Mrs. Wheelbarrow approaches the pick-up window. She's very engaged in a cell phone conversation:
"Yes, I done told you not to let him in the house. I done told you he'd pee on the floor."
She looks at me, slightly, "Subscription for Wheelbarrow..."
She means PRESCRIPTION, but that's ok. We get that a lot.
I get the medications for Paul Wheelbarrow, her husband. I've never met him, but based on the interaction I've had with Mrs. Wheelbarrow before, the man must be a saint.
She's still on the phone but asks me, "What's the meds for Paul?"
"I have Lisinopril and Levo-thyroxine."
She looks at me, somewhat dumbfounded. Mind you, she's picked up the same meds for Paul every month for as long as I can remember. "It's HIS BLOOD PRESSURE and THYROID medication."
"Oh." Attention turns back to the cell phone... "Well put HIM back outside. Do it RIGHT NOW."
"Do you have a Goofmart club card?" I ask as I'm ringing in the prescriptions. She ignores me and continues talking on the cell phone. "That will be $14," I say.
She looks at the monitor and hands me a twenty dollar bill.
I briefly consider asking her about the club card again, but it seems rude to interrupt the conversation.
I type in $20 in our magic machine, the drawer spits out and I put out $6 and hand it to her along with the receipt.
Mrs. Wheelbarrow suddenly looks like she's awakened from cell phone sleep and asks me, "Did YOU put in my club card number?"
Thoughts go through my mind as to possible answers in a split-second...
It's NOT my club card, it's YOUR club card. Why would I put in YOUR club card for you?
I asked you if you had a club card. YOU ignored me.
You rude cell-phone maggot-- if you'd get OFF the damn cell phone and pay attention you could put in your own club card, you idiot!
But all I can muster out is, "No, I did not put in your club card. I will get a manager back here to fix it for you."
Mrs. Wheelbarrow doesn't want that. She belts out "Forget it! I'll call the 800 number and COMPLAIN!" as she storms off. She's still holding the cell phone to her ear as she walks away.
Ugh, I work for a retail chain and I get this constantly. PUT DOWN YOUR PHONE & I will be glad to do my job and help you. If you are going to be inconsiderate and stay on your phone, you should not expect me to treat you the same as somebody who can take 1 minute out of their day to be respectful. Gets me so angry.
ReplyDeleteOh, you do have the patience of Job!! I have said to customers, "I will gladly help you when you are finished with your conversation, I'd hate to interrupt that but I do need your attention..."
ReplyDelete