#tales of retail

[amarantine-amirite]

The Frustration Trap

It started when we had to buy a new oven. We did our research before we purchased the range we wanted. At least, we thought we bought the range that we wanted.

I was 17 and my parents were away on business when they delivered the unit. We did not receive an oven. The local hardware store instead delivered what I maintain is the most useless cooktop in existence instead of the range we wanted.

Most importantly, there was no oven. We can't make do with just the stovetop. Some argue otherwise, but there are some foods you need to put in the oven. For example, sous-vide chicken wings just don't taste right.

I swung by the furniture store where we bought the range. I waited forever to talk to someone because the place was crawling with personal shoppers who soaked up the cashier's time and attention. I've never seen personal shoppers in a housewares store other than for people in wheelchairs, not even in a fancy housewares store.

Finally, someone came over to help. "Hi, can I help you?" said a sales associate with a bushy hairdo, mustache, and a name tag that read "Doug."

"Yes," I said, "we bought a range here and you delivered a totally useless cooktop"

Doug tilted his head to one side. "What was wrong with it?"

I pulled out the picture I took of the cooktop on my phone. "The piece of shit that called itself a cooktop had no dials and was made of window glass painted to look like quartz glass."

Doug had difficulty believing what I just said. He tipped his head to one side. "How would you work a cooktop with no dials?" he asked.

"By using the app that goes with it, which is also total shit," I huffed. It pisses me off that the manufacturer forces you to download a crappy app to restore functionality you expect to come standard.

"Oh, this?" Doug said as he pointed to the app on my phone, "Yeah, their app is super easy to use."

"Ya think?"

Doug began his bullshit-laden spiel. "well, it's free and -"

"No, it's not." I interrupted, "The app wasn't free and the subscription fee cost almost twice as much as our rent!"

"Well," Doug stammered, "you can control the cooktop from anywhere - "

I blinked at him. "Doesn't matter. This stupid app made you give it your social security number to set up two-factor authentication and your bank account to verify payment information. I have no idea how stupid people would be to use it," i said, "Worse, none of the materials online mentioned you'd need this to install the app."

"Why is it stupid?" Doug asked.

"I'm positive that this app harvests your data and sells it on the black market."

Doug still didn't get it. "What's your point?"

"My point is you didn't deliver the product you wanted and what you did deliver is useless." I said tensely.

Doug shrugged. "How is this my problem? I'm not responsible for what we sell."

"Yes, you are" I nodded, "You are a salesman. You are responsible for assisting the customer when the product fails to meet expectations." I can't believe I had to tell him his job.

Doug raised his hands. "Hey, it's not my fault your frustration tolerance is so bad," he said defensively. He did the human equivalent of a lazy pony that trots really fast when you ask him to canter and hopes you don't notice.

I started to lose my patience. I felt myself tense up and go up on my tiptoes. "I do not have bad frustration tolerance," I said. I struggled not to yell at him. "The same things that frustrate you also frustrate me. I'm just more vocal about what's bugging me than other people."

"Yes, but let me repeat myself here," Doug said to me, "I am not responsible for the manufacturer telling the truth, nor am I responsible for managing the customer expectations. My mandate is that I only get the thing out of the store."

"No," I corrected, "that's only half your mandate."

Doug nervously turned around. "I'm going to get my manager."

"Yes," I nodded, "please do, because you're clearly too stupid to handle this on your own."

The manager arrived but did nothing to help. "Is there a problem here?" she asked with a facial expression that suggested I pulled her away from playing League of Legends on company time.

I noticed her name tag read "Anna". "Yes, I bought a range and they delivered a cooktop that leaves loads to be desired and the salesman has done nothing to help me rectify why I've received a subpar product," I said.

Anna shrugged her shoulders. "Why should I deal with your frustration?"

"Because it's a question of customer service," I huffed. I tried not to yell at her because people who work in stores have shit jobs and it isn't fair to yell at people who are trying to help even though their pay and work environment is crap.

Anna shook her head and said, "No, you just can't cope with frustrations."

I could feel myself losing control. My mouth dried up and I started shaking and pointing indiscriminately. "I do not have any more of a problem coping with frustrations than the next person," I said unbelievably quickly, "What I have trouble coping with is Doug's inability to do his job!"

Anna leaned forward and talked down to me, "No, he does his job just fine, you're just a bitch with the frustration tolerance of a four-year-old."

There was no way I could get myself back down. I couldn't even leave the store. I just froze. While I stood there unable to calm myself down, she proceeded to record me on her phone

It slowly occurred to me that she egged me on in hopes she could get a good Karen video to post online and license the rights to the highest bidder. I tried to walk away before I could further humiliate myself, but my legs just wouldn't move. I know because I fell over just turning around.

In hindsight, I don't think it would have helped. "I'm putting that on YouTube!" Anna exclaimed triumphantly.

The video went viral. It spread like wildfire across social media platforms. It captured the attention of thousands, including my parents.

They came home from their business trip early so they could deal with me. Dad brought the suitcase in from the car. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what would come.

"We need to talk," Dad began as he slammed his large suitcase on the stairs.

"Lay it on me," I sighed as I sat down on the couch.

Dad walked into the living room, sat in front of me, and pulled up the video on his phone. "I saw this video of you giving the manager of the Karl Farbman Store a hard time about the range we bought," he sighed heavily in frustrated disappointment.

I didn't hesitate to defend myself. "Because it wasn't right, and they weren't doing their job," I firmly retorted.

Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, a sign of mounting frustration. "Harriet, this is why you need to check before you accept the order," he reasoned, trying to get his point across.

"It's not my fault they brought it while you were away," I responded with a touch of exasperation, "They said they were bringing it the week before you left."

Dad looked at me incredulously. His frustration broke through. "Then whose fault is it? Charles DeGaulle's?!" he exclaimed sarcastically.

My eyes widened in disbelief. "You weren't there!" I shouted, "Those morons were the exact opposite of helpful!"

Dad waves his hands horizontally. "It doesn't matter, Harriet," he grimaced, "The problem isn't the customer service at Farbman, the problem is you wear your frustrations on your sleeve, and that attracts the wrong attention."

I crossed my arms. "Not all the time," I protested.

Dad shook his head. "Harriet, when you deal with people, they see you express what's bugging you, and unfortunately, they take advantage of you so they can get a Karen video that they hope will go viral," he explained, "They set a trap, and you walked right into it."

My eyes narrowed. "Well, then, avoid those people," I shot back.

Dad shook his head. "You're going to be avoiding everybody if you do that," he retorted. "Retail workers make next to nothing, so what would you do if you saw someone who was upset, and you knew that you'd make ten times your yearly salary from the video of their meltdown?"

"Start looking for a better job?" I asked. I wasn't wrong.

"No. You'd egg them on and hope you got something explosive enough that you could license it to a content aggregator," Dad shouted like this was something that I should know, "Anyone who works in retail will natter at customers until they explode, but for most people, it doesn't post a problem because they don't express frustration as visibly as you do."

I hesitated before I said anything. Nattering at people until they blow up so you can make money off the footage of their tantrums didn't seem normal, but maybe I had just gotten lucky. "So, you're saying it's my fault that someone tricked me into misbehaving?" I questioned. How can the actions of someone else be my fault?

"No, Harriet," Dad said sharply, "it's your fault for taking the bait."

I mentally checked out. Nothing Dad said made any sense, so I picked up the Rubik's cube and tried to solve it.

Grandpa gave me the Rubik's cube just before he died. He asked me to solve this ordinary-looking but very special cube. I received no instructions on how to solve it, only a note that read: There are two kinds of people in the world - people who can solve Rubik's cubes, and people who just move the stickers around to make it look like you solved it. The latter are cheaters.

It's been a month. I'm nowhere near solving it. The mechanism would jam if I turned in a certain way. Unfortunately, turning it that way seemed to be a requirement to solve the puzzle. I tried so many other ways to avoid turning at the way where it got jammed, but nothing worked. It'd feel like I got somewhere but then I'd make an even bigger mess and have to start over.

Dad caught me struggling to turn the Rubik's cube. "You see? You're doing it again, Harriet."

"No, I'm not!" I grunted as I turned it as hard as I could.

To everybody's shock, the Rubik's cube broke apart after I turned it. If you turned it past the point where it jammed, the cube itself would open up to reveal the mechanism inside. I looked at the mechanism and saw it contained an SD card. I picked it up and put it in the pocket of my jeans.

I haven't been able to sleep that night. At about 1 a.m. the next day, I got up and plugged the SD card into the computer. I noticed only one item: a wave file titled November-3-2002-Broadcast.

I clicked on the link, intrigued by the mysterious recording that awaited me. As the audio began to play, I realized it was a recording of an alien anthropologist calling into a podcast. The familiar voices of the podcast hosts greeted the extraterrestrial guest.

"Welcome to the show," the host chimed in. "What's up? You've reached our podcast."

The caller gave the people on the podcast the surprise of their lives. "Uh, yeah, my name is Jethré. I'm one of the many aliens studying your species, and I'm calling to lodge a complaint."

The host sat there with a confused look on his face, looking confused. "OK?" he responded casually. He thought it was a joke - people prank call podcasts all the time, especially in the fall.

Jethré quickly explained, "Your species needs to stop calling yourselves Homo sapiens. The term sapient means something specific: a sentient species. Many species of sentient aliens, ours included, do not consider humans sentient."

The host's disbelief turned into curiosity. "Why is that?" he asked. He seemed genuinely intrigued by the alien's perspective.

"Because you humans are unable to keeneetaa," Jethré responded.

While the host muttered "What the hell is keeneetaa?"; his co-host chimed in with a suggestion. "Is it the ability to evolve intelligence without destroying our environment?"

Jethré promptly dismissed the notion. "Nope, it's not that," xe replied.

The co-host's determination persisted. "How about the ability to power our big brains on a plant-only diet?"

I don't think any of those are right. It sounds like someone projecting their wishful thinking onto something they don't understand. It's more likely that keeneetaa is either a universal language understood by all members of a species, a connection to some psionic web of understanding, or some wacky dance with little kicks and thumbs.

Jethré finally told us what keeneetaa was supposed to be. "It's neither. Keeneetaa is the sound of something colliding with nothing." xe said.

It took me a while to figure out what something colliding with nothing was supposed to mean. "No Earth language has a word for the instantaneous realization that something magnificent doesn't exist."

The alien was right. No language on Earth has a word for that, not even German, and German has a word for everything. We do, however; have a story for it: the story of The Emperor's New Clothes.

I thought back to my debacle with the stove we bought from the Karl Farbman store. The salespeople went on and on about how fantastic the smart cooktop was, but I was the only one who saw it for what it was: nothing but garbage. I saw something everyone said was magnificent was really nothing.

Does this mean I am the only sentient human because I can keeneetaa? Only time will tell.

@sstrangeprompts

[mytheoristavenue]

A customer at my store tried to steal the food I got delivered for my lunch from door dash just now.

[arthur-lesters-coccyx]

INTRO POST

hello, i'm arthur's tail bone/coccyx!

my pronouns are it/its (ooc I go by he/it)

i like my fellow bones, soft pillows or chairs and not falling over (the last one is a bit of a problem, considering how much arthur falls over)

(ooc: this is a sideblog, my main is @watchful-crown)

JOIN US ON THE BODY PARTS DISCORD SERVER

tagging system:

general: #limb posting, #limb (and others) posting, #arthur lesters body parts

reposting: #retail bone

rambles/interacting with posts: #tail bone tales

shitposts: #how many tails could a tail bone bone if a tail bone could bone tails

bone posting/bone interactions: #arthurs bone gang

out of character moments: #c-ooc-ccyx

cheat your own adventure campaign posts: #the limbs play cyoa

malevolent tags:

#malevolent, #malevolent fanart, #malevolent memes

I'll update the tagging system if more things come up :]

[senditothemoonn]

Hello, I am here to present some fanart inspired by @oumaheroes’ wonderful fic The Cleaner !

The whole miniseries is just so intriguing and profound and I thoroughly enjoyed reading them and I hope u guys do too ✨ I sound calm while writing this description but honestly guys I’m frothing at the mouth GO READ THESE FICS IMMEDIATELY

[ceasarslegion]

Would love to tell this job to go fuck itself in favour of being a park ranger but unfortunately every national park that has given me an offer is somewhere where the cost of living is so egregious that the salary doesn't even begin to cover it. Maybe I should try for park warden instead

[biodegradablebisexual]

Translating what your coworker in the customer service department said to you:

They said: (Customer) is dedicated to making sure this is resolved quickly.

They meant: (Customer) will not allow me to disconnect this call until we have an answer for them, so I need you to figure this out.

They said: (Customer) advised they are expecting a call back from you.

They meant: This person let you a voicemail a week ago, why the fuck haven’t you called them back?

They said: I advised the customer that you will have to assist them with this issue moving forward.

They meant: This is so far above my pay grade and I have neither the time nor the will to cover the fact that you messed up.

They said: (Customer) asked me to pass along the following suggestion about (thing we do here).

They meant: Here’s some utterly unfeasible and high-key insane “suggestions” from someone who does not understand the logistics of what we do here. I hope you laugh as hard as I wanted to.

They said: I do think it’s important that we bear in mind the timeline we’re working on.

They meant: You’re delusional if you think I’m going to have time to get that done before the deadline that you gave me.

They said: Just a heads up, you’re probably going to get a really weird email from (Customer) pretty soon.

They meant: I was unable to give this person everything they have ever wanted, plus my first born, and $7 billion, so they’re about to send you an email letting you know how Incompetent and Disrespectful I am 🙃

[ioletia]

Some guy tried to pull the, "I want to speak to your manager," after I tried to explain to him that I was just a vendor and did not work here/there. I understand, you can't find anyone who actually works here/there to help you, but trying to go Karen on a vendor who has made it explicitly clear that they have no power (or ability) to help you is a bit entitled.

[bunniesbearsandadventures]

Why are too many people weirder out by donating clothes?

Hi! I work in retail.

Our retail policy is 60 day returns

So why is that when people who try to return items past 60 days get on me and try to ask me for solutions like I'm the returns wizard?

So many times I've told customers "so sorry but this receipt is past our sixty day policy and unfortunately we can no longer accept this item"

And they turn around and ask me all annoyed "Well what am I supposed to do with this, I don't want it?

First of all, yeah I know you don't want it. You are in the RETURNS department. You clearly don't want it no need to state that.

Secondly IDK. Throw it away, burn it, eat it for all I care. You just can't return it

And to be fair I do honestly tell them, "Hey you can always donate the items."

But apparently thats the wrong answer as they stand shocked at even daring to suggest something like that.

Look I get it donating doesn't mean money back either but its not a death sentence to just donate stuff you already DON'T WANT ANYWAYS!

[unnonexistence]

i typed out a whole poll post asking people whether i should buy the pacific rim final breach graphic novels thru the kickstarter (which is fully funded but ends soon), because i couldn't decide, but then i checked shipping estimates and the shipping estimate for canada is ONE HUNDRED CANADIAN DOLLARS jesus christ. no. sorry but no.

[minebentobox]

When I was like 6-8 I was OBSESSED with the TV show Iron chef but like not the English version (never liked that one) it was PARTICULARLY the Japanese one with the English dub. For whatever reason my favorite chef was Masahiko Kobe who was iron chef Italian. The show said he was best Italian chef in the world and child me did not question this.

Anyway I remember my parents took me to an Italian chain restaurant in USA and I was utterly SHOCKED and appalled that our poor teenage server had no idea who Masahiko Kōbe was because like wasn’t he the BEST Italian chef in world?! How do you NOT know this?

Today I was preparing a menu at work for a catering event and the people wanted “Italian” - in this case Caesar salad and Parmesan chicken and terrimasu… but before settling on Terrimasu they wanted Zabaione (something we don’t offer and I was drawing a blank on what it was at the moment). Anyway they seemed aghast that I did not know what Zabaione was and that it was not on our menu.

Anyway my point is - I’m so sorry waiter from like 22 years ago for that creepy child asking you why you did not know some Japanese chef from a tv show. I’m not sure why my parents took me out of the house like that. I now daily am being asked to be an expert in everything food related and I’m cringing at my own behavior.

[lazywitchling]

I am an ADULT who can DEFINITELY MAKE PHONE CALLS and does NOT have to hug a squishmallow while doing it.

… no, I did. I definitely did hug the squishmallow. But I made the phone call and now I have a MEETING set up like a FANCY PERSON.

Heh. “I have a meeting on Monday morning.” Look at me sounding like a proper adult.

[shazdemon]

Someone literally just drove off with the gas pump hose still in their car???? Bruh!!!! Wtaf smdh

[theboredandkindaweirdhisotrian]

For context, English is not my mother tounge and the one that is discriminates formal and informal forms of adressing. Formal is used for polite adressing of your elders, superiors and strangers. Informal is for friends and family.

The boss at my job has this "we're not a company, we're a family" mentality (red flag I know, but right now it's either this or unemployment) and by far the oddest thing he does about it is threaten he'll cut your sallary 20% if you don't adress him informally.

The kicker? The team I work with only gets to see him 3-5 times a year because we work at different locations. Most of the part timers haven't even met him. When we do, he makes it obvious he's above us, masking it with a patronising tone as subtle as a kazoo during silence at a funeral.

My parents raised me to adress everyone I don't personally know or hold a higher position (teachers, managers, bosses) formally and as a new hire I was so frickin anxious because I couldn't quite figure out whether the sallary cutting thing was a joke or not. Either way wasn't very funny to me, and I don't consider myself a particularly sensitive person. It felt like feeling bad over having decent basic manners.

[shadowsnowdapple]

Being a person with anxiety and probably autism I have “internal scripts” for when I go around speaking to people.

I recently started working at an independent drink shop and I have ended up unwittingly creating a consistent script for interactions.

My script has put “have a good rest of your day” as the good bye message for someone leaving the shop, but there seems to be a bug in the code when there is a group leaving…

I end up saying “have a good rest of your days” and that sounds ominous and I only realize I say it after it comes out of my mouth.

I must sound like the boba shop reaper or something

[runeofnoweyr]

I was wondering when it started trending on here why the name "Nimona" was ringing so many bells

Turns out I've been stocking it at my job.

[sylphistiasymptom]

About Leviathan Mikleo

People seemed to really like that, I think that’s my most popular post THANK YOU AAAAA

so! Lore! >:)

The spreading of the glowing algae across his skin is directly related, along with the gills, to how he ended up letting Greed and Selfishness corrupt him. The very idea of a water seraph drowning must sound insane, but why would you seek to swim if you only end up being a burden again?

A burden? To the others? Is it because he’s physically lacking the strength and height of a majority of his peers? That was always a big issue in his eyes. But, like this, there’s benefits…

To say “I want him to look at ME” would be an understatement. Mikleo wants Sorey to see him, of course, but he wants to see EVERYONE take notice. The azure arrow that he may one day use as a blunt weapon by hand, and the sacred bow he brought into abyssal depths of the ocean, the only memory of when a boy calling his name was a good memory. Now it’s just, well, now it’s just rotten.

Much like the air he failed to get, much like the fear he felt while unable to move. Much like the jealousy of not being the favorite, and much like the marks along his body that burned as they spread.

To say growing a pair of horns hurt, is a fucking understatement. It was agony, bleeding through your vision and screaming only for water to fill your lungs and try to snuff out the life of one of its own children. The tail hurt too, like anything that involves your spine getting far larger than before, rightfully would.

But. In the end. For once, he was what he wanted of himself. He was strong, and powerful, he still had his wits end, and he glowed with the radiance none of the OTHERS could get. Nobody else could look that way. Nobody. So now they’d HAVE to notice him, right?

Jealousy, often times, the selfish nature and the greedy need, roots deeply in insecurity.

“I wonder if he’d even look at me, though…it’s still me….it’s still just me.”

I wonder how he’d fair with the dragon man up on Spiritcrest….likely won’t end well.