserable. Of fucking course they don't schedule around Canadian holidays so we always have a skeleton crew running the fucking store. From around 1:30-2:30 there were NO SALESFLOOR TEAM MEMBERS. On a fucking Saturday!!! So of course all hell was breaking loose and the front lanes were backed up into next year. But there wasn't anyone available to come up so it was a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This coming weekend is going to be even more of a fucking disaster because we have the NCAA playoffs here, Aerosmith will be in town, and of course the end of Canadian spring break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand why ALL the Canadians are down here. I thought it was just spring break for the students, but I haven't seen very many if at all. It's all the rude one that have such a feeling of self entitlement just because they come from Canada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to make things even better, I cashier tomorrow for 7.5 hours! Shoot me now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114272950624841335?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114272950624841335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114272950624841335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114272950624841335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114272950624841335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/03/canadian-spring-break.html' title='Canadian Spring Break'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114263191549271335</id><published>2006-03-17T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T13:45:15.503-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Retail: The Comic Strip</title><content type='html'>Hey, I found the most true representation of retail all in a daily comic strip. More info can be found here: &lt;a href="http://www.kingfeatures.com/features/comics/retail/about.htm"&gt;http://www.kingfeatures.com/features/comics/retail/about.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some funny ones in there, be sure to check it out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114263191549271335?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114263191549271335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114263191549271335' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114263191549271335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114263191549271335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/03/retail-comic-strip.html' title='Retail: The Comic Strip'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114248827151609720</id><published>2006-03-15T21:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T21:51:11.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something in the Water</title><content type='html'>Or maybe it's because of the full moon? People today have been complete assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, there was this one woman who had 2 bags FULL of random shit with 3 different receipts. There had to be at least 20 items. And of course she didn't know what was on each receipt. So I grab one and start scanning some things. Well the receipt she had she paid some in cash and some on her credit card. So, the computer wanted to give her the cash back. She freaked out saying how she wanted it back on her credit card. I told her the computer wouldn't let me do it. So I called the head cashier and she dealt with her. She ended up voiding the transaction to see if receipt look-up would work, but it still wanted to give cash back. At the end of everything the guest thanked us for our help and apologized, but in my eyes it was too little too late. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another guest freaked out at a cashier because they couldn't write their check out for over the amount. She claimed she was able to it last week. We haven't been able to in over a year and a half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another guest gave me the third degree about returning an open CD. She wanted to know why we had to open the one they were exchanging it for, and would not stop asking questions even after I explained it. Irritating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this guy who left a bag of stuff at our store. He called 5 minutes before closing saying he'd be there in 10 and totally freaked out when I said he may not be able to pick it up tonight. Well, I talked to the LOD and he said he would lock the door 5 minutes after 10. So the guy came and got his shit. Must have been important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's the people who are returning something without a receipt and I explain the whole exchanging policy we have, then they ask "Can't I just get a giftcard?" NO! Did I fucking mention a giftcard!? No! If it were an option then I wouldn't explain the fucking policy now would I!? Christ people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I hate is when I'm doing absolutely nothing by a register and the guest comes up and sets their shit by the computer on the other side of the counter. Hello! I'm down here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also where they have 10 billion things in 1 billion bags with 40 million receipts, and don't know what goes with what and so I have to scan every single god damn thing to see if it's on a certain receipt, and it ends up taking forever to process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also when a guest is waiting in line, and then they come up to be helped and decide that THEN is the time to look for the receipt. Do that before you come in the store!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this woman who was registering for our baby registry, and she would not get off the fucking phone! Hello, there are things I need to tell you so you don't fuck everything up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh! People were just unbearable today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114248827151609720?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114248827151609720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114248827151609720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114248827151609720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114248827151609720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/03/something-in-water.html' title='Something in the Water'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114202776508320936</id><published>2006-03-10T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T13:56:05.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Club</title><content type='html'>Ok, so you all know about "the Club", that stupid invention that one puts on their car steering wheel so no one steals it. Well, it is in almost every Canadian car down here. First off, is it the 1980s up there? I didn't even know they still made the club. Second of all, no one in our rinky-dink town is going to steal your car. If it's locked, it's fine. Even if it isn't locked, it's not likely to be stolen in a parking lot FULL OF PEOPLE! Fuck, people around here don't even lock their doors to their houses. Our city is about 1/10 the size of the 'big' city up there, and we only have 50,000 people. It's funny when we went up there because SO many cars had the damn club on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with their 1980s vibe, they wear the weirdest shit. Like fanny-packs. My God, it seems like all of them have one. They also wear their Canada shit down here. I know I've bitched about this before, but is it really fucking necessary to wear Canada shit wherever you go. Do you have to stand out from everyone. The only reason I can think of is that they do it *because* they stand out. They don't want to be associated with us because they think we are so below them. They treat us like shit most of the time and expect to be an exception to every rule just because they made the trip from Canada. Well, I suggest you return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also have weird hair. Like with 40 billion colors in it. Even on old ladies. I've seen purple, green, red (actual red, not the orangey natural shit), and combinations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the sight of their license plate, it sends me into a bitchfest, quite like the one you are experiencing now. They have the shittiest attitude and I don't think they even know it. My friends that work at restaurants say they don't tip... at all. Do they not know how to tip, or do they just not care. As you have read from my previous posts, they don't clean up after themselves. They will take a pair of shoes off the shelf, try them on, and leave them there, out of the box and everything. One of these days I am going to explode and go on a shooting rampage. Or I'll just tell them to act like civilized human beings. I didn't think one's nationality could be an excuse for everything they do. My friend had a Canadian call her from Canada and she forgot her purse in our store. She wanted us to mail her fucking purse to her. We obviously can't do this because we can't be held responsible if it got lost in the mail. What did she say to this..."But I'm from Canada." What the fuck!? If it gets used today, I will tell them off. And if they ask if we exchange money. NO! We are not a bank! What surprises me even more is that they freak out on ME because they can't and demand to know where they can. A BANK! Well, if the banks are closed again it's my fault. Hmmm, a simple solution: EXCHANGE YOUR FUCKING MONEY BEFORE YOU COME DOWN HERE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What started my whole tirade today is that one of the major hotel chains in Canada is 'outreaching' to our city and building a hotel with an all-out waterpark right next to our arena. Our paper said how this will be good for the city because we'll have much more Canadian traffic down here. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! And soon, they'll be down here saying they are the reason the city prospers...oh wait they already do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in conclusion, if you want to see what the 1980s were like first hand, take a trip to Canada!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114202776508320936?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114202776508320936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114202776508320936' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114202776508320936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114202776508320936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/03/club.html' title='The Club'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114127941122612302</id><published>2006-03-01T21:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T22:03:31.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Bitch</title><content type='html'>So this woman and her husband come in, and they want to return a blazer and dress pants. They don't have the receipt, but they just bought it an hour ago. They want me to use the receipt look-up because they used their debit card. I told them that it probably wouldn't work because it was purchased just that day, but I said I would try. I tried and it obviously didn't work. So I told them I would either need a receipt of they could come back tomorrow and try the receipt look-up. The lady went apeshit. She started freakin gout saying that this was the only reason they came back, and that I should be able to look it up. My thoughts are how the fuck do you lose a receipt in one hour? Her husband was totally nice about it, and was perfectly fine with coming back the next day. But the wife was muttering under her breath about not being able to do it. What do you want me to do!? It's out of my control. God, she was a nasty bitch!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114127941122612302?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114127941122612302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114127941122612302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114127941122612302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114127941122612302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/03/stupid-bitch.html' title='Stupid Bitch'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114084929366321001</id><published>2006-02-24T21:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T22:34:53.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Canadians! Part DUHHH!</title><content type='html'>Oh my fucking god! And it continues...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get to work at 4, and I'm scheduled to work Guest Service, so I was up there for a few minutes and Karen came and got me because a bus was at Food Ave. A bus FULL of Canadians! Oh joy! So I head on over there, and was there for the better part of the next 2 hours. Shortly after the first bus full of asswipes left, yet another pulled up. I wanted to shoot myself/everyone there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;For some God damn reason, about 80% of them order hot dogs. What the fuck is so special about hot dogs from a Target snack bar, I'll never know. Anyways, this old lady gets one and comes back up a few seconds later. She tells us there was something wrong. We looked, and she had poured the Mountain Dew Icee all over her hot dog. Why? She thought it was "mustard." Ok, there were 4 people over there helping out and we all burst out into laughter. How dumb can you be!? My God, do you need me to tell you where to wipe after you shit too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, besides being dumb, they are EXTREMELY rude. It's even worse in Food Ave. Where to begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, when they walk up they ask the dumbest questions. What do you have to drink? Besides the 10 foot wall of what we fucking carry, gee I don't fucking know! I looked at the guy like he was retarded. Also when they order, they still haven't made up their minds. What comes with this? How much is that? It's all on the fucking board!!! See the picture of the hot dog and drink, so a fucking hot dog and a fucking drink come with it, do you not understand pictures!? They also have shitloads of change that they take their precious time counting out. Nevermind the 25 people behind you, take your sweet fucking time counting out pennies, ass. Then they all yell at you because they can't hear you because your busmates are talking to them still deciding what to get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this group of women that told me their bus was leaving in 2 minutes, so I better hurry up. Excuse me? Maybe quit shifting the damn responsibility onto me. You knew the bus was leaving, and you have to get on it, so you should leave enough time to get food and eat before getting on the bus. Don't think your smartass comments are going to inspire me to help you. Personally, I'd like to see you miss the bus and yell at me, so I could really tell you how I feel about you. It's not like you told me before you ordered, or after it was taking a while, you decided to tell me right after you ordered. Well fuck you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after they order, I gave them their change and told them their order number, and told them we would call them when it was ready. Well, apparently they only fucking heard about their change because it was ANNOYING. As soon as they were done ordering, they walked over 2 steps to where you pick up stuff, and expected it to be done. Yeah ok, your cheeseburgers and fries are done in the 3 seconds. It's Target, we have to make everything as ordered...it will take a while, sit the fuck down. We were freaking out on them telling them to sit down, but some refused and kept asking about their order. In a bus of 50, yours isn't going to be ready right away. Well, when someone's was done, the people standing there kept asking if it was theirs. NO, YOU JUST FUCKING ORDERED, SIT DOWN! So we got most of them to sit down, and so when the food was actually ready we called the order number and what it was comprised of. A few didn't come up for a few minutes. Yes, the very same people who were bitching about where theirs was, were now sitting on their thumbs being stupid. Then when they did come up, they asked us 10 times if it was theirs. We asked what they ordered, and clearly that was the food sitting in front of them. A friend I was working with was yelling yes and shoving food at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the worst was when they left. No, I was elated when they left, but they left ALL their fucking garbage on the fucking tables. Okay, once again it's a snack bar, not a full service restaurant, and if it is, I expect a fucking tip. There are 3 garbages by the 2 exits, and 2 garbages by the pop/condiments. Don't fucking tell me you can't clean up after yourself. It is so disgusting cleaning up half-eaten food that was ate by someone else. And of course, as I was cleaning it up, I made it known to everyone sitting around there that it was disgusting, hoping they would get the hint. They didn't, but then again they are Canadian. I also hear from some of my friends at real restaurants that Canadians don't tip. I would probably kill them if I didn't get a tip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, as you can fucking see from my 2 hours of being over there, I accumulated this whole post of hatred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passports for US entry January 2008!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114084929366321001?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114084929366321001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114084929366321001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114084929366321001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114084929366321001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-hate-canadians-part-duhhh.html' title='I Hate Canadians! Part DUHHH!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114042642307411590</id><published>2006-02-20T00:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T01:07:03.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Canadians!</title><content type='html'>I hate to say it, but it's true. Some days you get SO agitated and it can get unbearable. Some Canadians that come down are nice, but a vast majority are rude/annoying/dumb or any combination of the three. So today, well technically yesterday, I was a breaker and had an all out argument with a Canadian. She was buying a $300 sewing machine and it had a coupon on it for a free $20 giftcard. She starts bitching out of nowhere that she wants to use it towards the sewing machine. We're not supposed to do that, it is possible with a little trickery but I'd get chewed out in a heartbeat. Anyways, after I tell her she can't a few times, she keeps insisting. Then she asks when it would expire. I told her that our giftcards never expire...NEVER. Well, she asks that if she comes back in 3 months if it would be expired. Did you not fucking hear me!? NO, IT DOESN'T EXPIRE! She said, "I bet you it will." NO IT WON'T! "Can't I just use it on the sewing machine?" NO! What the fuck is so hard to understand!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was putting carts away, and this Canadian who just walked in the door asked if we sold Bush's baked beans. They LOVE them for some reason, we almost always sell out every weekend. I tell her that we do carry them, and she tells me...TELLS me, to go get her a case of them. I just pointed to where they were and walked away. Sorry I'm not your personal shopper. And the least you could do is ask nicely, not tell me to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sara saw a Canadian woman eating a bag of M&amp;amp;M's and then put the empty bag down. Sara went over there and asked her if that bag was hers.&lt;br /&gt;Canadian: "No, it's not mine."&lt;br /&gt;Sara said, "I just saw you eating it."&lt;br /&gt;Canadian: "So?"&lt;br /&gt;Sara: "Well, are you going to pay for it?"&lt;br /&gt;Canadian: "No."&lt;br /&gt;Then Sara walked away and told our Assets Protection team, but she had left by the time they were notified. That would have been awesome if she got slapped a restitution all for a 53 cent item. But honestly who the fuck does that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they always have to have separate transactions. It fucking annoys the hell outta me. It gets old real damn quick because it slows the whole line down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then they talk in French to try to hide their conversation from you. Oh you're so damn cool. One group of Canadians went through a cashier's lane saying in French how ugly the cashier's hair was...the cashier speaks French and totally understood everything they said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the fucktards come down here, they think they are god's gift to the Earth. They treat us like shit, and trash talk us all the time. One Canadian said to a cashier, "I'm not coming down here anymore, you Americans are all fat." First of all, no, and second of all, what a great reason to stop going somewhere. Hell, any reason to get you to stay in your own god forsaken country is A-OK with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The TMs at my store are all rooting for passports at the border because it would cut down on the idiots coming down DRASTICALLY. That would be awesome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114042642307411590?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114042642307411590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114042642307411590' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114042642307411590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114042642307411590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-hate-canadians.html' title='I Hate Canadians!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114024619715035529</id><published>2006-02-17T22:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T23:03:17.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Target-Sucks is Back!</title><content type='html'>Sort of. Ok, not really, but a few boards have been created in it's place. For all you who were at the now absent Target-Sucks forum, you can check out these two:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bullseye:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s3.phpbbforfree.com/forums/index.php?mforum=thebullseye"&gt;http://s3.phpbbforfree.com/forums/index.php?mforum=thebullseye&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Return of the Target Sucks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://targetsucks.elevation24.com/forum/index.php"&gt;http://targetsucks.elevation24.com/forum/index.php&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you see this, spread the word to other people that were registered. Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114024619715035529?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114024619715035529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114024619715035529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114024619715035529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114024619715035529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/02/target-sucks-is-back.html' title='Target-Sucks is Back!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-114002179378882127</id><published>2006-02-15T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T08:43:13.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My God!</title><content type='html'>So I'm in complete withdrawal because they took Target-sucks.com down. I was so damn addicted to posting there, but now it's gone and I can't find another board to post on. I love reading to see how things are going for other people, and bitching about how it goes for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I suppose it's back to bitching on here. I get to work tonight, so I'm sure I'll have some stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Round-Up:&lt;br /&gt;-A Canadian wanted to return something he bought 6 months ago, a full 3 months after the receipt EXPIRED. His excuse: "I don't get UP here often." First of all, in relation to Canada, you would come DOWN here, not up. Second of all, it's the same policy for everyone. Live with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-One of the cashiers went into seizure mode, and I called 911. Well, I got bitched out because I didn't say Code Green (for an accident) first. What the fuck ever. Don't get mad at me just because it took you forever to get to the lane. The cashier is fine and that's all that matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm beginning to really hate working. On days that I cashier I'm almost always a little late because I just don't care anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-114002179378882127?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/114002179378882127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=114002179378882127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114002179378882127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/114002179378882127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/02/oh-my-god.html' title='Oh My God!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113847225403369694</id><published>2006-01-28T09:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-28T10:17:34.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitched Out</title><content type='html'>So I get to work on Thursday and Karen tells me she needs to talk to me. I think, 'just fucking great'. She brings me to the head cashier office and shuts the door, which is never a good sign. She digs out this list with various topics on it. Then she pretty much rips into me. The things she brings up are 1) I call the LOD (manager) up to GS too much, 2) I need to smile more, and 3) I need to be more empathetic with guests. What the fuck ever. After she goes over her lecture and examples of what she would do, I had enough. I freaked out on her saying that they always point out the little unimportant negative things about me, but never compliment me (or anyone for that matter) when they do a good job. To this she just said that I am a good worker at GS. Well, no shit, I carry GS, but if I'm a 'good' worker then why are you having this discussion with me and have a fucking list of shit!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My response to each and every one of her stupid topics:&lt;br /&gt;1) When a guest asks for a manager, I'm going to call the LOD. It's their fucking job to address guest complaints! So sorry that I work more than anyone else so it seems like I call them up more often. I told Karen that I do call the LOD as a last resort and I wasn't aware that I was doing it "so much." It's what the guest wants, not me. The way she said it pissed me off too. She said, "All of the LODs have said that they always get called up to GS more when you are working." So basically all of them hate me? For making them do their job? Heaven forbid you get off your lazy ass and answer a guest's question. It was funny (at least to me) that night when I brought back defectives, we are supposed to call the LOD to open the trash compactor, but I didn't want to "bother" them so I just left all my garbage right next to it. I'd hate to interrupt them doing nothing to do their job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Smiling more...OK, sorry I'm not a fucking robot. I told Karen that I've never been a person that smiles a lot, or for no reason. That DOESN'T mean I'm in a bad mood, I just don't show it all the time with my face. I still greet each guest and tell them to have a nice day. I'm still nice to people, but I guess I need to have a fake ass smile from ear to ear. And it's not like a head cashier ever works with me, so they don't know how I interact with guests, they only see me when they are walking by. I've been told for quite some time now that I need to smile more. Maybe improve store conditions, more people would be smiling. As far as I know, I'm the only one they talk to about smiling more, no one else has said they have been talked to about the same thing. No one else smiles that often in our store either, so I don't know what the fuck they expect from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Being more empathetic with guests. I told her that it's hard to be empathetic to people that are nothing but rude to me. For example, if someone calls a co-worker of mine an asshole, I'm not going to be cool with it, or making sure everything has been done for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then when I got to work yesterday, there was a gallon of milk at the end of Whitney's lane. I was on the lane next to Whitney. Karen comes up to me and pretty much yells at me asking why it is there. I told her I didn't know, and Whitney told her. I love that her first reaction was to yell at me. Go figure. I swear she has it out for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then later that night right after we closed I brought up my abandoned to GS, and when I was walking back to my lane a guest asked me a question. I had to ask someone else and they were about 6 lanes away from my lane. Dawn, the dykish salesfloor TL, came into my lane and was pissing and moaning that I wasn't there helping her. She asked Whitney to help her since I wasn't. I said, "I can't be everywhere at once." My god, what was I supposed to do? Ignore the guest?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm definitely thinking I'm the store's whipping boy. Whatever goes wrong, let's just take it out on me, even when it's out of my hands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113847225403369694?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113847225403369694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113847225403369694' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113847225403369694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113847225403369694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/01/bitched-out.html' title='Bitched Out'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113829984115803299</id><published>2006-01-26T09:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-26T10:33:45.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Retail Report</title><content type='html'>Well, I haven't updated this much over the busy return season, but let me tell you it was a doosie. Maybe I'll try to recollect some stories at some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm about 3 weeks into my university classes, and after requesting 10-20 hours a week, NEXT week is when they actually decided to follow that. I have 12 hours, which is fine by me because I have a few tests to hardcore study for. BUT, I close tonight, Friday, Saturday, AND Sunday. Yeah, it sucks. Especially when I'm not even available to close Thursdays or Sundays. I told Maggie I was leaving when I'm done with GS shit tonight and Sunday. I have no time to do anything for school because Target has sponged up all my time. And to make matters worse I cashier on Friday and Saturday, the busiest days of the week. Schedules also come out today, so I can only imagine how they are going to schedule me this upcoming week. As you can probably tell, I'm not looking forward to working tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All right, a little thing of the blog that I'm naming "The Round-Up" which will include dumb and rude guests. Let's start her off right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Round-Up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this woman who wanted to return her defective digital camera. She had bought it in May but still had the receipt. We no longer carried the camera and I couldn't do anything for her. She thought she was 'above me' and slid a piece of paper across the desk and said all snootily, "I have a warranty." I smiled, pushed the paper back at her, and said, "With the manufacturer, not Target." It made my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another woman wanted to return an open DVD. I told her that because it was open, she could only exchange it for the exact same thing. She didn't want to, she wanted to just return it because she didn't "like" the movie. Sorry, we're not blockbuster!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this guy who had a DVD player that he got as a gift. The only thing is that it wasn't in our system anymore, so it had to be pretty old. I tell him that I would need a receipt dated within 90 days to do anything for him. He demanded a manager and there was an all out argument. He kept saying that Target should stand behind it's products. Target does...for 90 days! I somewhat remember him trying to return the same thing LAST Christmas. Let it go! Donate it or something!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Xmas stuff went clearance, we had all sorts of people bitching about adjustments. Target doesn't adjust clearance prices! There was this one woman in particular who said she asked before Xmas if she could get an adjustment, and they apparently told her she could. Well, we can't and the woman threw a fit. She bitched out the manager, but in the end, she DIDN'T get her adjustment. I laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman came in and wanted to return a toy. Well, it was over $10 so she had to exchange it for ONE item in Toys, and I told her that multiple times. She comes back with 2 items, and I told her NO it had to be one item. This is when people either say the policy is stupid or the claim that we didn't say that. Well, the woman said she went back to toys, but she went to another person at GS. As if I'm not gonna see you walk to another person. Yes, it was busy, but I'm not dumb. The other GSTM said the exact same thing and she starting crying. Yes, crying. Policies are policies, it's not that hard to comprehend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this next story REALLY pissed me off, and still does. There was this Canadian family that was shopping, and before they started they asked what the exchange rate was and they were told it was 81%. When, they went through the lanes, it was 78%. The family threw an all out shit fit, and stormed over to Guest Service. We told him that we didn't set the exchange rate, and we only give the information that is given to us. The guy just walked away and he wife asked him why he was misquoted. The guy said, (about the other GSTM) "Because she's an asshole!" Actually, he yelled it. Now the other GSTM is the nicest woman ever, and you could tell she was obviously hurt by the comment. So I yell, "GO HOME!" but I don't know if they heard me, I just hate Canadians, and you can see why. But that wasn't he end of it. The wife comes back in and bitches us out some more. We call the head cashier and it was another all out argument. The head cashier explained that US to Canadian was 81%, but Canadian to US was 78%. Then, she started bitching that if they would have known that, they would have paid in US currency. The head cashier offered to void the transaction, and do it over. The bitch didn't want to. The head cashier was getting annoyed and asked, "Then what do you want me to do!?" She started bitching that we should give out the right information to people. We do. She also bitched that the store next door had an exchange rate of 84%, and that we were ripping them off. The head cashier also yelled back saying we go through different banks, and all banks set their own exchange rate. She eventually left, and we all shit-talked Canadians. If you ever want to know why I hate Canadians, this is one reason. They are all like this too, multiply these people by the thousands and you have our weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this woman who wanted to return a 3-in-1 printer. It was an HP 2170 or something like that. Well, she didn't have a receipt and she brought up a HP 3100 or something like that, but it was obviously different. So I asked her if she found the 2170 because I would need that to do the exchange. She yelled at me to call Electronics and have them check. I am willing to if they ask nicely, but this was a demand. I call them and NOPE we don't carry that kind. She yelled at me, and dialed up her mom or whoever and had her yell at me. The woman on the phone said that she called and they told her they could return it. I asked her if she had the receipt, and NOPE. I told her that we do not carry that model number so I could not return it. I think they were trying to scam me, but they underestimated my intelligence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this woman who wanted to return a basketball hoop. The only thing she brought it was the broken backboard. She expected a full refund for just bringing in the backboard. I looked at her as if she was retarded. She promised she would throw away the base, but didn't want to drag into the store. I told her that I would need everything to do a return. How stupid can you be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I better get ready for Work-Til-I-Drop 2006 this weekend. Hopefully I'll update this a little more regularly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113829984115803299?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113829984115803299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113829984115803299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113829984115803299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113829984115803299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/01/retail-report.html' title='The Retail Report'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113701293126961374</id><published>2006-01-11T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T12:55:31.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Been A While...</title><content type='html'>So it's been quite some time since I've last posted. I guess I was too busy relaxing that I didn't want to report on my awful days. I worked 11 days in a row with the exception of Christmas...That was fun. Things are slowing down some and I couldn't be happier. BUT, people are getting more and more bitchy the further we move away from Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to recap guests a few at a time, but first the latest drama. It just seems like STILL I'm the only one doing anything at GS. People just like to yell at me. All the head cashiers and all the LODs never seem to be satisfied with anything. I busted my ass cleaning Guest Service for bounce back, but the head cashiers still didn't care. I think Maggie said thanks, but I'm not too sure. Anyway, Anne is quitting and wrote this 3 page letter to them that told them everything she hated about our store. We were both talking shit about our store all while the TLs and LODs were one table away. I made it a point to make them hear that I didn't like Karen at all. I'm pretty sure Sharon heard me and that is why she was a bitch for the rest of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I work tonight from 4:30-close in GS and I hope it's dead. I can't think of anything else to say right now and I'm sick of typing, so until next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113701293126961374?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113701293126961374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113701293126961374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113701293126961374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113701293126961374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2006/01/been-while.html' title='Been A While...'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113523878705705910</id><published>2005-12-21T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-22T00:06:27.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My Fucking GOD!</title><content type='html'>It was so fucking busy. At one point we had every salesfloor TM on the lanes. Then of course all hell broke loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this one woman who wanted to exchange shirts, and she brought the ones she wanted up to GS. Well, there was a ginormous line behind her so I did this shitty job of folding them, but before I could put them in the bag, the bitch rips them from my hands and says, "I'll fold them, you suck at folding." Excuse the fuck outta me!? So I just threw her receipt at her, and helped the next person. Of course she took 10 minutes to fold her stupid shirts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had been calling for Toys and Seasonal to get their OVERFLOWING carts for a few hours and no one had come, much less mentioned anything about them on the walkie, so I got pissed and told them for the umteenth time they had overflowing carts. The bitch in Toys got on the walkie and freaked the fuck out on me. She said, "I will get it when I get off the lanes." She also gave me this dirty look. So I made the face back to her and rolled my eyes. I have no fucking sympathy for them because we have been calling those 2 departments for the last few hours and no one came to get them. Even when it wasn't busy. So fuck off! Then Sharon gets on the walkie looking for me, and I don't want to talk to her so I ignore it, and Sharon says over the walkie that we should deliver the carts when they get full. Yeah, OK I will as soon as you learn to fucking schedule people at GS. There was 2 of us and we were fucking swamped. Delivering carts ISN'T my job, it's the salesfloors' job to get their ass up to GS and get their fucking carts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but I don't call it Hell for any reason, something else happened. While Amanda was backing up on the lanes, she got a card. When I was on my lunch, 2 people walked up and she got 2 more. Then another person walked up and she got another one. And here's me asking everyone possible and no one wanted one from me, but I was asking. So Maggie, Sharon, and Rich were all standing at GS saying how good she was and blah blah blah. Then they all start telling me to get some and I just freaked out. I said, "Spare me the guilt trip, I'm trying." Damn I'm funny. Well Sharon starting singing "You better not pout..." Ok, thanks bitch, please make me feel even more like shit. GOD I fucking hate her sometimes. Sorry that I can't fucking force people to sign up! Sorry I have bad luck! What the fuck do you want from me!? Fuck the whole store, I hope it burns down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tomorrow I cashier from 5-close. Seriously I want to die right now. It's only gonna get busier tomorrow because the K-12 schools are out. Kinda late I know. I'm not looking forward to it at all. The worst part was that Sara said there was a high probability that she would take it. Got my hopes up for nothing. I want to go to a friend's party because I am never there when they start, I'm always fucking working. Target can seriously go fuck itself right now. The only day I'll have of from this past Monday to next Friday is Christmas. So in a 11 day span, I'll have 1 day off. SHOOT ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so fucking sick of doing everything at GS. I do everything. No one ever helps me or even tries. I've brought it up with the head cashiers and nothing changes. I want to scream at the top of my lungs right now. I don't want to fucking open the day after Christmas with Blanka and Whitney because they don't know what the fuck they are doing...at all. I'm going to be doing everything and I'm about to burst. I don't want to fucking cashier tomorrow at all. I hate cashiering with a passion. WITH A FUCKING PASSION! And it's going to be super fucking busy, and everyone is an asshole. I better be a breaker, I can't stand being on one lane the whole fucking day. It's also 5-12. Thanks! They are basically using me to just close. Oh, and get this, if we finish with everything before 12, we have to help overnight put stuff out. They get paid $1 more for working overnight so they can go fuck themselves as far as I'm concerned. I'm leaving when I want to. I have places to be and they can fire me for all I care. Then they would have to fill my shifts. They could even write me up. I just don't give a shit anymore. I wish I had a punching bag right now. I'd probably break the damn thing I'm so angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you'll be sure to hear about everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113523878705705910?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113523878705705910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113523878705705910' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113523878705705910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113523878705705910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/12/oh-my-fucking-god.html' title='Oh My Fucking GOD!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113519897912991291</id><published>2005-12-21T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T13:02:59.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Starting...</title><content type='html'>The bitchfest that we know as Christmas returns is starting already. The bitchy attitudes have been whipped out and in full force. You better have a full defense of confidence to battle this return season. Pull out all stops, and fight fire with fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what it is, but there are a lot of fucking assholes returning shit and it's not even after Christmas yet. It's been really busy at Guest Service, to the point where it's almost impossible to keep up with anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's start with a few gems from the past few days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this woman who came up with a black shirt. I don't know what the fuck her problem was, but she went into this all out rant. Apparently she had bought grey and brown shirts on Sunday that were on sale and they told her they didn't have any black shirts. She told me that they must have been lying because there was a black shirt. So I tell her that we may have got a shipment in, and she started bitching that they told her they wouldn't get anymore in. She also said they checked the inventory with our computer and I told it that the inventory was as of 8am that morning so it could be wrong. She wasn't having any of it and basically insinuating that they had lied to her. I was still fucking wondering what the fuck she wanted other than to bitch. She wanted to buy the black shirt! Was the fucking bitchout necessary!? She started bitching about how it was on sale on Sunday and that she should still get the sale price because they lied to her. I told her that if it was on sale on Sunday, that it would still be on sale because it was within the same week. For whatever reason, the black shirt wasn't ringing up on sale. I finally just changed the price and she left. But jesus fucking christ, she kept asking if I understood and I told her yes, but I still didn't know what she wanted. What the fuck do you want me to do about it!? All she wanted was the sale price, and had she said that in the first place, we both would have saved 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, there was this woman who wanted to return a few shirts. But the receipt was expired. She freaked out on Renae because our policy is "stupid". YOU HAD 90 FUCKING DAYS TO RETURN THEM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been getting a lot of expired receipts lately, and getting bitched out because of it. There was this woman who had an expired receipt and she freaked out saying, "What about after Christmas?" What about it? We still have the same return policy. I also remember way back when, there was this woman who bought something in September for Christmas and came up to GS and told me to write on the receipt that it was OK to return after Christmas. Her receipt expired before then, so I told her I couldn't do that. She returned her stuff and bitched me out and left. Good riddance. I don't know what is so hard to understand about 90 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I have a feeling that this return season is going to suck major ass. At least I can be an asshole right back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For everyone returning things this year, remember that you win more bees with honey than vinegar. Be respectful and nice and employees with be more likely to help you out. Employees are only doing their job and it's not their fault. They are following company policy and if you have a problem with it, politely ask to speak to a manager. Don't expect things to change just because you talked with a manager either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113519897912991291?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113519897912991291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113519897912991291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113519897912991291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113519897912991291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/12/its-starting.html' title='It&apos;s Starting...'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113478048233707793</id><published>2005-12-16T16:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T16:48:02.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So Sick Of It...</title><content type='html'>I can't stand work anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, today I cashiered, and it wasn't too bad. Up until Karen bitched me out. Ok, so this lady wanted to pay with a purchase order. We need the binder with all the account info in it to process it. So I noticed the head cashiers were standing by their office, and so on the walkie I told them to call my lane so they could bring it over. Well, Karen walks over and I ask her to get the binder, and she freaks out saying that I should have gotten a hold of her before she walked over. I told her that I said for them to call me, but she said that all she heard was for a head cashier to go to my lane. By the time she gets back she asks me if I already did the tax exempt thing. I told her that I did, and she freaked out again saying that I didn't need to do it and that the guest had to fill out an extra slip. And she did all of this bitching at me right in front of the guest. I'm going to complain about her next time I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now I have the weekend off and I get to pull a 6 day in a row starting Monday. Then after Christmas I work for another 4 days. Kill me now! I'm so close to having a nervous breakdown.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113478048233707793?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113478048233707793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113478048233707793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113478048233707793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113478048233707793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/12/so-sick-of-it.html' title='So Sick Of It...'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113406834242502573</id><published>2005-12-08T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T10:59:02.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Swear...</title><content type='html'>People are really getting on my nerves this holiday season. I am about to freak the fuck out on pretty much everyone that comes to GS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, there was this woman who came up to GS with an inflatable air mattress. It was defective and whatnot, but she didn't have her receipt. She told me it was a gift. So, I scan the barcode and it comes up Not on File, therefore I need a receipt to do the return. She starts spouting off about how she is out $30 and she wants her cash back. Ok, I thought you said it was a gift. Don't lie to me, that makes me want to help you even less. I gave her the guest relations number and off she went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there were these old Canadian women that came up to GS. First thing out of their mouths, "Call us a cab." (Our town is small so we have to call the cab to pick people up.) That sounded like a demand, you could have asked nicely. And what's wrong with you? Why can't you call yourself you helpless old bitch? So I opened the phone book, and pointed to the cab numbers and she said, "No YOU call a cab for us." I did because I had nothing else to do, but I wish I had other guests so I could tell her off. Well, it had been about 5 minutes and one woman waddles back up to GS and demands that I call them again. At this point I am getting so fucking pissed off that I have to do it when she is perfectly capable. So the cab person says it will be about 3 minutes. The Canadian had a shit-fit right then and there saying, "The cabs are so much quicker in Canada, this would not be acceptable in Canada..." I was just thinking SHUT THE FUCK UP!! This isn't Canada! Our town is a fraction of the size of the city they were from so of course we aren't going to have a billion cabs around town. Think you fucking retard! I'm officially not calling anyone a cab anymore unless they are physically unable. And of course with all Canadians, there was no thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is some local news that puts us on the map, but it will TOTALLY give away where I am. The girl I graduated with and worked with at Target that was on America's Next Top Model WON! Congrats to her! It's been the buzz around town now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113406834242502573?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113406834242502573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113406834242502573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113406834242502573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113406834242502573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-swear.html' title='I Swear...'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113380880309455541</id><published>2005-12-05T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-05T10:53:23.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Get Me Started</title><content type='html'>When I got to work on Saturday, what do you know? Nothing was done and it was a complete mess. It was really busy, but still. The ads could have been done Friday night, there is no excuse. Well, I told who else I was working with that I was going to be ignoring people so I could get the ad done. Then, Karen comes over and pretty much demands that I go change the full garbage in front of GS. She's such a bitch about things. Well I do that, and the garbage leaks all over the fucking floor. So I also had to clean that up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, a 2 backstories: 1) I looked in the folder where we keep all the paid and left slips and November 05 was behind December. So I moved it where it should have gone, in front of the tab November. All the months are set up like that where the slips are in front of the tab of its corresponding month.&lt;br /&gt;2) Some woman called and said she left her Korn CD. I told her nothing had been turned in, and she could bring in her receipt, and we could see what happened with it. Well, I also said if it was left here, we could refund it or let her go grab a new one PENDING that we saw on camera that she didn't leave with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to Sunday. I wasn't even fucking working, but I went in with a friend to grab a few things. Well, I walked by GS and Bridget and Renae both pretty much attacked me. Bridget about the paid and left slips and Renae about the guest who called. Bridget said the slips weren't in the folder, but they were, and she just kept arguing with me. So she grabbed the folder and I showed her where they were. Then everyone at GS jumped at me about the guest who called. They kept saying that there wasn't anything at GS or logged. I told them that it wasn't turned in yet when the woman called, and I told her to bring in her receipt. And then they said that the woman said that we would just give her a new CD no questions asked, and that was not the case. I thought people at GS were smart enough to know to call AP when a situation like that arises, but I guess not. So that's what pissed me off, getting yelled at for stupid shit and I wasn't even fucking working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time I work is Wednesday from 3:30-close once again. I'm getting so irritated with the B-squad of GS and stupid guests and how busy it is. I mean, I am pushing an overflowing tub of defectives back and people just cut me off. It's not that fucking easy to stop a huge tub. Ugh, I hate the busy holiday season.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113380880309455541?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113380880309455541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113380880309455541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113380880309455541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113380880309455541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/12/dont-get-me-started.html' title='Don&apos;t Get Me Started'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113346457809453460</id><published>2005-12-01T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T11:16:18.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pissing Me Off</title><content type='html'>Wednesday night sucked. Patricia was up at GS, and she needed to be retrained. The last thing I want to fucking do when I'm in a bad mood is help someone else. But every little thing she had to check with me, and she just didn't listen sometimes. It got irritating. There wasn't any extremely rude guests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we get to today. I don't work, thank god, but I went into get my schedule. Well, I have a 4 hour cashier shift. That really pisses me off because all I hear is 'how good of a GS worker I am', but then I get scheduled to cashier? What the fuck is that? And I bet you a million dollars, one of the dumbass newbies will have their shift up there. I'm going to complain. I shouldn't have a cashier shift until January because I do a good job at GS. I can't fucking stand cashiering at all. Jesus fucking Christ. It's not like a 4 hour cashier shift is so bad, it's just that some fucking newbie will be up there, and I'm FAR more efficient than anyone up there. I'm just so pissed off. Try it again, and there will be an even bigger stink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I don't work until Saturday and it's 3:30-close. The ads better be fucking done or else...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113346457809453460?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113346457809453460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113346457809453460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113346457809453460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113346457809453460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/12/pissing-me-off.html' title='Pissing Me Off'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113336744585298187</id><published>2005-11-30T07:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T08:17:25.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Weekend</title><content type='html'>Well, I guess I better update you on the BUSY weekend we just had. Sorry it has been a few days, my computer eats paint chips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday, I went in at 5am to get cards. No one is standing in line at 5. Then, Christine and I went out there to stand, and I let her ask the first few people just because I was kinda invading her job. But, around 5:05am or so, a small group started to line up and other people walked up and saw that we didn't open until 6am and so they left. Well, I got the first 2 cards, and then Christine got one, and I went back outside and I got FOUR in a row! It was awesome! While one person was filling one out, I moved down the line until I ran out of clipboards. That was fun typing them in though, I recruited other people to help me. Then it was about 5:50, and I went back outside to tell them if they were approved or not. Well, in the group of 4, I could only find 2 because they must have went to the other door or something. So then I just started walking around asking more people. At about 5 minutes to 6, there was a BIG group of people that budged in front of everyone else, so everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) behind them started booing and yelling, and then they all bum rushed the doors. At that point I was thinking, "I'm getting the fuck back inside before I get trampled." Thank GOD we have our own TM door or else I would have been killed. But, I got a total of 9 cards that day which is an all time high for me. If was funny because I got 6 from outside and Christine only got 2 outside. She ended up with 20 cards, but then again she was asking all day on the floor. I'm more than satisfied with my 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guests weren't that big of a deal, but the whole weekend we spent most of our time doing adjustments, credit card payments, and paging people. Our forecast for Friday was $525,000 and we got $623,000. Almost $100K over goal, so that just shows how busy we were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what would a weekend be without a dumbass Canadian? So one comes up to GS, and asks for a comment card. So I give her one, and she asks me, "What's your policy about taking Canadian coins?" I tell her that our banks don't take them, so we can't. Guess what she says...? "Well they take them in Canada." NO FUCKING SHIT! It's Canadian currency, they better fucking take it in Canada! I swear, they are put on this Earth to test me, and make me laugh most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank god I didn't have to close this weekend either. I fucking hate closing with a passion. But, I got severely sleep deprived because I got up at 4am Friday, 7:30am Saturday and 11am Sunday. That may not sound bad but total for those 3 days I got about 15 hours of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, lucky me I get to work tonight! 3:30-close! Oh I fucking hate it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113336744585298187?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113336744585298187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113336744585298187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113336744585298187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113336744585298187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/11/last-weekend_30.html' title='Last Weekend'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113286127833426481</id><published>2005-11-24T11:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-24T11:41:18.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving!</title><content type='html'>Wednesday was interesting...to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first guest I help is returning a toy. When I ask her if there was anything wrong with it, the shit hits the fan. She starts spouting off about how she sent an e-mail to Target, and that she won't be doing anymore shopping at Target because I guess we aren't saying Merry Christmas. I haven't heard a thing from anyone about not saying Merry Christmas. I so badly wanted to argue with her, but she was a feisty bitch, so I just did the return and let her leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But come fucking on people! No one is bashing Christmas when they say happy holidays! Target still sells Christmas shit! How would you feel if you were Jewish, and every place you went told you to have a Merry Christmas!? Christmas is a holiday, and is included in the happy holidays greeting. It's really not that big of a deal. But, if you aren't going to shop somewhere because they don't bow down to your and only your religion, then I feel sorry for you. Show some damn consideration for others. Christianity is not the center of the universe so get over yourself. If someone wishes me a Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukkah, or any other holiday greeting, I say "Thanks, you too." No one is trying to convert you to their religion, they are just wishing you a happy holiday season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also got a call from this woman who heard that the first 100 people in the store on Friday get a $100 giftcard. Uh no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were done at midnight, but Phyllis and I were putting up the 2 day sale ad and so we were pretty much the last ones to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited to work tomorrow! I'm going in at 5am to get my own cards, and I'll get to see the rush in the doors. It'll be a 9 hour day for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone have a good Thanksgiving and a happy holiday season!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113286127833426481?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113286127833426481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113286127833426481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113286127833426481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113286127833426481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving!'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113270303001215546</id><published>2005-11-22T15:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T15:43:50.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Current GS Employees</title><content type='html'>Ok, back in January I made a list of all the GS employees so I could see who is and isn't still there. Holy shit! A lot has changed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, the old list explaining what happened to people: (People in red no longer work at GS)&lt;br /&gt;Me (obviously)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Heidi&lt;/span&gt; - Still at Target, just not scheduled in GS anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sara&lt;/span&gt; - Still at Target, b/c she's a makeshift head cashier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Jesse&lt;/span&gt; - Left in June for Indiana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Tony&lt;/span&gt; - Still at Target, but works with Assets Protection&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Pam&lt;/span&gt; - Gone, I have no idea what happened to her&lt;br /&gt;Phyllis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Deb&lt;/span&gt; - Still at Target, works in the cash office&lt;br /&gt;Amanda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mary&lt;/span&gt; - Left a long time ago to work at Wal-mart headquarters, haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Angela&lt;/span&gt; - Still at Target as Photo Lab Team Lead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Christa&lt;/span&gt; - Transferred home&lt;br /&gt;Amber&lt;br /&gt;Donna&lt;br /&gt;Kari&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Melissa&lt;/span&gt; - Quit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Laura Mc&lt;/span&gt; - Gone, I have no idea what happened to her either&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Becky&lt;/span&gt; - Quit b/c she was sick of Target's bullshit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now the new list:&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;br /&gt;Phyllis&lt;br /&gt;Amanda&lt;br /&gt;Amber&lt;br /&gt;Donna&lt;br /&gt;Kari&lt;br /&gt;Ashton&lt;br /&gt;Michelle Mo&lt;br /&gt;Bridget&lt;br /&gt;Emily&lt;br /&gt;Sara Sw&lt;br /&gt;Lona&lt;br /&gt;Whitney&lt;br /&gt;Blanka&lt;br /&gt;Patricia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm almost sure I'm missing someone, but I'll update when I find out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113270303001215546?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113270303001215546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113270303001215546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113270303001215546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113270303001215546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/11/current-gs-employees.html' title='Current GS Employees'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113260085277733168</id><published>2005-11-21T10:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T11:20:52.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Horrible</title><content type='html'>Saturday sucked. More so than usual. Thank fucking god I did ad Friday night or we would have been that much more behind. It was a mess the whole fucking night and I was irritated the whole day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the newbies don't do shit. Whenever they aren't helping guests, they just stand there. There is plenty of to do. From now on, I'm going to bring it up with them, and if they still suck, I'm gonna try to get them out of Guest Service. We have enough lazies up there as it is, we don't need more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the newbies not doing anything pissed me off, and that was just the beginning. It was fucking busy and there were people everywhere. By the end of the night we had $311,000 in sales. It was a disaster. We had Guest Service relatively clean until about 9pm. We tried to do our closing duties but we either were busy with guests or one of us got pulled out to cashier. It was me and Phyllis and thank god because a newbie would have only made things worse. Salesfloor people kept bringing shit up and put it all over the counter so that it looked like a fucking pig sty. And then more brought up cartfulls. So we were trying to sort it while helping guests, and then Bridget brings up this basket full of cosmetic defectives. We couldn't fucking do it because we were already behind and doing all of those would have taken a good half hour. So Phyllis and I sort all of the abandoned shit and take the carts out of Guest Service and shut the door so no more people could come back there. They could sort their own stuff. So the store closed soon after. Well, the only thing we had done Guest Service-wise was that I did the paid and left at 7pm (really early) and got binders from the lanes for the ad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm still trying to sort through the mess that people are still bringing up, and putting the new ads in the binders. This bitch walks in the exit doors at 10:10pm. Mind you we closed at 10, but there were still people checking out. Well, she comes to Guest Service and says she wants 10% off. We thought she already applied for the card and just wanted us to apply it to her receipt. Nope, she didn't even apply yet. Well, she was approved and we had to do a fix it fast, and we keep the old receipt. She wasn't having any of it. She still wanted the old voided receipt because she said her husband was picky about receipts. Boo hoo. I told her we absolutely have to keep the receipt, so she put up a big stink and I went to photocopy it for her. That was at 10:30. The bitch finally leaves around 10:40pm, 40 minutes after the store fucking closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Phyllis and I went into turbo mode and brought binders back to the lanes, hung ad, put the ad in the kiosks, closed the GS registers, brought the media to the head cashier office, and recorded the target cards in the book. It was a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, after I get done with the GS shit, Sharon makes me disassemble the sale signs. That took for fucking ever, and then I had to go put them away. Well, by the time I was done they had already sent everyone home and so I punched out at 11:30pm. Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the store is open until 11pm every night until the day after Christmas, so I'm positive that will suck major ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phyllis and I were talking about how the newbies get all the mid-day GS shifts and never have to close at GS. I kinda bitched out Sharon saying that it wasn't fair and they would have to learn it eventually or else they shouldn't get shifts up there. Why should I be doing all the closing and not get any good shifts? It's total bullshit. Well, Sharon said she would make a note about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phyllis was also talking about how the veterans (veterans vs. newbies of GS) get scheduled cashiering when a newbie is at GS. That's not fair either. The head cashiers told her it had to do with her availability but she called them out because she had the same exact shift as the person in GS. It better not fucking happen to me or I will bitch and not go in that day. No fucking way. I'm expecting ALL GS shifts until January. I'm too much of an asset to GS to be cashiering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, you know how I wanted to come in early for the day after Thanksgiving to get people to sign up for cards? Well, I come in at 5:30am, but that's not the problem. Christine is scheduled at 5am to do the same thing. So she'll already have a 30 minute advantage. She asked me on Saturday if I was going outside to ask for cards, or staying inside to enter hers? Uh no bitch! I'll be right outside with you! I'm gonna bitch to the head cashier on Wednesday because that's not fair that she gets a half hour start on me. I actually wanted to get cards and that's the only reason I volunteered. If they think I'm coming in to type in cards for Christine, then I'll see them at 6am. I don't do bitch work. She can type in her own god damn cards. It's just not fair for me coming in at 5:30 and Christine has already asked everyone that's there, so my only chance is with the people that get there more towards opening. It just really pisses me off. That can make my whole day rotten if I get only a few and Christine gets billions. Fuck her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my next shift is Wednesday and surprise surprise I'm working 4:30 to close! And we're closing at 11pm so that will suck. And Lona is there until 9, but I don't think I'll be able to put out ads until later. Also, I have to put up the 2-day ad, and that will be tough because I have to keep the week's ad up too. I've heard everyone that put it up was there late and all the salesfloor people left before they were even done. I have no idea how I am going to do this because the adboard will be full and so I'll have to tape the new one up. It'll probably look like shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited for Thanksgiving, but not working Wednesday night or Fri-Sat-Sun. 8.5 hour days...kill me now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113260085277733168?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113260085277733168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113260085277733168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113260085277733168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113260085277733168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/11/horrible.html' title='Horrible'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113243234405466455</id><published>2005-11-19T12:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T12:32:24.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not In The Mood</title><content type='html'>Well, I just drove by Target, and there was 3 buses dropping off Canadians right in front of the doors. I flicked them off. Go home already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear to God, if one Canadian pulls the 'but I'm from Canada' card, I will tell them straight out that it isn't an excuse and we have the same return policy for everyone regardless of where one chooses to reside. I'm so pumped up to yell at someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They better not ask if we exchange money either. I swear, there is usually a line of a few Canadians and they each ask if we exchange money, and I tell them no, and the person right behind them who clearly heard me asks the same fucking question. I also especially love when they get mad at me because we don't. "Well, you used to." Well we don't anymore fuckface. And then they ask where else exchanges money. A FUCKING BANK!! "Anywhere else? All the banks are closed." Not that I know of, maybe you should exchange your money BEFORE you come down. It's only common sense, but I know most Canadians lack that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I close and so we'll probably be there until 5am because people are pigs. I'm leaving when I'm done with GS because I feel like it. Tonight is the last night we close at 10pm for a while now. Oh, how I am going to pray for 10pm closing in the next few weeks. I absolutely HATE closing at 11pm, and getting out at midnight at the earliest. Wednesday nights, I'm leaving after I'm done with GS because I have class Thursday morning and school is way more important than Target could ever be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm sure all hell will break loose at the store today and you'll be sure to hear about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113243234405466455?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113243234405466455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113243234405466455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113243234405466455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113243234405466455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/11/not-in-mood.html' title='Not In The Mood'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937627.post-113228953037234083</id><published>2005-11-17T20:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T20:52:10.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess What?</title><content type='html'>Even more training!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get to work on Wednesday and what do you know? Oh, I'm training 4 people from 6-9. Talk about lack of communication. So I had to plan my whole shift around training. The people I trained were so bored and I probably sounded like a retard. The training book it set up so stupid that it repeats itself over and over. And I'm not too familiar with it, so I just go along reading it, and then I realize it's something we already covered and I stop mid-sentence. I swear to God these people think I'm stupid. Oh well, they're stupid for working at Target. haha zinger!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then today I worked 2:30-9 cashiering, but I had to buddy train a new cashier from 3-9. It's so bad, but I have a short patience with some situations. I probably don't sound like an asshole, but it seems that way sometimes. I also got to give Tara a break and that was fun because I didn't have anything challenging to do. A cashier didn't know how to do a tax exempt transaction, and another got a target card, so it was pretty easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so bad for my readers because I'm sure you all *LOVE* to hear about my boring day. Hell, if there was more rude people more often, you'll be the first to hear about it. The weekend is almost here, and you all know what I say about the weekends: "The weekend bring out the worst in people."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thought that crossed my mind (they don't happen often, haha) is that I suddenly realized that guests will play any 'card' they have to get their way. And it's entirely true. I've heard some people get called racist just because we are enforcing the return policy. Another 'card' that gets played a lot in my store is the 'but I'm from Canada card'. Again, playing these 'cards' don't weigh on the situation AT ALL. They are just thrown in for sympathy, but sorry the system doesn't recognize sympathy. Here's 25 cents, call someone who cares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, good news for me is that I don't cashier for a while. People should start getting REALLY bitchy right when holiday shopping starts. They are training like crazy in GS because it means less hours for me, but hey as long as they are all GS I really don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Black Friday ad leaked for Target on the Internet. Google it or something, it should pop up. A little tip for my readers, BUY THE ITEMS YOU WANT NOW! Then on the 26th or 27th go to Guest Service and get an adjustment. That way you get what you want at a cheaper price. You won't have to deal with worrying if something is out of stock. Buy now, adjust later. It's that easy. You didn't hear it from me. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tomorrow it's 5-close GS and Saturday it's 3-close GS. God knows I love closing. This weekend will probably suck too because people will be out buying all their Thanksgiving crap. Well, I guess I better rest up for tomorrow. Fridays are notorious for difficult Canadian returns. Fun fun fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6937627-113228953037234083?l=retailrobot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/feeds/113228953037234083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6937627&amp;postID=113228953037234083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113228953037234083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6937627/posts/default/113228953037234083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://retailrobot.blogspot.com/2005/11/guess-what.html' title='Guess What?'/><author><name>RetailRobot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17346091254070810912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_u4sr-33BW1o/R1XpBV5PzTI/AAAAAAAAACo/JSZ-rFVAxzc/S220/robot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
