Hubby and I went to see the new (er) Star Trek movie last night, at the cheap theater. Yes, the same cheap theater where we'd previously had to deal with the phone-lady. We sat in our seats, and a family consisting of a man and two teenage daughters sat right in front of us. The two teens had a digital camera, which they used to take a plethora of FLASH photos of themselves. After about the 14th flash I was ready to tell them to ram it, but luckily they turned it off when the previews started.
As the movie started, a very large man pushed past us to sit one chair away from me. Nothing like having ass in your face as someone shoves past you! He sat down and sprawled out, resting his arm on the chair next to me. Any time I moved significantly, he'd look over and stare. (Throughout the entire movie!) For the next 2.5 hours, this guy was obnoxious! He would repeat dialogue as if he were learning lines. After awhile hubby and I started saying, "Nannoo Nanoo!" whenever a Vulcan character would give the sign. At one point I was nudging hubby to look; onscreen Spock was giving the Vulcan sign and saying, "Live long and prosper!" and the guy was sitting there with his hand extended, giving the sign BACK TO THE SCREEN! I almost wet my pants laughing, hubby made an exclamation when he saw the guy do it, neither one of us could believe what we were seeing, and both agreed that had we NOT seen it ourselves, we would not have believed it coming from someone else! It was very hard for either of us to stop laughing.
At one point the guy wadded up some trash, looked around to see if anyone was looking, and then threw it over towards the side aisle where others were sitting. I was tempted to retrieve it and hand it back to him and tell him Mr. Spock told me to. What a loser.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
White Trash Updates
*Brandon the Skinhead is in jail, that's why we have not heard from him. I found him on the Department of Corrections web site. Interestingly, I also found several pain in the butt customers on the sex offender registry as well. Guess there's a reason I don't like them! The one who has a thing for 4 and 7 year old girls, was especially NOT surprising. Maybe if I wear pigtails and shave my cooter we can relate better!
What is up with white teenage girls who have MULTIPLE biracial children? (Or any teenage girl with MULTIPLE children for gawd's sakes??) But it's like an epidemic lately, young teen with multiple little kids who look like mommy and the daddy didn't even wait for six weeks between conception(s)! Do these teen moms not figure out what causes this? Why do this over and over? It's not like being a single mom to little kids with deadbeat daddies is any fun! (Or is it, and we don't know what we are missing? Is it the DRAMA?)
Today we also enjoyed another little white trash teenage moron pet peeve: employees who have their boyfriends visiting and are too busy talking to them to help their customers; especially when there is NO manager on duty at the time and they are like unleashed zoo animals. Yes I do love seeing you in a steamy embrace with your boyfriend (how does he keep that pick in his hair?) while I'm trying to get some help! We also had the pleasure of watching a Sam's Club employee stand in the dairy cooler with the door wide open, while he texted on his phone. I needed IN where he was standing; he just didn't seem to realize that anything but his phone existed. Finally he heard my husband making comments, and shut the cooler door and walked away. Come to think of it, we see a lot of employees texting on the job these days. Talk about stealing from your employer; not to mention the poor customer service this entails.
What is up with white teenage girls who have MULTIPLE biracial children? (Or any teenage girl with MULTIPLE children for gawd's sakes??) But it's like an epidemic lately, young teen with multiple little kids who look like mommy and the daddy didn't even wait for six weeks between conception(s)! Do these teen moms not figure out what causes this? Why do this over and over? It's not like being a single mom to little kids with deadbeat daddies is any fun! (Or is it, and we don't know what we are missing? Is it the DRAMA?)
Today we also enjoyed another little white trash teenage moron pet peeve: employees who have their boyfriends visiting and are too busy talking to them to help their customers; especially when there is NO manager on duty at the time and they are like unleashed zoo animals. Yes I do love seeing you in a steamy embrace with your boyfriend (how does he keep that pick in his hair?) while I'm trying to get some help! We also had the pleasure of watching a Sam's Club employee stand in the dairy cooler with the door wide open, while he texted on his phone. I needed IN where he was standing; he just didn't seem to realize that anything but his phone existed. Finally he heard my husband making comments, and shut the cooler door and walked away. Come to think of it, we see a lot of employees texting on the job these days. Talk about stealing from your employer; not to mention the poor customer service this entails.
Monday, June 22, 2009
White Trash Week in Review
Let's see, oh yes. One day last week as I was on my way into the shop, MM stops me outside the door and asks me if I'll give her a ride down the street. She said that the two bags (one was loaded with what looked like vodka bottles, I swear!) she had were too heavy for her to carry all that way and could I just 'take a minute' and give her a ride down the street? I told her I was sorry but I was on my way inside (do you SEE me in a car right now?) and had to clock in. She whined, "But it will only take a minute and these bags are toooo heaaveyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" I demurred and said I was late already, sorry. (It's called 'employment', try it sometime!) I forgot, she has no idea about responsibility. Silly me. Besides, after all the times this annoying bint has slammed the phone down in my ear, she can walk her skanky ass to her destination!
Crazy Biatch never disappoints. The last trip in she would not shut up; but she has a new job! As a nurse in an elder-care facility! (I tried to pry the name out of her so I would never send any of my loved ones there!) She went on and on and on about how the director there 'recognized her name'. Yes I 'm sure he did, he remembers all the people who could not stand her at her OTHER jobs! If she's like this out in public, imagine how she is at a job. It makes me physically ill. She claims she is an R.N.; I can't personally see it but what do I know. This trip, I had to use my cell phone to make the shop phone ring so I could get away from her, she would NOT!SHUT!UP!
Sloth came in with a DVD player. Now, not sure if I mentioned the time that Mrs. Sloth opened her purse and live roaches ran out of it? It did not faze her ONE BIT, so you know their house is crawling with 'em. (Shudder!) I plugged in Sloth's DVD player and hit the 'open' button to put in a movie; out pops the sliding door with roach legs and roach crap all over! I refused to take the DVD player and he acted like I was trying to explain Physics to him. Duh, it's full of roaches, no can take, ya got it? He brought in some DVD's and again some had roach debris in them, so I gave them back to him. What part of 'we don't want your roach-infested stuff" do you not get?
Another lady came in with a stack of DVD's to sell, one that I opened had a large roach in it; it flipped out onto my arm and I screamed (can't help it!) Luckily the roach was dead. She kept saying, "That wasn't IN MY HOUSE!" Where else did you keep the DVD's, lady?
At least the Dog Terrorizor and Brandon the Skinhead don't come in any more. There's a silver lining to the Moron Cloud after all!
Crazy Biatch never disappoints. The last trip in she would not shut up; but she has a new job! As a nurse in an elder-care facility! (I tried to pry the name out of her so I would never send any of my loved ones there!) She went on and on and on about how the director there 'recognized her name'. Yes I 'm sure he did, he remembers all the people who could not stand her at her OTHER jobs! If she's like this out in public, imagine how she is at a job. It makes me physically ill. She claims she is an R.N.; I can't personally see it but what do I know. This trip, I had to use my cell phone to make the shop phone ring so I could get away from her, she would NOT!SHUT!UP!
Sloth came in with a DVD player. Now, not sure if I mentioned the time that Mrs. Sloth opened her purse and live roaches ran out of it? It did not faze her ONE BIT, so you know their house is crawling with 'em. (Shudder!) I plugged in Sloth's DVD player and hit the 'open' button to put in a movie; out pops the sliding door with roach legs and roach crap all over! I refused to take the DVD player and he acted like I was trying to explain Physics to him. Duh, it's full of roaches, no can take, ya got it? He brought in some DVD's and again some had roach debris in them, so I gave them back to him. What part of 'we don't want your roach-infested stuff" do you not get?
Another lady came in with a stack of DVD's to sell, one that I opened had a large roach in it; it flipped out onto my arm and I screamed (can't help it!) Luckily the roach was dead. She kept saying, "That wasn't IN MY HOUSE!" Where else did you keep the DVD's, lady?
At least the Dog Terrorizor and Brandon the Skinhead don't come in any more. There's a silver lining to the Moron Cloud after all!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Mother Of The Year!
Gal comes in today wanting to sell some movies. She says, "We have no food in the house and I'm pregnant (shows little belly)!" I paid her a few dollars for the movies, and she left. She's covered in tattoos and piercings and has an ID from another state; obviously she's a happening chick!
She came back many hours later with an Eminem-wannabe; obviously her Babydaddy. They brought in another stack of movies, and also the overwhelming stench of marijuana. At first I thought it was just him, but when he left to continue his conversation on the phone (trying to sound like a mid-level gangsta but only sounding like Vanilla Ice!) she stepped to the counter and the smell was gagfully REEKING from her. Great, you are pregnant and smoking like a broken chimney. I wish there was a child welfare agency around here that would do something to a parent like this. It's disgusting to think that she's probably well on her way to populating the state with numerous kids while ingesting various drugs. What a winner! Pro Life at it's finest!
She came back many hours later with an Eminem-wannabe; obviously her Babydaddy. They brought in another stack of movies, and also the overwhelming stench of marijuana. At first I thought it was just him, but when he left to continue his conversation on the phone (trying to sound like a mid-level gangsta but only sounding like Vanilla Ice!) she stepped to the counter and the smell was gagfully REEKING from her. Great, you are pregnant and smoking like a broken chimney. I wish there was a child welfare agency around here that would do something to a parent like this. It's disgusting to think that she's probably well on her way to populating the state with numerous kids while ingesting various drugs. What a winner! Pro Life at it's finest!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Freecycle Idiotry
I'm sure you have seen ads like this on Freecycle:
"Wanted: any and all baby stuff, I'm going to have a baby and can't afford anything!" Chances are pretty good it's someone who is reselling baby stuff for a profit, but....if not, isn't birth control cheaper than a baby? If you can't afford a baby why risk having one?
"Wanted: any and all wedding stuff, getting married and can't afford it!" Clue for you, sister: if you can't afford anything for your wedding, you can't afford to be married! Do you think the Magickal Money Fairy will whip money out of her nether regions to pay your bills?
My other favorite: "Wanted: Pure bred dog of certain breed/birds/other pet, cannot afford to buy one but will love it!" What about when it gets sick and needs vet care? What about when it needs DECENT food and not Ol' Roy? If you can't even afford the Humane Society adoption fee to rescue a pet in need, what makes you think you can afford to care for a pet over the course of its lifetime? (Oh but wait, morons don't think about these things)
Kind of reminds me of the time we were giving away our very nice recliner on Freecycle. Hated to do it but we had no room. The lady who came to get it called me on my cell phone (we were not home at the time) and said she saw one of our outdoor cats and wanted to take it home. I told her it had a respiratory illness and needed vet care for antibiotics; she said, "OH I don't have any money. Let me know when you take it to the vet and I'll come get it!" My jaw almost broke the phone as it fell open. I gently asked, 'If you can't afford a vet what happens if she gets sick later? What about when she needs to be spayed?" She replied, "Well we don't have any money for stuff like that. She'll be an indoor cat so she don't need to be spayed." I told her no, I'm sorry, kitty has to stay with us. What an IDIOT. She begged and pleaded a couple of times and went on about how her husband just loved the kitty; I told her I'm sorry the kitty is sick, she can't go anywhere right now. She ended the call with, "Well when you get her better, let me know, I'll take her!" Oh I just bet you would. I'd rather the cat live here outdoors as a well-fed stray than go to who knows what kind of living hell at your house. At least she'll get vet care if she needs it. As we have a webcam focused onto the front of the house, we replayed the video of this woman and her family when we got home; I wanted to see if they LOOKED like white trash morons. The verdict? Guilty guilty guilty, lifetime sentence for exceeding the legal limit of white trash moron-ness!
"Wanted: any and all baby stuff, I'm going to have a baby and can't afford anything!" Chances are pretty good it's someone who is reselling baby stuff for a profit, but....if not, isn't birth control cheaper than a baby? If you can't afford a baby why risk having one?
"Wanted: any and all wedding stuff, getting married and can't afford it!" Clue for you, sister: if you can't afford anything for your wedding, you can't afford to be married! Do you think the Magickal Money Fairy will whip money out of her nether regions to pay your bills?
My other favorite: "Wanted: Pure bred dog of certain breed/birds/other pet, cannot afford to buy one but will love it!" What about when it gets sick and needs vet care? What about when it needs DECENT food and not Ol' Roy? If you can't even afford the Humane Society adoption fee to rescue a pet in need, what makes you think you can afford to care for a pet over the course of its lifetime? (Oh but wait, morons don't think about these things)
Kind of reminds me of the time we were giving away our very nice recliner on Freecycle. Hated to do it but we had no room. The lady who came to get it called me on my cell phone (we were not home at the time) and said she saw one of our outdoor cats and wanted to take it home. I told her it had a respiratory illness and needed vet care for antibiotics; she said, "OH I don't have any money. Let me know when you take it to the vet and I'll come get it!" My jaw almost broke the phone as it fell open. I gently asked, 'If you can't afford a vet what happens if she gets sick later? What about when she needs to be spayed?" She replied, "Well we don't have any money for stuff like that. She'll be an indoor cat so she don't need to be spayed." I told her no, I'm sorry, kitty has to stay with us. What an IDIOT. She begged and pleaded a couple of times and went on about how her husband just loved the kitty; I told her I'm sorry the kitty is sick, she can't go anywhere right now. She ended the call with, "Well when you get her better, let me know, I'll take her!" Oh I just bet you would. I'd rather the cat live here outdoors as a well-fed stray than go to who knows what kind of living hell at your house. At least she'll get vet care if she needs it. As we have a webcam focused onto the front of the house, we replayed the video of this woman and her family when we got home; I wanted to see if they LOOKED like white trash morons. The verdict? Guilty guilty guilty, lifetime sentence for exceeding the legal limit of white trash moron-ness!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
WACKTARD WEDNESDAY
I had to come home and take a couple of Excedrin tonight after work.
We have a long time customer, let's call her MM. She has this annoying propensity to call the shop and ask questions about what we would loan on this or that, and if she doesn't like what she hears (normally from me), she hangs up. You can be right in the middle of talking and she'll just slam the receiver down. Sometimes she'll sit and argue; I guess she is blissfully unaware that we have Caller I.D. and I wonder if she knows how many times her hang-ups have resulted in lowered loan amounts for her that day? :-) Yes I'm just kind of petty that way. She has lost many items, so it's quite amazing that she'll stand right in your face and argue flat out, when you won't give her more on something than you normally give. She loves to use the, "I'm a long time customer!" line, and she denies it hotly every time it's pointed out that she has a 30% unredeemed rate on her loans. It's as if someone else pawned and lost this crap, not her! It's not so, and you'd better not try to say differently! (Though I do just to shut her up before her drug-addled mind blows up) Today she came in, I smiled at her and greeted her even though inside I could feel the blood pressure ratcheting up in anticipation of her being her normal, druggie unpleasant self. I asked her, what can I do for you? She said, "I'm so excited, my husband just called and he has a new spirit guide! A red fox approached him at work today!" Now, my first reaction is not something printable. I wanted to grab my chest and stumble around and say, "Lizbeth, this is the big one, I'm coming to see you honey" and then ask her, didn't Redd Foxx die a long time ago? (har har). Either that or ask her, "What in the hell did you SMOKE TODAY?" But no, I just smiled and said, "Wow, that's unbelievable!" and she exclaimed, "Yeah right? Isn't it great? I'm so happy for him!" I wanted to ask her, does this mean the Weed God isn't his spirit guide any more. After having to give her back a bunch of her DVD's (the same ones that I always give back to her, because we don't take them, but she insists on bringing them back IN CASE someone is stupid enough to take them) we finished her loan and she left, waving and giddily saying, "Goodbye!"
Another gal came in today. Let's call her Nelly. She's a real winner. She used to come in and cash her many Social Security and Babydaddy checks, and she would spend an UNGODLY amount of time telling me all her business. I never did act interested, I only smiled and nodded politely while desperately trying to find other customers to wait on. But she's one of those people who just can't take a hint, as long as you are standing within a few feet of her you are a captive audience. Let's see, her man at the time was in jail, he'd hit her over the years but he was her soul mate, she had just had his name tattooed all over herself, SRS had gotten involved and taken one of her kids because he was a little rough with one of them (though she was sure that the kid was just making it up, her man couldn't possibly be guilty), he was writing her from jail that he was wanting to start all over and how he LOVED HER and she just could not wait for him to get out, etc. How they were going to work on his cheating problem, how he had changed, etc. Yes, you know all that usual story! I had not seen her in about two years, and today she walked in with one of our regulars (whom I like) and her man, who was toting a toddler. This woman is about 6 feet tall and hairy, she looks like a hairy feminine man. Her husband looks like a hairy caveman. Both of them are tattooed to the gills, they both have unibrows, they both smell from lack of regular bathing. She has in the past complained how she doesn't have enough money to live on, all the while buying copious amounts of DVD's and knives; the typical handout queen. She would bring in all kinds of junk and want loans on it, and be very rude if we turned it down. She would push and push to the point that you'd just want to smack her.
She dragged her man and her mini-man toddler (smaller version of the parents, obviously inheriting the worst of all their genetics, underbite included) up to the counter while my brother and I were standing there and said, "See our little miracle!" The first thing that went through my mind was, "It's a miracle you got laid!" I just smiled and nodded and murmured how cute...(is it a boy or girl!?!?!?! CRAP!!)..their baby was. As they were walking to the door my brother leaned over and whispered, "It's a miracle you got a dick in you!" I all but peed my pants laughing right then and there!
Today Crazy Biatch came in. That's the nice version of what we all call her. She is just about this side of crazy. This woman has been a pain in the ass every minute since I first had to deal with her. First of all, she does not deal well with women. The other gals who have worked at the shop ALL had issues with her of one kind or another. Get her a male employee however and she is a different person altogether! She's bold and she tries to flirt and gets this high, giddy inflection in her voice. It's a creepy kind of fascinating. She used to call years ago from her job at Wal-mart and say she could not come get her loan that day, because she was out of town. (Isn't that nice Wal-Mart here in town could give you a phone to use all the way in wherever you say you are?) This happened a lot. Not only would she say she was out of town but she'd go on and on with some story du jour; it was really a waste of time. You could sit on the phone listening to her story about why she could not come out, watching time fly by on the wall clock. I finally got to the point where I'd just cut her off and say, "And what day will you be here?" She did NOT like this at all and started to get very rude, huffy, and short with me any time she dealt with me after that. ("OH no she knows I"m full of shit!") I know it's rude to interrupt a customer but come on, how many times are you going to call and spin a tale, why can't you just SAY you aren't coming in and leave it at that? NO ONE CARES about your made-up stories that just get more whacked out by the month! She's also one of these Gladys Kravitz type women; she would listen in on employees talking to each other behind the counter (relaying needed info back and forth about this customer or that loan or whatever the question was) and she'd ask, "What? What about ___?" "They did what/they brought what in?" things like that. An employee could walk by and say to me in a low voice, "I put that last loan on shelf so and so if you need to write it down" and she'd lean in and demand, "WHAT did he say?" I told her oh, nothing! And she would insist on knowing what was said, as if her very life depended on it. (Is she a touch paranoid maybe?) If I told her some version of a nice 'it has nothing to do with you' she acted like I had just insulted her to the highest. She has even listened in to conversations of customers in front of her in line, and then asked myself or other employees what we were talking about. Maybe her mother never taught her any better? If you won't tell her, she just gets frigidly hostile. (So now I pretend I don't hear her, or misunderstand her and just smile sweetly at her, which makes her even nuttier! HA!) The very last straw for me was two years ago; she had called in repeatedly to delay a loan that was due, to the point it was three weeks past its due date. This being late stuff was getting to be a routine for her by then. Finally after it was three weeks past due (any other company would have just deposited the check the day it was due!) she calls again and needs another week extension, because her car 'was still in the shop'. She had been talking to other people when she'd called in before, so I had no idea what her excuse had been (nor did I care!). She started in with her sad tale of woe, how her car was still in the shop, she couldn't possibly come in anytime soon to pick up the check; she then went on and on and on into this elaborate tale about mechanics and cars until I just said, "Well, let's not worry about you having to find a way over here, I can just deposit this check and that will save you a trip!" She sat there in silence for a minute, like she could not believe what was being said (because that is not what she expected to hear.) What better solution to someone who has been having transportation troubles for three weeks, than to deposit the check and save her a trip? Apparently she took this as me being hateful to her, and so re-launched her long story about the car. I finally interrupted her and asked, "What date will you be in, please? We've already held it three weeks so we need to get this closed very soon. I would be happy to deposit this so you don't have to worry about getting down here, i'd be glad to do that for you." NO! SHE DID NOT WANT IT DEPOSITED! She would be in within a few days! Ok, fine, I made a note (under all the other notes from all the other times she'd called and told her story and said she'd be in!) and then forgot all about Crazy Biatch. She did call back and ask 'for the owner' but hung up before I could put him on the phone. I guess she does not know we are all related and it doesn't matter.
But Crazy Biatch didn't forget about ME! She came in a week later and I had to help her since no one else was available. I smiled at her and greeted her and she just stood there with her mouth in a tight line and frowning. I asked her, what day do you want this on, we need to get this back on your payday so what day works for you?" Apropo of NOTHING she says, "My car REALLY DID BREAK DOWN!" She said it in such a pissed off, fuming, I've-been-sitting-on-this-for-years way that it almost made me take a step back. I told her, that's ok, I'm just concerned about getting your loan back on your payday so it's convenient for you again. She leaned forward, mouth tight, face red, and insisted, "NO REALLY. My car really did break down. I can bring the receipt if you don't believe me!" (WHAT THE HELL is your problem lady?) I told her, no that's ok, let's deal with the loan we have right now, what day is good for you?" Again, she insisted, "I have the receipt, I'll bring it, my car DID break down, I can prove it! I know you don't believe me" I finally lost it, and said, "I don't care about the car, we are past the car, we are in the here and now so let's get this one set up for you, ok?" She didn't speak to me the rest of the time she was there. If only it could always be so.
Last year she came in, and my brother waited on her. She leaned forward and said something to him, that he could not understand. He leaned forward and asked, her, "What?" She shook her head back and forth and said, "Nevermind!" So he didn't mind. He processed her loan, sent her on her way. About an hour later she called the shop and spoke to my dad, and said that she had told 'that young man' to turn her check over and he had ignored her! Luckily she was told it just had to be a misunderstanding because none of our employees would treat you that way on purpose, etc. When my dad mentioned this to my brother, we were both astounded that she had dared act like this. I was standing nearby and I had witnessed the whole thing and he had indeed leaned forward to ask her what she had said. She is really a nutball. After that day she became my dad's customer!
Two weeks after this phone call she comes in again, and I notice that she won't approach the counter anytime someone who is un-white is nearby. She would get close, and up would walk someone who was black or Hispanic, and bam she'd walk away and circle like a plane waiting for the runway to clear so she could land. Finally she got to the counter; I saw her there yet walked past her and waited on a young Asian girl who had just walked up to pay her bill! (I know, that's so petty, but give me a break, this lady is a conductor on the Crazy Train!) Luckily, my dad was available to help her after that (or.... not so lucky) He took her loan paperwork out of the folder and started to work on it; she reached over and turned the check upside down while he was reading it. He flipped it back over so he could continue working; she reached over and flipped it right back over. Now his first mistake was putting the stuff where she could reach it; I never put the loan paperwork where someone could just reach over and grab the check (what if they didn't pay for it first? Then we'd have nothing to deposit!). My brother and I both saw the Crazy Biatch do this and neither one of us could BELIEVE what we were seeing. She leaned in and started talking to my dad and I could hear bits and pieces; she claimed that 'some black guy stole my checking account information by looking over my shoulder!" I'm not even going to go into how ridiculous she is. How would you know who and when it happened, when you write loans ALL OVER TOWN you imbecile? So after she left, my dad shook his head and we commiserated with him.
When she came in two weeks later, I had to help her this time. I tried to avoid her; by this point every time she walked in the door my brother would yell, "Your customer" and run into the back, or he'd suddenly say, "OH I have to go to the bathroom!" and disappear. This time, I was stuck with her. I took her loan papers and put them behind the monitor so she could not reach them; it was like a tribe of ants were marching in her pants watching her squirm this way and twist that way trying to see how she could grab that check. I swear to you, if she had reached a hand over into my space to grab that check I would have smacked it for her! But we processed her loan and she did a lot of mumbling at me, but she never said anything I could hear or understand. I smiled at her the whole time, made small talk chit chatting about the weather but she never would address what was really bothering her; maybe she's just passive-aggressive. She didn't call and tattle on me!
Two weeks later, my dad has to help her again. This time I saw her get out of her car and all but grabbed the next two customers so I would not have to put up with her. FIrst she reached over and grabbed all the loan papers (including check) and scooted them far away from dad, turning the check over while she did so. He reached over and took them back, again she reached over and turned the check upside down while dad was trying to type from it; this is after she spent ten minutes circling the store waiting for all the NON WHITE PEOPLE to leave the counter. She would just crap if we had any minorities working for us; I'm sure she'd claim they stole her identity too. (WHO would want to BE HER? SHE can't even stand to be her!) Dad put up with her crap again, and she left. She made some jokes and comments to him before she left, that she thought were funny. I stood there with a fake smile pasted all over my face and trying to pretend to laugh like I thought what she was saying was funny (because that's about the only way to really get any kind of positive reaction from her). But inside my mouth was hanging open that someone could be that goofy and still function in society somehow.
She came in again a few more times and I had to wait on her, and she keeps making flipping motions like she wants me to flip the check over (since I don't let her touch it). The more you don't do it, the madder she gets and the more she makes the flipping motion until it looks like she's damned near having a seizure at the counter. All the while she mouths "TURN IT TURN IT". Finally I said, it's covered, don't worry about it, I have it taken care of. But that's not good enough for her, she can't stand not being able to touch it and flip it over. If a non-white person walks up while we are doing her loan, she all but jumps over the counter to turn that check over. I just want to tell her to grow up, that white people steal information too so deal with it. At any rate the last few times she's been in she's been going off about her life and she's so mental, it's hard to say anything back to her and not have it sound as annoyed as I feel. Supposedly she's been a nurse (oh my GOD!) and she was running off about how some patient's doctor told her to do this and this but she knew better so she didn't. How predatory all these payday loan places are (yet when I mention how no one holds guns to people's heads and makes them write the checks, she gets very angry and her face turns red!) How she has this friend or that friend who doesn't have a car so she's calling the television stations trying to drum up sympathy to get them cars (I almost asked her why she didn't recommend her mechanic. HA HA.) Then she mentioned how some very annoying publicity-hound car dealership manager would probably donate a car if she called enough TV stations; this guy is a notorious P.R. hound and he only does 'charity' when it will get him good P.R., everyone in town knows it and I especially find him fake since I met him a few times while at his dealership getting my car serviced. He is as smarmy and fake as any politician. (You watch, someday you'll see a notice in my blog that he's running for office!) Anyway I just HAD to make a comment like, "____ will do anything for publicity!" And that set Crazy Biatch OFF like I'd just insulted her daddy! I just smiled at her after she made a bunch of self-defensive comments and changed the subject; she apparently has a hard time letting go of the last time in the conversation you pissed her off because she brought up the smarmy car dealer several more times (probably hoping to get a rise going?). Every time she brought his name up, I sighed sweetly, looked heavenward, made prayer-hands and said dreamily, "He's such a good man. He's a saint!" She eventually gave up. Then she started in with how she and a friend were going to get churches to give them money to get them out of their payday loans. It took nothing short of an iron fist to the lips to keep my mouth shut. One of my biggest peeves is people who go around getting money from churches that they do not deserve! You don't need money from the church to pay off your payday loan because you are poor; there are infinitely more people in more need for church money and here this psychotic twat is scamming to get a church to pay off her payday loan. (She'll just be back two months later to write another!) Finally, Crazy Biatch hit my limit of fake nice. She is anyone's customer but mine from now on. Just....can't....fake....it....any....more!
The drunk guy who always has a story about why he needs a loan came in; about 75% of the time he will make a comment like, "I wish you weren't married" or some such catchy line. Every time he hits on me I tell myself that someday I'll tell him, "I'm allergic to the stench of old beer" but never do. At any rate he tried, again, to convince me that we had loaned a huge amount on his crappy old tools in the past, yet I found an amount about half of what he claimed. Then he said, "These are great tools, you SHOULD lend me $50!" I asked him why would I lend you $50 today on tools we lent you $20 on six years ago, they don't appreciate in value. He did accept his usual amount. He needed to go get beer, after all. We wouldn't want to sober up so we could get a job! What is so sad is that he has the skills to make a lot of money, but whenever he gets a job (about every two years) he gets fired within a few months because he can't stop having accidents at work due to his alcoholism. It's sad to think that he works in manufacturing plants with machinery that could harm OTHERS due to his negligence, but he could care less about anything besides the booze. What a waste.
And finally we have a bonafide paranoid schizo coming in, who is NOT regular with his medications. At first I just thought he was rude; he has yelled at other employees and he yelled at me once (I just kept on walking like I didn't hear him screaming in anger). Then he started going off at one of our employees about soldiers and wars and Jesus and...my GOD...too many things to even remember. It was all violent and scary and totally crazy. His daughter came in that day and led him away. What is so scary, is that he buys knives. Before I knew he was schizo, I always had this weird feeling from him that always made me step away out of reach after I'd handed him a knife; now I sound paranoid huh! But he just gives off this vibe, and he LOOKS like he is just >thisclose< to killing you with his bare hands every time he looks at you or talks to you. The more you talk to him, it's like he gets crazier by the word. Some days are much better than others; in fact the other day he came in and was so civil and polite and 'normal' you'd never know anything was wrong with him. I personally don't feel comfortable selling him weapons considering how unsafe I feel in his presence but there is nothing that says he CAN'T have weaponry. A gun, I could refuse to sell him (and we all would!). UPDATE: He's been getting his meds regularly and has come to trust us, so he's not bad any more. Thank goodness!
We have a long time customer, let's call her MM. She has this annoying propensity to call the shop and ask questions about what we would loan on this or that, and if she doesn't like what she hears (normally from me), she hangs up. You can be right in the middle of talking and she'll just slam the receiver down. Sometimes she'll sit and argue; I guess she is blissfully unaware that we have Caller I.D. and I wonder if she knows how many times her hang-ups have resulted in lowered loan amounts for her that day? :-) Yes I'm just kind of petty that way. She has lost many items, so it's quite amazing that she'll stand right in your face and argue flat out, when you won't give her more on something than you normally give. She loves to use the, "I'm a long time customer!" line, and she denies it hotly every time it's pointed out that she has a 30% unredeemed rate on her loans. It's as if someone else pawned and lost this crap, not her! It's not so, and you'd better not try to say differently! (Though I do just to shut her up before her drug-addled mind blows up) Today she came in, I smiled at her and greeted her even though inside I could feel the blood pressure ratcheting up in anticipation of her being her normal, druggie unpleasant self. I asked her, what can I do for you? She said, "I'm so excited, my husband just called and he has a new spirit guide! A red fox approached him at work today!" Now, my first reaction is not something printable. I wanted to grab my chest and stumble around and say, "Lizbeth, this is the big one, I'm coming to see you honey" and then ask her, didn't Redd Foxx die a long time ago? (har har). Either that or ask her, "What in the hell did you SMOKE TODAY?" But no, I just smiled and said, "Wow, that's unbelievable!" and she exclaimed, "Yeah right? Isn't it great? I'm so happy for him!" I wanted to ask her, does this mean the Weed God isn't his spirit guide any more. After having to give her back a bunch of her DVD's (the same ones that I always give back to her, because we don't take them, but she insists on bringing them back IN CASE someone is stupid enough to take them) we finished her loan and she left, waving and giddily saying, "Goodbye!"
Another gal came in today. Let's call her Nelly. She's a real winner. She used to come in and cash her many Social Security and Babydaddy checks, and she would spend an UNGODLY amount of time telling me all her business. I never did act interested, I only smiled and nodded politely while desperately trying to find other customers to wait on. But she's one of those people who just can't take a hint, as long as you are standing within a few feet of her you are a captive audience. Let's see, her man at the time was in jail, he'd hit her over the years but he was her soul mate, she had just had his name tattooed all over herself, SRS had gotten involved and taken one of her kids because he was a little rough with one of them (though she was sure that the kid was just making it up, her man couldn't possibly be guilty), he was writing her from jail that he was wanting to start all over and how he LOVED HER and she just could not wait for him to get out, etc. How they were going to work on his cheating problem, how he had changed, etc. Yes, you know all that usual story! I had not seen her in about two years, and today she walked in with one of our regulars (whom I like) and her man, who was toting a toddler. This woman is about 6 feet tall and hairy, she looks like a hairy feminine man. Her husband looks like a hairy caveman. Both of them are tattooed to the gills, they both have unibrows, they both smell from lack of regular bathing. She has in the past complained how she doesn't have enough money to live on, all the while buying copious amounts of DVD's and knives; the typical handout queen. She would bring in all kinds of junk and want loans on it, and be very rude if we turned it down. She would push and push to the point that you'd just want to smack her.
She dragged her man and her mini-man toddler (smaller version of the parents, obviously inheriting the worst of all their genetics, underbite included) up to the counter while my brother and I were standing there and said, "See our little miracle!" The first thing that went through my mind was, "It's a miracle you got laid!" I just smiled and nodded and murmured how cute...(is it a boy or girl!?!?!?! CRAP!!)..their baby was. As they were walking to the door my brother leaned over and whispered, "It's a miracle you got a dick in you!" I all but peed my pants laughing right then and there!
Today Crazy Biatch came in. That's the nice version of what we all call her. She is just about this side of crazy. This woman has been a pain in the ass every minute since I first had to deal with her. First of all, she does not deal well with women. The other gals who have worked at the shop ALL had issues with her of one kind or another. Get her a male employee however and she is a different person altogether! She's bold and she tries to flirt and gets this high, giddy inflection in her voice. It's a creepy kind of fascinating. She used to call years ago from her job at Wal-mart and say she could not come get her loan that day, because she was out of town. (Isn't that nice Wal-Mart here in town could give you a phone to use all the way in wherever you say you are?) This happened a lot. Not only would she say she was out of town but she'd go on and on with some story du jour; it was really a waste of time. You could sit on the phone listening to her story about why she could not come out, watching time fly by on the wall clock. I finally got to the point where I'd just cut her off and say, "And what day will you be here?" She did NOT like this at all and started to get very rude, huffy, and short with me any time she dealt with me after that. ("OH no she knows I"m full of shit!") I know it's rude to interrupt a customer but come on, how many times are you going to call and spin a tale, why can't you just SAY you aren't coming in and leave it at that? NO ONE CARES about your made-up stories that just get more whacked out by the month! She's also one of these Gladys Kravitz type women; she would listen in on employees talking to each other behind the counter (relaying needed info back and forth about this customer or that loan or whatever the question was) and she'd ask, "What? What about ___?" "They did what/they brought what in?" things like that. An employee could walk by and say to me in a low voice, "I put that last loan on shelf so and so if you need to write it down" and she'd lean in and demand, "WHAT did he say?" I told her oh, nothing! And she would insist on knowing what was said, as if her very life depended on it. (Is she a touch paranoid maybe?) If I told her some version of a nice 'it has nothing to do with you' she acted like I had just insulted her to the highest. She has even listened in to conversations of customers in front of her in line, and then asked myself or other employees what we were talking about. Maybe her mother never taught her any better? If you won't tell her, she just gets frigidly hostile. (So now I pretend I don't hear her, or misunderstand her and just smile sweetly at her, which makes her even nuttier! HA!) The very last straw for me was two years ago; she had called in repeatedly to delay a loan that was due, to the point it was three weeks past its due date. This being late stuff was getting to be a routine for her by then. Finally after it was three weeks past due (any other company would have just deposited the check the day it was due!) she calls again and needs another week extension, because her car 'was still in the shop'. She had been talking to other people when she'd called in before, so I had no idea what her excuse had been (nor did I care!). She started in with her sad tale of woe, how her car was still in the shop, she couldn't possibly come in anytime soon to pick up the check; she then went on and on and on into this elaborate tale about mechanics and cars until I just said, "Well, let's not worry about you having to find a way over here, I can just deposit this check and that will save you a trip!" She sat there in silence for a minute, like she could not believe what was being said (because that is not what she expected to hear.) What better solution to someone who has been having transportation troubles for three weeks, than to deposit the check and save her a trip? Apparently she took this as me being hateful to her, and so re-launched her long story about the car. I finally interrupted her and asked, "What date will you be in, please? We've already held it three weeks so we need to get this closed very soon. I would be happy to deposit this so you don't have to worry about getting down here, i'd be glad to do that for you." NO! SHE DID NOT WANT IT DEPOSITED! She would be in within a few days! Ok, fine, I made a note (under all the other notes from all the other times she'd called and told her story and said she'd be in!) and then forgot all about Crazy Biatch. She did call back and ask 'for the owner' but hung up before I could put him on the phone. I guess she does not know we are all related and it doesn't matter.
But Crazy Biatch didn't forget about ME! She came in a week later and I had to help her since no one else was available. I smiled at her and greeted her and she just stood there with her mouth in a tight line and frowning. I asked her, what day do you want this on, we need to get this back on your payday so what day works for you?" Apropo of NOTHING she says, "My car REALLY DID BREAK DOWN!" She said it in such a pissed off, fuming, I've-been-sitting-on-this-for-years way that it almost made me take a step back. I told her, that's ok, I'm just concerned about getting your loan back on your payday so it's convenient for you again. She leaned forward, mouth tight, face red, and insisted, "NO REALLY. My car really did break down. I can bring the receipt if you don't believe me!" (WHAT THE HELL is your problem lady?) I told her, no that's ok, let's deal with the loan we have right now, what day is good for you?" Again, she insisted, "I have the receipt, I'll bring it, my car DID break down, I can prove it! I know you don't believe me" I finally lost it, and said, "I don't care about the car, we are past the car, we are in the here and now so let's get this one set up for you, ok?" She didn't speak to me the rest of the time she was there. If only it could always be so.
Last year she came in, and my brother waited on her. She leaned forward and said something to him, that he could not understand. He leaned forward and asked, her, "What?" She shook her head back and forth and said, "Nevermind!" So he didn't mind. He processed her loan, sent her on her way. About an hour later she called the shop and spoke to my dad, and said that she had told 'that young man' to turn her check over and he had ignored her! Luckily she was told it just had to be a misunderstanding because none of our employees would treat you that way on purpose, etc. When my dad mentioned this to my brother, we were both astounded that she had dared act like this. I was standing nearby and I had witnessed the whole thing and he had indeed leaned forward to ask her what she had said. She is really a nutball. After that day she became my dad's customer!
Two weeks after this phone call she comes in again, and I notice that she won't approach the counter anytime someone who is un-white is nearby. She would get close, and up would walk someone who was black or Hispanic, and bam she'd walk away and circle like a plane waiting for the runway to clear so she could land. Finally she got to the counter; I saw her there yet walked past her and waited on a young Asian girl who had just walked up to pay her bill! (I know, that's so petty, but give me a break, this lady is a conductor on the Crazy Train!) Luckily, my dad was available to help her after that (or.... not so lucky) He took her loan paperwork out of the folder and started to work on it; she reached over and turned the check upside down while he was reading it. He flipped it back over so he could continue working; she reached over and flipped it right back over. Now his first mistake was putting the stuff where she could reach it; I never put the loan paperwork where someone could just reach over and grab the check (what if they didn't pay for it first? Then we'd have nothing to deposit!). My brother and I both saw the Crazy Biatch do this and neither one of us could BELIEVE what we were seeing. She leaned in and started talking to my dad and I could hear bits and pieces; she claimed that 'some black guy stole my checking account information by looking over my shoulder!" I'm not even going to go into how ridiculous she is. How would you know who and when it happened, when you write loans ALL OVER TOWN you imbecile? So after she left, my dad shook his head and we commiserated with him.
When she came in two weeks later, I had to help her this time. I tried to avoid her; by this point every time she walked in the door my brother would yell, "Your customer" and run into the back, or he'd suddenly say, "OH I have to go to the bathroom!" and disappear. This time, I was stuck with her. I took her loan papers and put them behind the monitor so she could not reach them; it was like a tribe of ants were marching in her pants watching her squirm this way and twist that way trying to see how she could grab that check. I swear to you, if she had reached a hand over into my space to grab that check I would have smacked it for her! But we processed her loan and she did a lot of mumbling at me, but she never said anything I could hear or understand. I smiled at her the whole time, made small talk chit chatting about the weather but she never would address what was really bothering her; maybe she's just passive-aggressive. She didn't call and tattle on me!
Two weeks later, my dad has to help her again. This time I saw her get out of her car and all but grabbed the next two customers so I would not have to put up with her. FIrst she reached over and grabbed all the loan papers (including check) and scooted them far away from dad, turning the check over while she did so. He reached over and took them back, again she reached over and turned the check upside down while dad was trying to type from it; this is after she spent ten minutes circling the store waiting for all the NON WHITE PEOPLE to leave the counter. She would just crap if we had any minorities working for us; I'm sure she'd claim they stole her identity too. (WHO would want to BE HER? SHE can't even stand to be her!) Dad put up with her crap again, and she left. She made some jokes and comments to him before she left, that she thought were funny. I stood there with a fake smile pasted all over my face and trying to pretend to laugh like I thought what she was saying was funny (because that's about the only way to really get any kind of positive reaction from her). But inside my mouth was hanging open that someone could be that goofy and still function in society somehow.
She came in again a few more times and I had to wait on her, and she keeps making flipping motions like she wants me to flip the check over (since I don't let her touch it). The more you don't do it, the madder she gets and the more she makes the flipping motion until it looks like she's damned near having a seizure at the counter. All the while she mouths "TURN IT TURN IT". Finally I said, it's covered, don't worry about it, I have it taken care of. But that's not good enough for her, she can't stand not being able to touch it and flip it over. If a non-white person walks up while we are doing her loan, she all but jumps over the counter to turn that check over. I just want to tell her to grow up, that white people steal information too so deal with it. At any rate the last few times she's been in she's been going off about her life and she's so mental, it's hard to say anything back to her and not have it sound as annoyed as I feel. Supposedly she's been a nurse (oh my GOD!) and she was running off about how some patient's doctor told her to do this and this but she knew better so she didn't. How predatory all these payday loan places are (yet when I mention how no one holds guns to people's heads and makes them write the checks, she gets very angry and her face turns red!) How she has this friend or that friend who doesn't have a car so she's calling the television stations trying to drum up sympathy to get them cars (I almost asked her why she didn't recommend her mechanic. HA HA.) Then she mentioned how some very annoying publicity-hound car dealership manager would probably donate a car if she called enough TV stations; this guy is a notorious P.R. hound and he only does 'charity' when it will get him good P.R., everyone in town knows it and I especially find him fake since I met him a few times while at his dealership getting my car serviced. He is as smarmy and fake as any politician. (You watch, someday you'll see a notice in my blog that he's running for office!) Anyway I just HAD to make a comment like, "____ will do anything for publicity!" And that set Crazy Biatch OFF like I'd just insulted her daddy! I just smiled at her after she made a bunch of self-defensive comments and changed the subject; she apparently has a hard time letting go of the last time in the conversation you pissed her off because she brought up the smarmy car dealer several more times (probably hoping to get a rise going?). Every time she brought his name up, I sighed sweetly, looked heavenward, made prayer-hands and said dreamily, "He's such a good man. He's a saint!" She eventually gave up. Then she started in with how she and a friend were going to get churches to give them money to get them out of their payday loans. It took nothing short of an iron fist to the lips to keep my mouth shut. One of my biggest peeves is people who go around getting money from churches that they do not deserve! You don't need money from the church to pay off your payday loan because you are poor; there are infinitely more people in more need for church money and here this psychotic twat is scamming to get a church to pay off her payday loan. (She'll just be back two months later to write another!) Finally, Crazy Biatch hit my limit of fake nice. She is anyone's customer but mine from now on. Just....can't....fake....it....any....more!
The drunk guy who always has a story about why he needs a loan came in; about 75% of the time he will make a comment like, "I wish you weren't married" or some such catchy line. Every time he hits on me I tell myself that someday I'll tell him, "I'm allergic to the stench of old beer" but never do. At any rate he tried, again, to convince me that we had loaned a huge amount on his crappy old tools in the past, yet I found an amount about half of what he claimed. Then he said, "These are great tools, you SHOULD lend me $50!" I asked him why would I lend you $50 today on tools we lent you $20 on six years ago, they don't appreciate in value. He did accept his usual amount. He needed to go get beer, after all. We wouldn't want to sober up so we could get a job! What is so sad is that he has the skills to make a lot of money, but whenever he gets a job (about every two years) he gets fired within a few months because he can't stop having accidents at work due to his alcoholism. It's sad to think that he works in manufacturing plants with machinery that could harm OTHERS due to his negligence, but he could care less about anything besides the booze. What a waste.
And finally we have a bonafide paranoid schizo coming in, who is NOT regular with his medications. At first I just thought he was rude; he has yelled at other employees and he yelled at me once (I just kept on walking like I didn't hear him screaming in anger). Then he started going off at one of our employees about soldiers and wars and Jesus and...my GOD...too many things to even remember. It was all violent and scary and totally crazy. His daughter came in that day and led him away. What is so scary, is that he buys knives. Before I knew he was schizo, I always had this weird feeling from him that always made me step away out of reach after I'd handed him a knife; now I sound paranoid huh! But he just gives off this vibe, and he LOOKS like he is just >thisclose< to killing you with his bare hands every time he looks at you or talks to you. The more you talk to him, it's like he gets crazier by the word. Some days are much better than others; in fact the other day he came in and was so civil and polite and 'normal' you'd never know anything was wrong with him. I personally don't feel comfortable selling him weapons considering how unsafe I feel in his presence but there is nothing that says he CAN'T have weaponry. A gun, I could refuse to sell him (and we all would!). UPDATE: He's been getting his meds regularly and has come to trust us, so he's not bad any more. Thank goodness!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Idiot Retail Day
We shopped for groceries yesterday at a store located in the very UPPY side of town. Even a lot of the employee parking lot is loaded with Lexus, BMW, etc. As we were checking out, I'd put a divider behind my items so that the person behind me could put his things on the belt after mine moved up. (Notice I say AFTER mine moved up....they hadn't yet.) I guess the old guy behind me was too important to wait until the cashier could make some headway into my considerable order; he used the bar and started pushing my items forward, smashing bread and other items together. I know from experience that saying anything to crotchety jerkwads of this vintage doesn't do any good, so I placed my hand just in front of the bar so he couldn't push it any more; I leaned over like I was just resting my weight over on my hand and waiting for the cashier. They usually don't know what to do if you pretend like you have no idea they are being annoying. In this case it was also true! I had a couple of bags of cat food on the belt, that had become bread-smashing devices thanks to this jerk. He asked me in a very grouchy and pissed off voice, "Treats for the cats?!?" I pretended that I hadn't even noticed he was back there and asked, 'I'm sorry, what?" He repeated his question in the same drippingly annoyed voice; I cheerfully said, "Oh no, we top our salads with that. We love the crunch." He stood there staring at me with a look on his face that indicated maybe he had soiled pants. It was priceless! He didn't get any happier when I whipped out vast stashes of coupons and paid with one-dollar bills, but at least he stopped trying to make pancakes out of our bread.
Later we stopped by PetCo. As we approached the checkout, the girl at the counter decided she had to do something else and told a kid to check us out. He looked like a 6 ft. tall ten year old! And didn't act much better. He was clearly annoyed that he had to work; and let us know it in the way he slammed our items about and punched the keys to log into the register. Then he said to us, "HOLA!" I peeked over at hubby, who was similarly irritated at this kid's lack of professional conduct. Apparently Kid Boy expected an answer to his 'greeting', as he stopped what he was doing and leaned forward a bit and said more slowly, and loudly, "HO-LA!" What, do you think we are hard of hearing?! I said, "What?" just because I couldn't believe he was so simpleminded. He said, "I said HOLA!" I asked him, "Do I look Mexican to you?" Really, what else can you say, when you WANT to tell him what an idiot he is?!?! He jerked his head back like he'd been slapped! (Oh to dream!) I told hubby, "You know, I'm so white that no one has ever mistaken me for any other nationality, but I guess it can happen." KidBoy shoved our sack across the counter, stuffed the receipt in the bag, and didn't even say THANK YOU (or is that gracias??) for our business. Unfortunately we did not get a survey on our receipt, that would have been one INTERESTING survey for the honchos at PetCo to get.
Later we stopped by PetCo. As we approached the checkout, the girl at the counter decided she had to do something else and told a kid to check us out. He looked like a 6 ft. tall ten year old! And didn't act much better. He was clearly annoyed that he had to work; and let us know it in the way he slammed our items about and punched the keys to log into the register. Then he said to us, "HOLA!" I peeked over at hubby, who was similarly irritated at this kid's lack of professional conduct. Apparently Kid Boy expected an answer to his 'greeting', as he stopped what he was doing and leaned forward a bit and said more slowly, and loudly, "HO-LA!" What, do you think we are hard of hearing?! I said, "What?" just because I couldn't believe he was so simpleminded. He said, "I said HOLA!" I asked him, "Do I look Mexican to you?" Really, what else can you say, when you WANT to tell him what an idiot he is?!?! He jerked his head back like he'd been slapped! (Oh to dream!) I told hubby, "You know, I'm so white that no one has ever mistaken me for any other nationality, but I guess it can happen." KidBoy shoved our sack across the counter, stuffed the receipt in the bag, and didn't even say THANK YOU (or is that gracias??) for our business. Unfortunately we did not get a survey on our receipt, that would have been one INTERESTING survey for the honchos at PetCo to get.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
'But I Paid $350 for it in Mexico!"
Gal comes in with a pile of jewelry she wants a loan on. I can tell right away that a few pieces are definitely plated (fake). There are some questionable pieces, and several that look fine. She is a sometime customer; she speaks just a little English but enough to get by. She's stuck us with jewelry before so I just test everything to be sure.
I whip out the gold tester and the bangles I thought were fake, are real. (We've had a lot of fake bangles come in; people from Mexico are selling them to dummies in parking lots and ripping them off big time!) One of the necklaces is fake and closer examination shows some wear spots; another necklace that I could swear was real, is also fake. A pendant that looked obviously plated is, well, plated. When I told her about her items being nothing more than costume jewelry she becomes insistent that they are indeed real. I showed her what I could but you can't teach someone how to tell plated jewelry in just a few seconds, it takes time to learn it. And even then sometimes you can be wrong. She just kept insisting it couldn't be! I told her that we see a lot of fake Mexican gold and you can't just go by the stamp. "But I bought these there!" she said.
I told her yes, we see it all the time, people buying them in parking lots, at the flea market, etc., they are just not solid gold. "But I paid $350 for that necklace!" I told her I was sorry but she was taken for a ride. (AND FROM YOUR OWN COUNTRYMEN! LOL)
"NO you don't understand, I no buy them here at flea market parking lot, I buy them IN Mexico, I bought IN MEXICO!"
Well what do you want me to say? "OH yeah that makes all the difference, my gold tester is just totally wrong and that pendant with the bubbling flaking plating really IS real, I'm just full of crap! So sorry! If you paid $350 for it, it MUST be real!"
Stupidity. Wear it proudly.
Ironically, when I went to make a loan ticket, there was a note in there about her having tried to bring in fake stuff previously. So, she obviously has been told before, many times. The note was put there by me! How funny.
I whip out the gold tester and the bangles I thought were fake, are real. (We've had a lot of fake bangles come in; people from Mexico are selling them to dummies in parking lots and ripping them off big time!) One of the necklaces is fake and closer examination shows some wear spots; another necklace that I could swear was real, is also fake. A pendant that looked obviously plated is, well, plated. When I told her about her items being nothing more than costume jewelry she becomes insistent that they are indeed real. I showed her what I could but you can't teach someone how to tell plated jewelry in just a few seconds, it takes time to learn it. And even then sometimes you can be wrong. She just kept insisting it couldn't be! I told her that we see a lot of fake Mexican gold and you can't just go by the stamp. "But I bought these there!" she said.
I told her yes, we see it all the time, people buying them in parking lots, at the flea market, etc., they are just not solid gold. "But I paid $350 for that necklace!" I told her I was sorry but she was taken for a ride. (AND FROM YOUR OWN COUNTRYMEN! LOL)
"NO you don't understand, I no buy them here at flea market parking lot, I buy them IN Mexico, I bought IN MEXICO!"
Well what do you want me to say? "OH yeah that makes all the difference, my gold tester is just totally wrong and that pendant with the bubbling flaking plating really IS real, I'm just full of crap! So sorry! If you paid $350 for it, it MUST be real!"
Stupidity. Wear it proudly.
Ironically, when I went to make a loan ticket, there was a note in there about her having tried to bring in fake stuff previously. So, she obviously has been told before, many times. The note was put there by me! How funny.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Social Insecurity
It took me THREE TRIES over six months to get my name updated with Social Security so I could renew my driver's license. Three tries, each one more painful and unnecessary than the last! It's going to take many edits on this post to get the full story out. Let me just say this: If I ever, EVER, become disabled and have to rely on someone at the SSA to help me out, I may as well just put a gun to my head and shoot myself on the spot.
It all started when I went to renew my driver's license; even though I'd gotten a new license in 2004 with my newly married name (compliments of showing the DMV staff my marriage license and former-name ID), the DMV now decided that my new name was not good enough and that it did not match in the SS files somehow. Nevermind that all the documentation I provided five years ago was good enough then! NO! Now, I'm worse than an illegal alien! No wait, if I was an illegal, I would not have had to jump through hoops to get my ID!
I went straight to SS office from the DMV. When I walked through the doors they grabbed my purse, it took me aback because I don't like sudden moves or anyone doing things like that without letting me know first. The guard took out my cell phone and said, "NO cell phones on! Turn it off or put it on vibrate!" Then he asked me, "Do you have any weapons in this purse or on your person?" Mr. Thorough is asking me this as he's handing me back my purse with a pocket knife in it that he apparently could not see; maybe it was hiding behind the ancient wrapped Tampax I keep in there for emergencies? I almost asked him, "Well do I?" But instead said, "Of course not!" Hey, he couldn't find it, that's his problem. It's not like I could do any harm to anyone with it anyway, it's more of a letter opener than anything. He shoved my purse and my phone back at me (the phone was IN THE PURSE you jerk!) and told me to have a seat, here is your number. He never searched my planner, it had a nice big sharp pair of scissors in it for coupon clipping! I'm such a criminal.
I sat there for half an hour. I'm telling you, if you want to steal someone's identity, just go spend the day at the Social Security office. The acoustics in there are amazing! I have a partial hearing loss in both ears, one more than the other, but you'd never know it that day. The SS employees were asking for social security numbers at full volume and people were more than happy to reply in kind! I could have had dozens of SSN's just by sitting there and writing them down, along with the names that people provided, the birthdays and addresses they were asked to verify! I wanted to stand up and ask, "Doesn't anyone here GIVE A CRAP that they can be overheard??" Then finally my number was called. It was a very young woman who was working on my case so I thought, "OH good she won't be one of those rude crabby bitches I've had to deal with before". Well, I was partly right.
"What is your social, please?" she asked. I wrote it down on my ticket and handed it to her. She hesitated to reach out for the ticket, like she thought it was going to bite her. I told her, "I'm sorry but I don't want to be overheard." She got a very smug look on her face and said, "Oh I doubt that would happen here, you are at the SS office!" (what??) I told her, "Well, I know the last guy you helped was here because his last check was stolen from his mailbox and I heard his name, birthday and address since you made him verify it out loud, but luckily for everyone here I didn't write it down and have a lousy memory!" She looked very annoyed. I also informed her that I had heard almost every SSN and personal info that had been relayed for the last half hour I was waiting, since the acoustics in that place would make any recording artist drool. She acted like I had just told her a unicorn was standing behind her. No, we wouldn't want to admit any truth!
Then she asked me to verify my birthday/street address/mother's maiden name/father's name/where I was born. I wrote it all out on my ticket; as I was writing, she sighed loudly like I was just killing her jive. Rather than snap at her and be rude back to her I simply told her I had already been a victim of identity theft once and it was not pleasant and I did not want to repeat it. (Ironically we just had another bout of it to the tune of $1400 last month but that's another story!) She took my info. We went round and round and round about my identity and she even asked if I had any ID for my previous name; I had not used it in six years, why would I? "No work badges or anything like that?" (why would you consider a work badge good enough, when my STATE ISSUED DRIVER'S LICENSE WITH MY NEW NAME is not good enough??) Ugh.
Anyway she gave me a list of things I needed to bring in order to properly prove I'm who I say I am. One thing included getting a letter from my doctor stating ALL the names they'd seen me under (two married names and a maiden name). Unfortunately it took me two months of riding my doctor's office to get this precious piece of paper.
Two months later, and again I am asked if I have any weapons (another invasive purse check and this time I hear the guy moving the ancient Tampax wrapper LOL) and told to turn off my cell phone or put it on mute. Given a number, wait 45 minutes this time. And not only do I get a repeat of hearing every detail of every other person's intimate information, but I also get the treat of a couple of people playing games on their cell phones. (didn't they hear the guy demand they turn them off?) AND, to top it off, a bunch of unruly monkey children who are jumping on/off/on/off/on/off the chairs while their parents ignore them. Two of them apparently got bored enough to play tag and one bumped into the chair next to me that had all my information on it and caused an avalanche of papers to hit the floor. Not one 'EXCUSE ME" or "I'm SORRY" from these monkey children, and then one had the nerve to run ACROSS my papers, putting a dirty footprint right on the front of a page! I told the brat to knock it off, he ran to his mommy who glared over at me. If she had taken the time that day to comb her hair or removed the cigarette from behind her ear, or wasn't so busy texting someone furiously, I might have felt bad. But, nah. (Wish I had unlimited texting but we have bills to pay!) Finally, they call my name, and this time I get to go into the back room!
A woman who looks like she was in "Beetlejuice" came out to bring me back to her desk. It was really a nice touch to see that she decorated in Modern Dorito Bags and Taco Bell Cups! You'll love this; she decided that nothing I brought was good enough, and she couldn't possibly consider my (expired) driver's license, because "Since it's expired it's invalid". I told her how funny it was that she'd consider a driver's license (expired) under one of my former names but, she didn't find it as funny as I did apparently. She also told me that the girl who told me to bring the items I did, 'was summer help' so nothing she said mattered. I asked her, if you paid her to tell me to bring all this stuff, how does her being 'summer help' cancel that out now? She again declared that nothing I brought her was right, and told me to come back with another list of things. She also mentioned the possible work ID/badge with my old name; I told her I had not worked there in almost a decade so I did not have this ID, sorry.
The week after this, I got pulled over and was cited for not having a valid driver's license (yes, I have been trying for months to get it fixed!) and I could not find my insurance card. (I found it after I got to work, it was in my purse and NOT in my car). To make matters worse, the idiot deputy ignored my snarling dog and reached right into my window to grab my ID as soon as I'd pulled it out of my wallet; my dog took a snap at him and he was not happy. My husband used to be a police officer, that's one of the things they learn, do not just reach into a car with an upset dog right there to bite you! She was in the back seat but she saw his hand come into the car and she managed to squeeze between my driver's seat/seat belt and the window. Yeah, not a happy man was this deputy. I'm cursing Beetlejuice all over because I would not have gotten a ticket, with a VALID driver's license! AND NOW I have to go to court in March. Sigh. The good news is, while looking for some other information that I now magically have to have to prove I am who I say I am, I FOUND that old ID badge! It's for a government agency, but it is old. AND it was for internal use inside the facility where I worked; it was not one that you'd be able to walk into any of their other facilities and use. They just wanted to see that badge on you when you were inside the building working, and it was ok for that. I've always joked how FAKE it looked. (Should never have even said that in my life....)
Fast forward to last week; another great visit to the Social Insecurity office. This time it's around the first of the month and this place is PACKED with pissed off people! And all the pissed off people brought their unruly kids! There were babies screaming everywhere, mothers changing squaling babies right there on the floor and on any empty chair. Nothing like the smell of dirty diapers to improve my SSA experience! Nevermind there was a public restroom with baby changing station only a few feet away (I CHECKED!). Let's just do it right there in front of everyone and shove the dirty diapers back in the diaper bag, or in the side of the car seat, so EVERYONE can share in aroma of your kids' nasty butts! Oh yes and all these babies apparently had many, many siblings. I had to check and see if the Octomom with 14 kids was there. It was like a daycare center bomb exploded in there! I really felt like I was back working at the Social Rehabilitation Services office again, only on the wrong side of the counter! There was one particularly annoying brat who was there with her grandparents; obviously gramma and grandpa were being forced to raise this kid because her mom or dad left her with them. They in turn thought everything she did was cute, and then ignored her; so she resorted to doing anything and everything she could to get attention from them, be it good or bad. They did not notice that she was jumping from chair to chair to chair; the only problem was, all these chairs were locked together so the ENTIRE row of chairs shook as she did this. After the third or fourth time of my paperwork and organizer starting to take a dive, I told her to KNOCK IT OFF. She looked like I'd yelled that I was going to eat her, and slunk back to her oblivious grandparents. THEN the little darling started doing cartwheels...everywhere...and badly. She knocked into one baby car seat and caused that little darling to start screaming bloody murder, she knocked into several people who just looked away. (Does NO ONE feel the obligation to say what her grandparents wouldn't? That young ladies don't act like this in a crowded waiting room?) Even the security guards were just shaking their heads in dismay and giving her disapproving looks. After about half an hour of this crap I was ready to start smoking whatever the hell it was that half the other people in there looked like they smoked; either that or put my bag on my head and just start breathing. There was the usual and customary round of personal information that was easy to overhear (even above the din!) and one guy sat behind me and on his CELL PHONE started reeling off his SSN, personal info, at full volume! I'm sorry, why not just rent ad space and advertise?!?!?!?! Finally, at long last, I was called to the window.
The rest is for later. I need a drink right now. LOL
It all started when I went to renew my driver's license; even though I'd gotten a new license in 2004 with my newly married name (compliments of showing the DMV staff my marriage license and former-name ID), the DMV now decided that my new name was not good enough and that it did not match in the SS files somehow. Nevermind that all the documentation I provided five years ago was good enough then! NO! Now, I'm worse than an illegal alien! No wait, if I was an illegal, I would not have had to jump through hoops to get my ID!
I went straight to SS office from the DMV. When I walked through the doors they grabbed my purse, it took me aback because I don't like sudden moves or anyone doing things like that without letting me know first. The guard took out my cell phone and said, "NO cell phones on! Turn it off or put it on vibrate!" Then he asked me, "Do you have any weapons in this purse or on your person?" Mr. Thorough is asking me this as he's handing me back my purse with a pocket knife in it that he apparently could not see; maybe it was hiding behind the ancient wrapped Tampax I keep in there for emergencies? I almost asked him, "Well do I?" But instead said, "Of course not!" Hey, he couldn't find it, that's his problem. It's not like I could do any harm to anyone with it anyway, it's more of a letter opener than anything. He shoved my purse and my phone back at me (the phone was IN THE PURSE you jerk!) and told me to have a seat, here is your number. He never searched my planner, it had a nice big sharp pair of scissors in it for coupon clipping! I'm such a criminal.
I sat there for half an hour. I'm telling you, if you want to steal someone's identity, just go spend the day at the Social Security office. The acoustics in there are amazing! I have a partial hearing loss in both ears, one more than the other, but you'd never know it that day. The SS employees were asking for social security numbers at full volume and people were more than happy to reply in kind! I could have had dozens of SSN's just by sitting there and writing them down, along with the names that people provided, the birthdays and addresses they were asked to verify! I wanted to stand up and ask, "Doesn't anyone here GIVE A CRAP that they can be overheard??" Then finally my number was called. It was a very young woman who was working on my case so I thought, "OH good she won't be one of those rude crabby bitches I've had to deal with before". Well, I was partly right.
"What is your social, please?" she asked. I wrote it down on my ticket and handed it to her. She hesitated to reach out for the ticket, like she thought it was going to bite her. I told her, "I'm sorry but I don't want to be overheard." She got a very smug look on her face and said, "Oh I doubt that would happen here, you are at the SS office!" (what??) I told her, "Well, I know the last guy you helped was here because his last check was stolen from his mailbox and I heard his name, birthday and address since you made him verify it out loud, but luckily for everyone here I didn't write it down and have a lousy memory!" She looked very annoyed. I also informed her that I had heard almost every SSN and personal info that had been relayed for the last half hour I was waiting, since the acoustics in that place would make any recording artist drool. She acted like I had just told her a unicorn was standing behind her. No, we wouldn't want to admit any truth!
Then she asked me to verify my birthday/street address/mother's maiden name/father's name/where I was born. I wrote it all out on my ticket; as I was writing, she sighed loudly like I was just killing her jive. Rather than snap at her and be rude back to her I simply told her I had already been a victim of identity theft once and it was not pleasant and I did not want to repeat it. (Ironically we just had another bout of it to the tune of $1400 last month but that's another story!) She took my info. We went round and round and round about my identity and she even asked if I had any ID for my previous name; I had not used it in six years, why would I? "No work badges or anything like that?" (why would you consider a work badge good enough, when my STATE ISSUED DRIVER'S LICENSE WITH MY NEW NAME is not good enough??) Ugh.
Anyway she gave me a list of things I needed to bring in order to properly prove I'm who I say I am. One thing included getting a letter from my doctor stating ALL the names they'd seen me under (two married names and a maiden name). Unfortunately it took me two months of riding my doctor's office to get this precious piece of paper.
Two months later, and again I am asked if I have any weapons (another invasive purse check and this time I hear the guy moving the ancient Tampax wrapper LOL) and told to turn off my cell phone or put it on mute. Given a number, wait 45 minutes this time. And not only do I get a repeat of hearing every detail of every other person's intimate information, but I also get the treat of a couple of people playing games on their cell phones. (didn't they hear the guy demand they turn them off?) AND, to top it off, a bunch of unruly monkey children who are jumping on/off/on/off/on/off the chairs while their parents ignore them. Two of them apparently got bored enough to play tag and one bumped into the chair next to me that had all my information on it and caused an avalanche of papers to hit the floor. Not one 'EXCUSE ME" or "I'm SORRY" from these monkey children, and then one had the nerve to run ACROSS my papers, putting a dirty footprint right on the front of a page! I told the brat to knock it off, he ran to his mommy who glared over at me. If she had taken the time that day to comb her hair or removed the cigarette from behind her ear, or wasn't so busy texting someone furiously, I might have felt bad. But, nah. (Wish I had unlimited texting but we have bills to pay!) Finally, they call my name, and this time I get to go into the back room!
A woman who looks like she was in "Beetlejuice" came out to bring me back to her desk. It was really a nice touch to see that she decorated in Modern Dorito Bags and Taco Bell Cups! You'll love this; she decided that nothing I brought was good enough, and she couldn't possibly consider my (expired) driver's license, because "Since it's expired it's invalid". I told her how funny it was that she'd consider a driver's license (expired) under one of my former names but, she didn't find it as funny as I did apparently. She also told me that the girl who told me to bring the items I did, 'was summer help' so nothing she said mattered. I asked her, if you paid her to tell me to bring all this stuff, how does her being 'summer help' cancel that out now? She again declared that nothing I brought her was right, and told me to come back with another list of things. She also mentioned the possible work ID/badge with my old name; I told her I had not worked there in almost a decade so I did not have this ID, sorry.
The week after this, I got pulled over and was cited for not having a valid driver's license (yes, I have been trying for months to get it fixed!) and I could not find my insurance card. (I found it after I got to work, it was in my purse and NOT in my car). To make matters worse, the idiot deputy ignored my snarling dog and reached right into my window to grab my ID as soon as I'd pulled it out of my wallet; my dog took a snap at him and he was not happy. My husband used to be a police officer, that's one of the things they learn, do not just reach into a car with an upset dog right there to bite you! She was in the back seat but she saw his hand come into the car and she managed to squeeze between my driver's seat/seat belt and the window. Yeah, not a happy man was this deputy. I'm cursing Beetlejuice all over because I would not have gotten a ticket, with a VALID driver's license! AND NOW I have to go to court in March. Sigh. The good news is, while looking for some other information that I now magically have to have to prove I am who I say I am, I FOUND that old ID badge! It's for a government agency, but it is old. AND it was for internal use inside the facility where I worked; it was not one that you'd be able to walk into any of their other facilities and use. They just wanted to see that badge on you when you were inside the building working, and it was ok for that. I've always joked how FAKE it looked. (Should never have even said that in my life....)
Fast forward to last week; another great visit to the Social Insecurity office. This time it's around the first of the month and this place is PACKED with pissed off people! And all the pissed off people brought their unruly kids! There were babies screaming everywhere, mothers changing squaling babies right there on the floor and on any empty chair. Nothing like the smell of dirty diapers to improve my SSA experience! Nevermind there was a public restroom with baby changing station only a few feet away (I CHECKED!). Let's just do it right there in front of everyone and shove the dirty diapers back in the diaper bag, or in the side of the car seat, so EVERYONE can share in aroma of your kids' nasty butts! Oh yes and all these babies apparently had many, many siblings. I had to check and see if the Octomom with 14 kids was there. It was like a daycare center bomb exploded in there! I really felt like I was back working at the Social Rehabilitation Services office again, only on the wrong side of the counter! There was one particularly annoying brat who was there with her grandparents; obviously gramma and grandpa were being forced to raise this kid because her mom or dad left her with them. They in turn thought everything she did was cute, and then ignored her; so she resorted to doing anything and everything she could to get attention from them, be it good or bad. They did not notice that she was jumping from chair to chair to chair; the only problem was, all these chairs were locked together so the ENTIRE row of chairs shook as she did this. After the third or fourth time of my paperwork and organizer starting to take a dive, I told her to KNOCK IT OFF. She looked like I'd yelled that I was going to eat her, and slunk back to her oblivious grandparents. THEN the little darling started doing cartwheels...everywhere...and badly. She knocked into one baby car seat and caused that little darling to start screaming bloody murder, she knocked into several people who just looked away. (Does NO ONE feel the obligation to say what her grandparents wouldn't? That young ladies don't act like this in a crowded waiting room?) Even the security guards were just shaking their heads in dismay and giving her disapproving looks. After about half an hour of this crap I was ready to start smoking whatever the hell it was that half the other people in there looked like they smoked; either that or put my bag on my head and just start breathing. There was the usual and customary round of personal information that was easy to overhear (even above the din!) and one guy sat behind me and on his CELL PHONE started reeling off his SSN, personal info, at full volume! I'm sorry, why not just rent ad space and advertise?!?!?!?! Finally, at long last, I was called to the window.
The rest is for later. I need a drink right now. LOL
"My Insurance Guy Told Me!"
I don't know how they do things in YOUR state, but in our state, if you want a tag for your car, the only place you get one is at the Department of Motor Vehicles.
Today some idiot called and wanted to know how much our temporary car tags were. I thought it was a joke, truly! I laughed when I replied, "Oh we don't have those here, you might try the DMV."
The caller got really insistent, "YES you do, my insurance guy told me a pawn shop has temporary tags!"
I again said no sir, you get those at the DMV. He insisted, angrily, as if I was jerking him around, that YES his insurance agent TOLD HIM that a pawn shop would get him one.
All I could suggest was to tell him maybe he should find an insurance agent who didn't smoke dope. (CLICK)
Today some idiot called and wanted to know how much our temporary car tags were. I thought it was a joke, truly! I laughed when I replied, "Oh we don't have those here, you might try the DMV."
The caller got really insistent, "YES you do, my insurance guy told me a pawn shop has temporary tags!"
I again said no sir, you get those at the DMV. He insisted, angrily, as if I was jerking him around, that YES his insurance agent TOLD HIM that a pawn shop would get him one.
All I could suggest was to tell him maybe he should find an insurance agent who didn't smoke dope. (CLICK)
More Telemarketer Fun
Some telemarketing companies call and try to get a recording of you saying "YES" so they can send you items and/or bill you. (Normally just bill you) We started keeping track of calls that are spammy telemarketers or rude salespeople or...just non-legit businesses to begin with. There is a list above the phone for handy reference!
Today the caller I.D. showed a call from an area code where we had previously had both rude hang up calls AND calls from marketers trying to get you to say "YES" on tape. (They edit out the rest of your conversation)
I answered the phone the way I normally do, "Thank you for calling (store name), how can I help you?"
Scummy Telemarketer: What, did you say (repeats name of store)?
[Wow he tries for a 'yes' right off the bat!]
Me: Indeed that is our name! (hey it's not a yes! LOL)
ST: Do you do loans?
Me: And so much more!
ST: Do you do (insert all kinds of things he asks, trying to get a YES answer)
Me: We do it all, sir, how can I help you?
ST: Well we print the bags for the Supermarket Pharmacy (says name) on West street (there is no such store, it closed) and they offer advertising opportunities on their bags. Are you interested?
Me: No thank you, our customers are only into illicit street drugs, not prescription drugs.
ST: Excuse me? What?
Me: Our customers only use street drugs, they wouldn't see our name on prescription bags, I'm sorry.
ST: What is your business again?
Me: Repeats store name.
ST: NO! What do you do there?
Me: Mostly I sit on my ass.
ST: No, no, what do you do, what kind of store is this?
Me: I don't know sir, YOU called ME.
ST: Yes! (repeats bogus offer)
Me: No I am sorry, we just aren't interested.
ST: CLICK! Slams down phone in my ear
:) Not a YES to be had, awwww poor scummy telemarketer!
Today the caller I.D. showed a call from an area code where we had previously had both rude hang up calls AND calls from marketers trying to get you to say "YES" on tape. (They edit out the rest of your conversation)
I answered the phone the way I normally do, "Thank you for calling (store name), how can I help you?"
Scummy Telemarketer: What, did you say (repeats name of store)?
[Wow he tries for a 'yes' right off the bat!]
Me: Indeed that is our name! (hey it's not a yes! LOL)
ST: Do you do loans?
Me: And so much more!
ST: Do you do (insert all kinds of things he asks, trying to get a YES answer)
Me: We do it all, sir, how can I help you?
ST: Well we print the bags for the Supermarket Pharmacy (says name) on West street (there is no such store, it closed) and they offer advertising opportunities on their bags. Are you interested?
Me: No thank you, our customers are only into illicit street drugs, not prescription drugs.
ST: Excuse me? What?
Me: Our customers only use street drugs, they wouldn't see our name on prescription bags, I'm sorry.
ST: What is your business again?
Me: Repeats store name.
ST: NO! What do you do there?
Me: Mostly I sit on my ass.
ST: No, no, what do you do, what kind of store is this?
Me: I don't know sir, YOU called ME.
ST: Yes! (repeats bogus offer)
Me: No I am sorry, we just aren't interested.
ST: CLICK! Slams down phone in my ear
:) Not a YES to be had, awwww poor scummy telemarketer!
"911 Tole Me To Call a Pawn Shop!"
Mark this one up as one of the most ridiculous calls yet.
(Phone rings, I answer it with our store name.)
Woman: (Sounding panicked, all but hyperventilating) "Yeah I don't have no joory, no T.V., no nuthin' like that, but I been having chest pains!"
Me: "It sounds like you need to call 911!"
Woman: "Oh I already been in the hospital but I need nitro pills and the hospital told me to go to a pawn shop!"
Me: "If you were already in the hospital and you are having chest pains you do need to call 911, this is serious, you could die!"
Woman: (exasperated) "Nah I done been in the hospital, 911 told me to call you!!"
Me: "Wow you sound REALLY BAD, I mean you sound like you could keel over any minute, you better call 911 right now!"
Woman: (in regular tone of voice) "Thank you" (CLICK!)
I wonder if that ever works for them, anywhere??
(Phone rings, I answer it with our store name.)
Woman: (Sounding panicked, all but hyperventilating) "Yeah I don't have no joory, no T.V., no nuthin' like that, but I been having chest pains!"
Me: "It sounds like you need to call 911!"
Woman: "Oh I already been in the hospital but I need nitro pills and the hospital told me to go to a pawn shop!"
Me: "If you were already in the hospital and you are having chest pains you do need to call 911, this is serious, you could die!"
Woman: (exasperated) "Nah I done been in the hospital, 911 told me to call you!!"
Me: "Wow you sound REALLY BAD, I mean you sound like you could keel over any minute, you better call 911 right now!"
Woman: (in regular tone of voice) "Thank you" (CLICK!)
I wonder if that ever works for them, anywhere??
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
"Hurry and Give Him Something So He'll Stop Crying!"
Really nice couple. The family who does meth together stays together, right? Let's call this couple the Kobie family. Last year they came into the store asking if we'd take their television for a loan; I told them as long as it was within four years old (or less) that we could take it. They left, went out to their truck, and I could see them messing with the television. Then they bring it in. The thing is OBVIOUSLY over ten years old (or more!). And...surprise....where there was once a sticker giving the manufacture date, there is now a perfectly clean little square of pristine black plastic. Nevermind that the rest of the television is coated in debris! They couldn't even bother to clean the rest of the t.v. up so the fact that they removed the sticker to attempt to LIE about its age wouldn't be revealed? Well no one said druggies were smart. When I declined the television, the wife asked why. I told her it was way too old. She had the brass to ask, "How can you tell?" Um, because I don't smoke meth? These nasty people actually believe people are as dumb as THEY are. I loathe dealing with the wife especially; cows chewing their cuds have more intelligence and understanding than this pus pocket on the behind of society.
This wonderful couple both sport matching drug-ravaged faces covered with sores. They have a little boy who is, well let's just say it: he's spoiled. He needs a firm hand...upon his backside! He throws tantrums every time he's in the store and his druggie parents buy him stuff just to shut him up. Today was the worst to date; his screams almost set off a migraine. This child has a certain high-pitched wail that feels like a DRILL going to work inside my eardrums.
I did the usual things that normally work; I said, "You are too cute to make that kind of noise" or "We don't allow tantrums/fits in here" things like that. His mom was getting very pissed off that I was saying these things to her SCREAMING monster. She said, "He's just tired, ok?" Um no he's not just tired, he has you trained! Several times I was trying to hear what she was saying to me about their loans and her purchase and simply couldn't hear her because of the sheer decibel level of her brat! I even asked her (trying to sound like I was joking) if she didn't want some duct tape? (She did not think it was funny, alas. I forgot that drugs often give one an organic personality disorder, and the sense of humor is often first to go!) At one point the dad said to mom, desperately, "Show him something, give him one of those movies you picked out so he'll stop!" They of course say this in front of the kid, giving him even MORE power and permission to throw a tantrum. I was trying to find the disks to put in the cases and the dad and mom were both saying, "Just give him the case so he'll stop!" Do you WANT these movies or do you want the empty cases, pipe-suckers? Little demon is wailing at full volume by now, stomping his feet, screaming, and I said, "I'm not going to sell any movies while you are acting like that." (My head was POUNDING, other customers were noticing) The mom got very snotty and said, "Oh yes you will!" Oh really? I pretended that I couldn't hear her over the screaming, set the movie cases down on top of the disk holders (back behind the counter) and walked over to get their loan tickets as if I hadn't heard her. She stood there with her sore-ridden and tooth-deficient mouth agape for awhile; I brought her tickets back and set them down on the counter between us and started processing her loan papers as if that was what our new business was. She asked, "Aren't you going to get my movies or what?" I said, "Oh I'm sorry, your son was screaming so loudly that I must have misheard you, I thought you said 'go get my tickets! I don't want the movies!', did you not say that?" She snapped her mouth shut in a tiny little line and said, "NO!" (HA!!!) I asked her, "Do you still want the movies then?" She looked like I'd just asked her if she wanted to win the Meth Lottery (DUH!!) and said, "YES!" (ha!) I said oh ok I'm sorry I just couldn't hear you through the noise, my mistake and I'm sorry. She had nothing to say with that.
Kobie Kouple give their screaming kid both movies....and as they are leaving (wifey with a huge stick up her butt) the kid throws the movies on the floor and starts to throw a fit over something ELSE he saw and wanted! I said very loudly, "I'm sure he's just tired, I'm sure all he needs is a NAP! Have a good afternoon!" They glared and finally cajoled their little assbite out of the store. I just cannot believe they have a child! Imagine how he's going to act when he's older! Maybe Santa needs to bring the little brat some soap on a rope!
This wonderful couple both sport matching drug-ravaged faces covered with sores. They have a little boy who is, well let's just say it: he's spoiled. He needs a firm hand...upon his backside! He throws tantrums every time he's in the store and his druggie parents buy him stuff just to shut him up. Today was the worst to date; his screams almost set off a migraine. This child has a certain high-pitched wail that feels like a DRILL going to work inside my eardrums.
I did the usual things that normally work; I said, "You are too cute to make that kind of noise" or "We don't allow tantrums/fits in here" things like that. His mom was getting very pissed off that I was saying these things to her SCREAMING monster. She said, "He's just tired, ok?" Um no he's not just tired, he has you trained! Several times I was trying to hear what she was saying to me about their loans and her purchase and simply couldn't hear her because of the sheer decibel level of her brat! I even asked her (trying to sound like I was joking) if she didn't want some duct tape? (She did not think it was funny, alas. I forgot that drugs often give one an organic personality disorder, and the sense of humor is often first to go!) At one point the dad said to mom, desperately, "Show him something, give him one of those movies you picked out so he'll stop!" They of course say this in front of the kid, giving him even MORE power and permission to throw a tantrum. I was trying to find the disks to put in the cases and the dad and mom were both saying, "Just give him the case so he'll stop!" Do you WANT these movies or do you want the empty cases, pipe-suckers? Little demon is wailing at full volume by now, stomping his feet, screaming, and I said, "I'm not going to sell any movies while you are acting like that." (My head was POUNDING, other customers were noticing) The mom got very snotty and said, "Oh yes you will!" Oh really? I pretended that I couldn't hear her over the screaming, set the movie cases down on top of the disk holders (back behind the counter) and walked over to get their loan tickets as if I hadn't heard her. She stood there with her sore-ridden and tooth-deficient mouth agape for awhile; I brought her tickets back and set them down on the counter between us and started processing her loan papers as if that was what our new business was. She asked, "Aren't you going to get my movies or what?" I said, "Oh I'm sorry, your son was screaming so loudly that I must have misheard you, I thought you said 'go get my tickets! I don't want the movies!', did you not say that?" She snapped her mouth shut in a tiny little line and said, "NO!" (HA!!!) I asked her, "Do you still want the movies then?" She looked like I'd just asked her if she wanted to win the Meth Lottery (DUH!!) and said, "YES!" (ha!) I said oh ok I'm sorry I just couldn't hear you through the noise, my mistake and I'm sorry. She had nothing to say with that.
Kobie Kouple give their screaming kid both movies....and as they are leaving (wifey with a huge stick up her butt) the kid throws the movies on the floor and starts to throw a fit over something ELSE he saw and wanted! I said very loudly, "I'm sure he's just tired, I'm sure all he needs is a NAP! Have a good afternoon!" They glared and finally cajoled their little assbite out of the store. I just cannot believe they have a child! Imagine how he's going to act when he's older! Maybe Santa needs to bring the little brat some soap on a rope!
"I Hate You Because I'm Trying to Scam You!"
Young woman walks in and something about her is just 'off', not sure how to even describe it.
She wants to get a loan, so I detail all the requirements (including a bank statement FROM HER BANK and no overdrafts on said statement.) She whips out a home printed statement. Since those are way too easy to doctor we just don't take them. SO I told her to go to her bank and get a 30 day printout and we'll take a look at it.
About two hours later she returns; she's holding a printout that shows only 7 days of activity. She must have thought she was cutting out about 23 days of bounced checks but she forgot that she had an overdraft charge recently; there it was. I pointed it out and told her I'm sorry but we can't have any overdrafts. She immediately went on the attack:
HER: Well that's not a returned check, they didn't return it, they paid it.
ME: Yes, that's an overdraft, your account went into the negative. I'm sorry.
HER (getting frustrated, or desperate?) : BUT it's NOT an overdraft! They paid it! You said no bounced checks! This was not a bounced check!! (I only use the term 'overdraft'. She must be daft, or wishful!)
ME: See where it says 'Overdraft'? That means there was not enough money to pay the check. That's called an overdraft. I'm sorry, there are places down...
HER (interrupting): I HATE YOU! (and she starts the pretend-crying. Puts her head into her hands and lets loose with fake boo hoos. Yawn.)
ME: Yes I know, there are four places down the road that might have different requirements than we do. (she interrupts)
HER: I've been there! They turned me down too! Please! (boo hoo boooo hooo, no tears)
I turned and walked away and grabbed a pile of stuff I'd been trying to file all day and said, "You might try the yellow pages." Instantly the 'tears' dried up (as dry as her eyes!! HA!) and she walked out the door. Maybe she's related to Billie Bitch Ass?
Whatta scammer. Boo hoo big fake tears, give me money so I can screw you!!!
She wants to get a loan, so I detail all the requirements (including a bank statement FROM HER BANK and no overdrafts on said statement.) She whips out a home printed statement. Since those are way too easy to doctor we just don't take them. SO I told her to go to her bank and get a 30 day printout and we'll take a look at it.
About two hours later she returns; she's holding a printout that shows only 7 days of activity. She must have thought she was cutting out about 23 days of bounced checks but she forgot that she had an overdraft charge recently; there it was. I pointed it out and told her I'm sorry but we can't have any overdrafts. She immediately went on the attack:
HER: Well that's not a returned check, they didn't return it, they paid it.
ME: Yes, that's an overdraft, your account went into the negative. I'm sorry.
HER (getting frustrated, or desperate?) : BUT it's NOT an overdraft! They paid it! You said no bounced checks! This was not a bounced check!! (I only use the term 'overdraft'. She must be daft, or wishful!)
ME: See where it says 'Overdraft'? That means there was not enough money to pay the check. That's called an overdraft. I'm sorry, there are places down...
HER (interrupting): I HATE YOU! (and she starts the pretend-crying. Puts her head into her hands and lets loose with fake boo hoos. Yawn.)
ME: Yes I know, there are four places down the road that might have different requirements than we do. (she interrupts)
HER: I've been there! They turned me down too! Please! (boo hoo boooo hooo, no tears)
I turned and walked away and grabbed a pile of stuff I'd been trying to file all day and said, "You might try the yellow pages." Instantly the 'tears' dried up (as dry as her eyes!! HA!) and she walked out the door. Maybe she's related to Billie Bitch Ass?
Whatta scammer. Boo hoo big fake tears, give me money so I can screw you!!!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
"Where's My Check?"
The dude who has a poor work ethic (though is fertile) and expecting a check from Obama came in yesterday.
"Oh man I need that check, did you hear Obama's going to give us checks like we got last year? I need that. I need to get my wife a ring for our anniversary and I"m looking to spend about $500 since it's our fifth year." Well dear, that's a nice sentiment, but why don't you buy her some birth control pills so she doesn't have to keep kicking out your kids year after year? You know you won't pay child support for them when you leave anyway! Save us taxpayers some bread, wouldja?
He went on and on about how handy that check is going to be, all the things they want to spend it on....not once were bills, food, rent mentioned. Anyone who disagrees with the sentiment that poverty is a mental disease for most, needs to spend a week in the company of people like this.
"Oh man I need that check, did you hear Obama's going to give us checks like we got last year? I need that. I need to get my wife a ring for our anniversary and I"m looking to spend about $500 since it's our fifth year." Well dear, that's a nice sentiment, but why don't you buy her some birth control pills so she doesn't have to keep kicking out your kids year after year? You know you won't pay child support for them when you leave anyway! Save us taxpayers some bread, wouldja?
He went on and on about how handy that check is going to be, all the things they want to spend it on....not once were bills, food, rent mentioned. Anyone who disagrees with the sentiment that poverty is a mental disease for most, needs to spend a week in the company of people like this.
Friday, January 9, 2009
"I'm being profiled, man!"
Brandon the Skinhead came in again, and first thing out of his mouth is this jewel:
"You know how they profile blacks and Mexicans right? They see 'em driving cars with rims and shit, and the cars cost more than the cops know they can afford, right? So they pull them over!"
I just made noises like 'ah' or something, probably to cover up the retch that was trying to escape at having to deal with him. Then he continued with this story about how they profiled HIM just because of his beliefs. (He never says WHAT his beliefs are, let us clear this up, so the uninformed would probably be standing there wondering if he was a persecuted Christian or some such thing, the pious way he acts and all....)
I asked, "How do they know to pull you over, all the swastikas on your car?" Didn't faze him a bit!
"Well they just profile me because of my beliefs, man, and that shit ain't right!"
I said, "Well people who claim they are being profiled can't all be right and they can't all be wrong, so how is it ok for other people to get pulled over and not you?" (Again, no fazing happening here. He ignored that and continued with the story of Brandon The Poor Persecuted Skinhead.)
He kept going on about how he's one of the good guys and the cops should just lay off because they don't know it but he's on THEIR side, etc. As soon as I gave him his money I had to go find something in the back to do, there's only so much of him I can take and still keep my job.
I really do want to know though how the cops see him driving around and just know he's a skinhead and pull him over to bust his chops. Can't get an answer out of him; it really MUST be all the swastikas.....
"You know how they profile blacks and Mexicans right? They see 'em driving cars with rims and shit, and the cars cost more than the cops know they can afford, right? So they pull them over!"
I just made noises like 'ah' or something, probably to cover up the retch that was trying to escape at having to deal with him. Then he continued with this story about how they profiled HIM just because of his beliefs. (He never says WHAT his beliefs are, let us clear this up, so the uninformed would probably be standing there wondering if he was a persecuted Christian or some such thing, the pious way he acts and all....)
I asked, "How do they know to pull you over, all the swastikas on your car?" Didn't faze him a bit!
"Well they just profile me because of my beliefs, man, and that shit ain't right!"
I said, "Well people who claim they are being profiled can't all be right and they can't all be wrong, so how is it ok for other people to get pulled over and not you?" (Again, no fazing happening here. He ignored that and continued with the story of Brandon The Poor Persecuted Skinhead.)
He kept going on about how he's one of the good guys and the cops should just lay off because they don't know it but he's on THEIR side, etc. As soon as I gave him his money I had to go find something in the back to do, there's only so much of him I can take and still keep my job.
I really do want to know though how the cops see him driving around and just know he's a skinhead and pull him over to bust his chops. Can't get an answer out of him; it really MUST be all the swastikas.....
'I have the worst luck with men!"
Gal comes in today, and tells us her boyfriend/husband (not sure which, and she probably isn't either!) died while she was in the hospital, and he had been dead three days before anyone found him. The problem is, he's the third man in her life to die while involved with her. She was saying, "I have the worst luck with men!" This drug-addled, one-tooth-having meth head can't seem to get it through her skull that, yeah when the men you shack up with are meth heads like you, they do tend to die when they...OVERDOSE! She kept on and on about how she had no idea how he died or what caused it, how 'no one knows', etc. This guy was in and out and in and out of jail, he was a drug addict and an alcoholic, and she can't even think of ONE thing that might have caused his end? Well here's a guess: while she was in the hospital, he didn't have to share his meth, so he smoked it ALL BY HIMSELF and overdosed. Ya think?
The last guy died in the middle of the street, high on methadone. She told me today, "They sold his house for $10,000, and had to completely re-do it!" I said, "Yeah that tends to happen to meth labs!" and it went right over her head. She was so high today, I'm sure she couldn't hear anything I said anyway. She usually doesn't. Then she kept on and on and on about her dead husband/boyfriend and how his family didn't like her; she would not shut up. After the fourth or fifth time of hearing how his family didn't like her, I said, "Probably because they think you killed their son!" hoping it would shock her into shutting up or leaving, since she was positively manic up at the counter. WHOOOSH she heard, "Tell me more, I find you fascinating!" and I finally had to leave the counter to get her off me. Ugh.
The last guy died in the middle of the street, high on methadone. She told me today, "They sold his house for $10,000, and had to completely re-do it!" I said, "Yeah that tends to happen to meth labs!" and it went right over her head. She was so high today, I'm sure she couldn't hear anything I said anyway. She usually doesn't. Then she kept on and on and on about her dead husband/boyfriend and how his family didn't like her; she would not shut up. After the fourth or fifth time of hearing how his family didn't like her, I said, "Probably because they think you killed their son!" hoping it would shock her into shutting up or leaving, since she was positively manic up at the counter. WHOOOSH she heard, "Tell me more, I find you fascinating!" and I finally had to leave the counter to get her off me. Ugh.
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