The Retail Horror Thread 2: More Tales to Chill your Bones

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fishercat said:
It's not quite retail, since it happened at a volunteer gig, but my role there consists of being a sort of personal shopper so who cares. Anyway, one of the other volunteers started chatting with me when there was nothing to do at one point, and at first he seemed pretty normal. He made some kind of unfunny jokes, but hey, it happens to everyone. Then he suddenly told me about his Sonic OC, who is the cousin of Tails, and whose goal in life is to steal the hat belonging to a character from those tf2 gmod videos. Yeah.
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Did he mace you?
 
Not really horrifying but this annoyed me last week.

So for background, I work at a retail store that's slightly above a department store. Our clothes are a little more pricey, even though we're paid minimum wage, and most customers of ours are in their late twenties or older.

So this dude walks in with two girls and a kid. The kid is on his phone playing Sonic Dash or watching Youtube kids or whatever, which is really common in the store (parents use it to preoccupy their kids while they shop) and I'd estimate the adults to be in their mid twenties. I ask them if they need help, and get the chubbier woman (who we'll call C) a fitting room. I also learn they're going out to some local clubs. Not the sketchy ones, the nice ones. The dude (we'll call him D) is super loud. After C finds clothes with the average girl (I'll call her A) she goes into the fitting room. Our sizes are... rather small, but C can still fit into our larges, so it's all good.

I'm working on refolding and organizing clothes, since it's evening, and I can hear D so well, it's crazy. At one point I hear him shouting to C that she looks "sexy as hell" and that "damn she's sexy" and whatnot, with the kid RIGHT NEXT TO HIM. Granted, the kid, is looking at his phone, but kids aren't fucking stupid. They see what the adults in their lives do.

So I walk over and ask if I may see what C is wearing, since I can tell she is unsure. Turns out she had put on one of our shoulderless thong bodysuits and a pair of skinny jeans, and felt that they were too tight for her to look good. Now, I'm not chubby, nor am I a fashionista, so I have no idea what chubby/plus-sized people are supposed to wear, but I thought it looked cute on C, so I told her that. C seemed really happy to hear that from both A and I, but when he boyfriend chimed in (loudly) about her "sexy as hell cleavage" she seemed... embarrassed. Not that I blame her.

Alright so you know how I said our clothing was pricey? Here's how that becomes relevant. So I guess D finally looks at the tags and loses it. He starts shouting at C and A about how we're overpriced and expensive as hell, and they should just go to Spencers. I guess either C or A point out that our mall doesn't have a Spencers, and it's like 8pm, so they don't have time to go to the other malls. But for those who don't know. Spencers... the best way I can describe it is a shitty frat store. Cheap "fetish" costumes and graphic tees, some cool decor but there's also prank blow up dolls, cheap sex toys, I mean the store itself smells like despair, you know? And you sure as hell don't want to bring a kid in there. Not to mention, the clothing you find there isn't the highest quality. You're better off buying a "corset" at Hot Topic.

But D doesn't shut up about the price. I feel humiliated, have no clue how to respond, so I just kind of hide in a corner, folding stacks of pants. Not to mention, if he had listened to me or read literally any of the nearby signs, he would have noticed that everything in the store was an additional 40% off.

Anyways D argues with C, and I guess they figure out that we were having a sale, because C does get the body suit and jeans. D was a lot quieter after that, but almost seemed to be pouting.

And the kid? Completely silent the entire time, but got to see the whole thing.

So yeah, that was fucking irritating.
 
Someone started spraying pepper spray at work recently so we had to evacuate the store since people's eyes started watering and everyone was coughing.

The next day some lady got hit by a car in a crosswalk in front of the store and broke both her hips. Apparently she flew into the air.

And finally one day I was the only one in charge of jewelry, when this happens and I need to go on lunch, give the keys to a manager and wish them luck. Apparently right after I left some dude came in and wanted work done on his watch. Well, he was shit outta luck since I leave the store on my lunch and no one else knows how to do basic watch stuff. They tell the dude I'm on lunch, they don't know when I'll be back since I get an hour, and he should just come back the next day. He doesn't listen. So when I show up to clock back in (exactly one hour later), everyone I see on the way back to the time clock tells me "There's a guy waiting in jewelry. He's been there for a while." Not my problem. I get a lunch, just like everyone.

I get back to the counter, "Sorry about that. Blah blah blah computer scheduling lol!" Trying to lighten the situation. Dude says nothing, just shoves his watch at me, and when his wife walks back up, says "Look, she finally came back."

Apparently he had been complaining to every employee who walked by when I was gone about how someone should be there who knows what they're doing to help him as a customer.

Basically god damn I hate retail because all the customers are entitled cunts.
 
Hmm well nothing can top this
When I worked as customer service sales for cable I had a guy literally took his shot gun and pulled the trigger. Over a bill mind you he attempted suicide on the phone with me. I heard the moans after the bang and a splash... I was in awe and shock.

I cant remember much after wards as I tore off my headset that day and went home to drown in a big bottle of vodka to forget what happened all I know is despite what happened the my boss called me two hours later asking why I left early.... Well I told him some one literally tried to blow their brains out with me over the phone. He was like so? I was like so fucking what? Some guy almost killed themselves when I was on the phone with them over a fucking bill credit I ain't coming back in not for a few days.

I spent those two days trying to process what happened.

Fog horn

Okay here's another I have partial hearing loss from this caller.

Customer calls in I run my standard greeting customer is being an ass hole. I ask him what's wrong he says my bill. I asked him what's wrong with his bill? He responds I guess my point wasn't clear then bam his fog horn right In my ear as I was on the line with him.... I fall back out my seat my ear was in severe pain. I had to leave to go to er that fucker burst my eardrum. Management of course does nothing then bitches when I'm on medical leave.

Chronic masterbator

In my second call center job this guy will call only female agents to masterbate on the line with them.

I'm the whitest person where I work and I get called nigger. Almost on a daily basid

All male managers keeps female agents and treats it as a sort of harem. (sexual harassment is ignored)


Indian call center scammers are rampent

Where I work at now is a phone insurance customer service job. I file claims on you're pricey smart phones. With the advent of the iPhone X almost 99 percent of my calls are scam calls. Now not that it has never been new or foreign to me. How ever bc of the iPhone X my job now consists of dealing with this crap everyday.

Basically the scenario is always some gruff sounding Indian man trying to pretend to be some woman in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Alabama wasting my precious handling time by filing some bullshit claim. Not to mention the story is always the same Not to mention it's always some sort of iPhone. Basically half way through the claim I flag it for a security review. Now I either get one of 3 responses.

1. Either they hang up.
2. They spew some shit about wanting to fuck me over and over again.
3. They argue with me about why..

Sometimes its not even that. Lol as I think they smartened up to what kind of rep I am and not even go through the claim and just sorry out with their sexual bs..
 
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vertexwindi said:
And you didn't quit right there on the spot?
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No because I needed the money.. Where I live there's not alot opportunities to get work.

At some point after you hear so many times I'm gonna be dead I'm gonna kill myself you just simply don't care anymore. You're only thoughts are meeting stats and how to get the next asshole off the phone. I drank heavily that one night because god damn I didn't believe the fucker was gonna do it. I was hung over sick as a dog the next day.. I can still hear the click bang and splash to this very day.

Never do call center work if you have an ounce of caring...because you'll be burnt out crumpled up and someone else will take your seat.
 
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The Un-Clit said:
I have a story from many long years ago. I am honestly surprised that no Kiwi who ever worked retail has told a similar tale yet, so I guess I will be the first to tell of the night my job nearly got me shot and killed.

In my mid-late teens, the calls of the 8 and 16 bit computers ment that I needed to get a job if I wanted to fill my off-time with vidya and BBS trolling, so I got a job at one of a small chain of 24-hour convenience stores that no longer exist. Think of a 7/11 with an actual deli and bakery instead of pizza ovens and rolling hot-dog heaters.

Anyway, I was hired for weekend graveyard shift. All kinds of fun antics would happen out front, as there was also a pub attached to the same plaza that our store was at so between midnight and last call at 2pm I would get all kinds of drunken fuckers in. Most were harmless enough and just wanted something in their bellies after a night of pounding down brews and liquor. A few were drunk enough to cause hassle, so under the counter we kept an 8" axehandle with thick metal nuts masking-taped to the top 2" we called 'The Peacemaker'.

There were only a few times I had to pull it out, once to force an arguing couple of drunken fucks about to throw down to take it outside of the store and not bust up my workplace. (they went outside, and it was an ugly one-sided beatdown. The victor came back in to brag like I gave a damn.) The second time a drunk tried to grab and make off with the entire lottery scratch and win ticket case. For whatever reason (i guess to make it easier to replace) this was not bolted or even glued to the countertop, so while I was making a sammitch for this guy, he nonchalantly tucked it under his arm and slowly drifted towards the front door. I dropped the sammy, picked up The Peacemaker and had a brief tug of war with this asshole. After having the club waved in his face he let go of the case, and kept on slowly sauntering out the door. He never did pick up his sandwich, which he had paid for.

Now the instance I am going to talk about, there was never any thought of pulling The Peacemaker, as it likely would have resulted in me not being here to tell the tale.

Since I was working Graveyard alone (pretty sure no 24/7 store any longer lets single people run the Graveyard shift, but this was the 80's) friends would come and hang out sometimes, grab some snacks, play some vidya (every corner store back then had at least 2 arcade machines in, we had 4) and bullshit with me. We also had a number of regular late night customers, along with the odd cop or security guard cadging free coffee. So one night, some friends are hanging, and a drunken regular came in for smokes, and started to tell a sad tale of why he was broke and needed money bad, could I loan him $100, he was good for it, etc etc, yes he actually asked a 16 year old kid at the counter of a corner store for money. He surely had money for smokes and beer anyway.

So a couple of hours pass, friends leave, store is empty as it usually is between 3 and 6am. Drunken buddy comes back in lugging what looked like an oversize gym bag. I think he's going to try and sell me something. Newp, he opens the bag and pulls out a fucking assault rifle. I don't know what kind I am no gun nut, except it was not an AK-47 or M-16, the only kind I could recognize. I couldn't fucking believe it. There was a short fat clip in the bottom of it so I assumed it was loaded when he pointed it at me. I couldn't think of a fucking thing else except seeing that black tunnel pointed at me, and realizing I could actually die, right here and now in this fucking corner store, there was only a drunken fucknut between me and eternity.

I ain't gonna lie, I begged for my life. He demanded all the money in the cash register. As I quickly started putting the money together, he started apologizing, telling his tale all over again, then demanding that I open the dropsafe too, I explain I can't it's key-locked and only the manager has that key, he points the fucking gun at me the whole time telling me I better fucking open it if I want to see the morning come. I am teary at this point and he finally gives up on the safe and instead makes me fill up his big gun-bag with all the smokes that will fit.

At this time I look up at the door, and see one of my friends looking in, jaw dropped and white faced. The asshole is looking away and still talking (I was so scared I can't remember most of what the fuck he was saying) so I mouth 'call the cops!' at him shaking my head to the side. He disappears. Buddy turns back to me and casually says 'You realize I could blow you away right now, right?' I think if i had to pee then, I would have filled my pants. He then says for me to make him a sandwich and it better be the best fucking sandwich ever or he'll kill me. So much for the apologizing and he didn't want to do this bullshit. I make him a super-stacked sandwich while glancing at the door, praying to see cops come busting in, but there's nothing. He points his gun at me one last time, as he shoulders his bag and grabs his sandwich (in hindsight he probably couldn't have shot very well 1-handed and grabbing his sammy, but I sure as fuck wasn't about to try to jump him!) and tells me if I report this and ID him to the police, he'll kill me. Even if he's in jail, his brother will kill me. He then walks backwards out the door.

The second he is out the door he's hit high and low by two massive troopers, there was one on each side of the door, waiting for him to come out. They had moved into position so carefully and silently neither of us heard or saw it. His gun goes flying, and he's under a mountain of Mounties screaming at him and pointing big-ass revolvers at his head. I cheered, running up to the door and screaming at the fucker myself 'how do you like that, eh? how you like guns pointed at you, asshole!' (I was too relieved to be creative) while one of the other Mounties pushes me back inside.

During the very long follow-up interview with the police (who I made fresh pots of coffee and busted out tomorrow's donuts for, fuck yeah!) I found out that for over 10 mins while filling the bag with cigs and making a sandwich, there had been a police sniper at the far back window with asshole's head in his crosshairs. If he had looked at any point like he was actually going to shoot me, he would have been painting my shirt with his brains instead.

There was a very long couple of days with me giving statements, then meeting with corporate for my store, and then finally I heard he had pled guilty during his arraignment so I was not required to testify, my statements and afadavits (or whatever, I don't remember the names now) to the RCMP was good enough. He got 10 years for armed robbery.

It turned out the brother threat was not real, he didn't have a brother, but I still quit before the next weekend shift anyway. There was no goddamn way I was going back into that store, even if logic told me it wouldn't likely happen again. Sure enough, I found out that it HAD been robbed again 6 months later, successfully this time. I didn't have any nightmares or anything, but I will never EVER forget what it's like to look up the barrel of a rifle pointed at your face, and knowing that your death or life depends on the whim of the drunken asshole on the other end of it.

After that I got a job in market research, aka sitting in a smoke-filled death chamber calling complete strangers up to waste their time. There's stories from there too, but none so fucking terrifying as this.
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Damn, how long ago now have I been promising a new retail horror story? Well be thankful Kiwis, for the ol' un-clit is drunk as fuck on this glorious Saturday night/Sunday morning, and I'm feeling nostalgic. :biggrin:

This isn't nearly as horrifying as surviving armed robbery, at least not for me but for the girl in question, I am sure it was, and absolutely a lot more painful anyway.

So fast-forward some years after working at the convenience store in the story from https://kiwifarms.net/threads/the-r...o-chill-your-bones.11237/page-55#post-2528762 I first got a job working at, and then eventually buying out from the owner (who was 6 months in arrears for rent) a key-cutting and security product store in a local public market. In front of my store is an escalator going up to the 2nd floor.

Some months into this on a quiet day I happened to look out of my shop into the main market. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl 10-12 years old grab onto the OUTSIDE of the railing of the escalator, which as you all should know moves at the same speed of the escalator steps. Normally kids fucking around on this thing quickly drop off after a couple of feet of being pulled up by the railing. They then get bitched at/kicked out by market security or shop owners and sometimes banhammered. This one day, the girl in question did not let go after a couple feet, but appeared to freeze up while hanging. By this time she's a good 10 feet up and is now scared to let go even if she can, and begins to shriek and thrash around in serious fear at the 15 feet part. All this has happened over about 5 seconds.

Me and another merchant rush out and see that the the wall is now coming up against her as she is near the top and screaming in fear. The only thing below her at this point is the business card printing machine. -MY- business card printing machine, which I keep out of the shop and in the mall proper as it takes up a ton of space in a 10x10 suite. Before being scraped off like a bug on a windshield she lets go, but as she had been thrashing around so much, by the time she let go her belly was directly in line with the top right left corner of the machine. Down she comes, the force of a 80lb girl onto the point of the proverbial spike. She then rolls onto the floor landing on her head but clutching her guts. For all I knew she had pulped her liver, punctured her intenstines and/or perforated her kidney. You can imagine the shrieks of agony coming out of this kid.

By this time my neighbor is tending the kid and I am in the admin office screaming for the general manager to get down and witness this shit, as the market might get sued for the kid being a fucking retard. Anyway I get down there and the kid is surrounded by worried shoppers and merchants as she jerks and flails like a gaffed salmon while holding on to her side lurching back and fourth. and a pool of blood spreading underneath her. Luckily Emergency responded very quickly and she was rushed out by ambulance.

Sadly though no one in the market ever found out what happened to the kid, except obviously we weren't sued for it.

Never a slow day in the wonderful world of public retail service!
 
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takemetoyourgrave said:
i found a needle in the bathroom last week filled with blood so thats nice
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I found a used catheter in my store's bathroom. I haven't found any needles yet except I did see some guy staring at his feet, then kinda wobbling around I guess nodding out from heroin. I asked if he was okay and he laughed and tried to play it off like he wasn't falling asleep on his feet in public. He also kept falling asleep no matter where he wandered too. His face was scabby.
 
The Un-Clit said:
Damn, how long ago now have I been promising a new retail horror story? Well be thankful Kiwis, for the ol' un-clit is drunk as fuck on this glorious Saturday night/Sunday morning, and I'm feeling nostalgic. :biggrin:

This isn't nearly as horrifying as surviving armed robbery, at least not for me but for the girl in question, I am sure it was, and absolutely a lot more painful anyway.

So fast-forward some years after working at the convenience store in the story from https://kiwifarms.net/threads/the-r...o-chill-your-bones.11237/page-55#post-2528762 I first got a job working at, and then eventually buying out from the owner (who was 6 months in arrears for rent) a key-cutting and security product store in a local public market. In front of my store is an escalator going up to the 2nd floor.

Some months into this on a quiet day I happened to look out of my shop into the main market. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl 10-12 years old grab onto the OUTSIDE of the railing of the escalator, which as you all should know moves at the same speed of the escalator steps. Normally kids fucking around on this thing quickly drop off after a couple of feet of being pulled up by the railing. They then get bitched at/kicked out by market security or shop owners and sometimes banhammered. This one day, the girl in question did not let go after a couple feet, but appeared to freeze up while hanging. By this time she's a good 10 feet up and is now scared to let go even if she can, and begins to shriek and thrash around in serious fear at the 15 feet part. All this has happened over about 5 seconds.

Me and another merchant rush out and see that the the wall is now coming up against her as she is near the top and screaming in fear. The only thing below her at this point is the business card printing machine. -MY- business card printing machine, which I keep out of the shop and in the mall proper as it takes up a ton of space in a 10x10 suite. Before being scraped off like a bug on a windshield she lets go, but as she had been thrashing around so much, by the time she let go her belly was directly in line with the top right left corner of the machine. Down she comes, the force of a 80lb girl onto the point of the proverbial spike. She then rolls onto the floor landing on her head but clutching her guts. For all I knew she had pulped her liver, punctured her intenstines and/or perforated her kidney. You can imagine the shrieks of agony coming out of this kid.

By this time my neighbor is tending the kid and I am in the admin office screaming for the general manager to get down and witness this shit, as the market might get sued for the kid being a fucking exceptional individual. Anyway I get down there and the kid is surrounded by worried shoppers and merchants as she jerks and flails like a gaffed salmon while holding on to her side lurching back and fourth. and a pool of blood spreading underneath her. Luckily Emergency responded very quickly and she was rushed out by ambulance.

Sadly though no one in the market ever found out what happened to the kid, except obviously we weren't sued for it.

Never a slow day in the wonderful world of public retail service!
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Since I am on a roll here (and drunk again) Let us move on to my 3rd (and as far as I can remember for now last) personal retail horror story, shall we?

Fast forward once more a couple years after the incident above, I lost the store (due to my naivety at the young age I was, never accept a promise not written on paper, fam!) and with my girlfriend now having a baby on the way, I had to start making some money again FAST. So I accepted a commission sales job in a formerly major Canadian retail electronics chain that no longer exists as a computer/fax/cellular salesman. After 6 months or so, I was doing good enough at this that I was promoted to the computer/fax/cellular department manager of a newly opening expansion store.

So come about a year later, my baby daughter is about 6mo old. I am working one day and on my way back from the back-office, I take a wander through the music section. As usual, it's full of kids fucking around. I notice out of the corner of my eye a woman with a large oddly-shaped baby buggy but don't really pay it any mind. As I pass it by though, I hear a kid who had been walking behind me gasp and say 'whoa, what HAPPENED?' to the woman pushing the buggy. The woman starts to answer the kid, but I can't for the life of me recall what she said because out of curiosity as to what would have made a kid stop and ask that, I glanced into the buggy too.

I really REALLY wish I hadn't.

Jesus fucking christ. I have never been so horrified and rocked to the core of my being at what I saw.

Inside this buggy was a....thing. What seemed to be a year old baby of normal body dimensions, but on top of the neck was not a baby's head. I don't know what to call it but best I can do is describe it. In terms of size it was like a flesh-coloured 10-pin bowling ball, completely round and symmetrical and at least 4 times the size of a real baby's head. No ears. No eyes. No nose. No mouth. No facial features you could recognize as even vaguely human. In the middle of this thing's head were 3 black holes. I mean PITS. Three completely differently sized and shaped holes in 3 non linked places in it's head. I think I saw brain tissue in the bottom of one of them. It was of course also completely unmoving.

I'm afraid I don't have any more details because I instantly turned away and stiffly walked back to my department before I screamed, yelped, retched or in any other way possibly done something to fuck over over my store. But that one second flash of that buggy and it's contents was seared into my brain for ever.

When I got back to my section, my staff took one look at me and one said 'Un-Clit! What's the matter, you look like you've seen a ghost or something!' another saying 'yeah, you're white as a sheet!' I tried to explain the shock and horror of being a new father and seeing something like THAT. I was literally in some kind of shock state as everything was tinged bright white and I could hear a high pitched humming all round me for the next few mins. I don't think I accomplished anything work wise for the rest of the day.

When I got home that night the first thing I did was blow past my surprised wife without a word, go grab the baby, make sure that everything was really okay with her, and just about hug her to death.

This might make me look a bit petty or cold-blooded, but this thing was a fucking VEGETABLE. I have absolutely no understanding of why the doctors who surely saw this coming allowed this monstrosity to be born and doubtless took heroic measures to keep it 'alive' when it's fate is to be nothing but a mindless resource consumer and poop producer until it stops breathing.

And there's just no understating the shock of seeing something like that completely unprepared when you are a new parent and already extra cautious with your baby.

So ya that one puts the horror back into the Retail Horrors thread, I do believe. Okie, i'm out.

NEXT UP!
 
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Randall Fragg said:
That old bastard is a true fucking hero. Gives absolutely no shits and does what he wants. That's how I want to be when I'm an old fart.


Or how when I'm pissed off I drive really slowly when there's some jawa in a sports car bought with daddy's oilbux behind me. With the blinker on.
And then when they finally pass me I speed up and start tailgating them. Just so that they I'm doing this to be a douche.

Anyway, time for some Tales From The Liquor Store.
I work at a booze store, and for the most part it's a pretty chill job. Most of the customers, despite what you'd expect, are either chill as fuck old guys who just want to get wasted or Koreans buying Soju. However, there's a few customers that particularly stand out in the Retail Horror sense.
I'm going to start with the most recent incident, with a guy I'm referring to as Stinky Drinky.
Now, Stinky Drinky is a semi-regular. He's an old Indian guy who's comes in and gets a big jug of cheap vodka.
But then today happened.
Early in the day he fucking walks in, and the first thing I notice is the stench.
It's like a rancid mixture of onions, body odor, and curry. It has that sharp, pungent quality that just cuts into you, where you can't even attempt to ignore it. Dude smelled like he hadn't showered in a week.
Goes up, drops a few bucks on the counter, and counts them out. Walks off, grabs a bottle of vodka. Eyes are watering from the Shrek Stench.
Stinky Drinky pays for his booze and lurches off to go get wasted.
After he leaves, spray air freshener over store and money.
Notice that one of his quarters is covered with something.
A sticky, brown, goo.
Put it in the drawer and pretend it doesn't exist, all while attempting to forget the stench of Stinky Winky's body funk.
A few customers later and I'm handing out change. Grab a few quarters and feel it.
That sticky, sticky feeling. I had just grabbed the Shit Quarter.
I pass it off to the customer, wave them out, and then calmly walk to the bathroom and frantically scrub down my hands.
Good thing the rest of the day was smooth.
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You must live/work in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia.

Or do you mean 'native' when you say 'Indian'? Mind you, they can both fucking reek when they don't wash.

And readers, if you think I'm being racist, fuck you. You've never had to ride in a jam-packed Skytrain/whatever LRT or bus in the summer with your nose crammed into the armpit of some rank, stinking curry-eminating sweaty Indo wanna-be gangsta prick with bhangra and/or Bollywood tunes blasting out his NOT silenced-earbuds at max volume leaving a 'ka chunka-chunka-chunka-chunka ka-chunka-chunka-chunka-chunk' beat repeated ad-nauseum searing into your brain for a fucking hour while wishing for a fucking jet plane to fall out of the sky right on top of your stuck-in-the-tunnel-against-the-counterflow bus AGAIN for the next hour.
 
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The Un-Clit said:
You must live/work in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia.

Or do you mean 'native' when you say 'Indian'? Mind you, they can both fucking reek when they don't wash.

And readers, if you think I'm being racist, fuck you. You've never had to ride in a jam-packed bus in the summer with your nose crammed into the armpit of some rank, stinking curry-eminating sweaty Indo wanna-be gangsta prick with bhangra and/or Bollywood tunes blasting out his NOT silenced-earbuds at max volume leaving a 'ka chunka-chunka-chunka-chunka ka-chunka-chunka-chunka-chunk' beat repeated ad-nauseum searing into your brain for a fucking hour while wishing for a fucking jet plane to fall out of the sky right on top of your stuck-in-the-tunnel-against-the-counterflow bus AGAIN for the next hour.
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Fucking poo-in-the-loos man. They're terrible employees, they can't speak fucking English, and they REEK! Fucking pisses me off that the store employees at the place I work are getting transferred to other stores and replaced with poos, because they suck as employees.
 
Randall Fragg said:
Fucking poo-in-the-loos man. They're terrible employees, they can't speak fucking English, and they REEK! Fucking pisses me off that the store employees at the place I work are getting transferred to other stores and replaced with poos, because they suck as employees.
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Fuck yes! And they are even WORSE as customers. What used to nearly drive me insane when I was in retail that for every, and I MEAN EVERY fucking item (except with groceries, usually) when they bring it up to the counter to pay, you can count on them asking every time "and there is discount?" Even if it's 40% off, ALWAYS the question, and half the time when told 'no, it's already 40% off!' they wrinkle up their nose and go put it back. I would have slammed my head into the cash register if it wasn't almost as funny as it is irritating.
 
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