Okay, okay.

I know what you’re thinking.

You’re thinking that a blog about retail started after Black Friday is absolutely ridiculous.  After all, once the biggest shopping day of the year is over, what else is there to look forward to?

One word, my friends.

Christmas.

This past weekend, we were busier at check out than we were on the afternoon of Black Friday.  I would know.  I worked as a cashier the afternoon of Black Friday.

It was insane.  Almost every single transaction was over a hundred dollars, I issued hundreds of gift receipts, and people were…surprisingly nice, actually.  They, of course, asked if we carried the sacred Zhu Zhu Pets.

If you don’t know what those are, they are creepy, little, robotic hamsters that just run around fake cages and balls.  And while they have a retail value of approximately ten dollars, stores around the country are marking them up because we have a shortage.  Amazon? Twenty bucks. Minimum.  Ebay?  Thirty.  Seriously, if you haven’t heard of the creepy things, I encourage you not to look into them.  I know that my life was better off before I knew of them.

Right.

Anyway, most of the time I work over at the customer service desk.  I authorize returns and exchanges, call other stores, listen to rants about unscented v. scented dryer sheets, ignore the constant buzz of alarms and/or merchandise detectors, and most of all, explain that even though you might still happen to have the receipt, I cannot return merchandise that you bought in April of 2006.  That’s not our policy.  I’m sorry.  (Though, really, I’m generally not.)

You’re probably wondering why a smart, articulate girl like myself is stuck behind a customer service desk.  Well, when I graduated this past May, the economy didn’t reserve a job for me.

…also, I was an English major.

For those of you more mathematically inclined, let me break it down for you:

• B.A. in English + being awesome = 3 jobs
• B.A. in English + being awesome – crappy, crappy economy = -1,238,492,345 jobs

So with that, on top of about 30 million dollars in student loans, I have to do something to pay the bills.

It’s really not that bad, though.  I actually really like where I work.  I have amazing co-workers, the environment is (generally) relaxing, I get to sleep (not something I did much of in college), I get a discount, and there’s a really great sense of worth when you help a customer find exactly what they were looking for.

So I reiterate – I have no beef with my actual store.

I just have beef with .00001% of customers that come to my service desk.

For instance, I have had not one, not two, but three older men come to my desk and throw an absolute fit over $3.49 dryer sheets.  You see, these dryer sheets say that they are unscented but if you smell the box, you will learn that they STINK, and definitely are mismarked.  If you call the manufacturer, which they did, it is definitely not their fault – the store must have shelved these unscented dryer sheets next to the ones that STINK.  In fact, these unscented dryer sheets STINK so badly that they can’t breathe anywhere in their house.  (Call me crazy, but I think it could have something to do with  the fact that you smell of cigarettes and have an insanely raspy voice.  But hey, what do I know?)

But then we open up the box and discover that the sheets don’t STINK.  Only the box STINKS.  So the man takes an untainted – his word, not mine – untainted bag for the dryer sheets, and insists that I put this STINKY box in a bag, close it up (so it doesn’t lose the STINK), and make my store manager smell it.

TSFR: Yes, of course, sir.  I will make sure that they smell the box.

Man: Make sure they do!  Because it STINKS.  In fact, write this down.  “Your unscented dryer sheets have been infected with the STINK of scented dryer sheets.  It is absolutely necessary that you rearrange your shelves.”  Okay, that should do it.  I’m going to call back in three days and make sure that they smelled the STINKY dryer sheet box.

“Absolutely, sir.  Have a great day.”

There have been lots of instances like this, and I’m going to do my damned best to chronicle them…and if nobody reads them, then at least for my own amusement.

I mean, you have to laugh to keep from crying.

My favorite instance from today was some very pretty, presumably rich, typical soccer mom who returned about six or seven games/toys.  One of her friends came to return some Christmas presents as well.

Woman 1: Oh, hello!  Making some returns?

Woman 2: [drops bag dramatically on counter] Oh God, yes.  I feel like all I do these days is make returns!

TSFR: [closing in on the end of a very long shift, after a very long week, TSFR raises her eyebrows and gives the women a look that can loosely be interpreted as ‘Are you for real, right now?’]

Woman 1: [laughs] Oh, right!  This is kind of all you do do these days.

Cue polite laughter while left eye twitches.

So my advice for the day?  Keep your receipts.  It will make your return and/or exchange far less painful, and keep the TSFRs sane.  And you want your customer service workers sane, trust me.