Thursday, November 26, 2009
-The other day this wannabe thug put in an application for employment. His first personal reference: "Frank". No last name, no address, no occupation. Just "Frank". The store manager took one look at it and tore the application into teeny tiny pieces, then burned the pile, then placed the ashes in a Grecian urn, then encased the urn in cement and threw it into the Ohio River.

-Yesterday I noticed an old man in the line of a brand new cashier. Old man + barely trained cashier = trouble, because old people are horrible and eager to pounce on any perceived human imperfection, despite the fact that they themselves are unable to control their own bowels.

I was about to go over there before he could start complaining, but I was interrupted by a customer who wanted "The red wine I had the other night at Red Lobster." Since I wasn't at the fucking Led Robster with this bint and her vapid family, I had no idea what she was talking about. She seemed upset that I didn't possess the psychic abilities to pull the illusive wine's name out of thin air, but I finally convinced her to call Red Lobster and ask them which overpriced vino they commonly sell to people with poor taste.

Just then, the inevitable: "Hey, you! You, come over here. She's new and doesn't know what she's doing!" Big fucking surprise, the old man was berating our new cashier.

"She says she can't take a check! That's bullshit," the old man bellowed.

I love to correct old people. "Sir, we didn't swear at you. Kindly refrain from swearing at us."

"Well, I know for a fact that this store accepts checks."

More correction from me to him. "No sir, we haven't accepted checks for well over a year."

"I just wrote a check in here less than a month ago," he proclaimed.

"I assure you we haven't taken checks since August of 2008." Then I added, just because I could, "It was the happiest day of my retail life when we stopped taking them."

His last line of defense: "Well, they take checks at Kohl's. They have one of those machines where it approves the check and immediately takes the money out of your account."

OH, IN OTHER WORDS, THE CHECK ACTS LIKE A DEBIT CARD? THEN WHY NOT USE A GOD DAMN DEBIT CARD?!?!?? Because the debit card is efficient and doesn't inconvenience others, thus making it undesirable for old people. If they cared about other people, they'd stop driving giant cars that their diminished capacities can't possibly keep in the assigned lane. And they'd bathe more often.

"We do accept debit cards, sir," the new cashier said. It takes less than a day for anyone who works at our store to learn to hate elderly functional alcoholics.

He ignored her, still talking to me. "You need to get one of those machines like they have at Kohl's."

I finally had heard enough. We are a liquor store. We sell the ol' "pain-go-bye-bye juice". Kohl's sells fucking khaki pants and coffee makers, and are less likely to have desperate, check-stealing felons for customers. If Kohl's ever decides to acquire a chain of liquor stores, perhaps in their naivete they'll allow checks; but until then, tough shit. Before walking away, I said "Well, we don't take checks, sir. Have a nice day."

Know that if anyone in retail ever says "Have a nice day" they really mean "Go fuck yourself."

Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving, I suppose.


When I was managing a truck tire store in Knoxville, a guy walked in dressed in a ripped t shirt and filthy work pants. He spit into a cup and then said, "You'uns doin' any hirin'? Ah needs a job." I told him that the University of TN was hiring.

Blogger dizzy von damn! said...

best thanksgiving post of the year, thank you.

You should have had the guy with "Frank" as his reference come in for an interview for fun. When you get to the references on the app, be outraged and tell him that "Frank" had sex with your wife and stole money from you.

Blogger Ćœbermilf said...

So if someone says "Go fuck yourself" are they really telling me to have a nice day? Does it work the opposite?

Blogger Marv said...

Hey, Frank's great. I bet he's a better reference than any of you bozos could use. Can't believe you're knocking Frank. YOU DON'T KNOW FRANK, YOU SONS A BITCHES!

I love you, Frank. R.I.P.

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