[This is turning into a convenience-store-review blog! Here's a tale I had written up and thought I'd posted, but found lurking in the drafts.]
Pony asked me to pick up a $20 scratcher for him a couple weeks ago.
Also, a Powerball ticket, after I first learned how to pick the numbers
he asked for. He's pretty asky lately. Now that he had a little win.
Maybe a story on that another time, here or there.
I went to the Backroads Casey's. There was a customer at each register.
The lady at the left one finished. I stepped over, just as the Pony-age
gal clerk tried to slither away behind the scratcher display. Believe
me, I know the type well. I used to work with an older version at the
unemployment office. You know, those people who want to be PAID for a
job, but don't want to WORK for a job.
"Hi. I'm not sure if I did this right, but I'd like a Powerball ticket with these numbers."
handed her the slip with the colored-in numbers on it, and she stuck it
in the scanner and printed out the Powerball ticket. Then handed me
back the slip.
"Do you want anything else?"
"Yes. A number 2 and a number 7 and a number 9."
"We're out of the number 9."
"Okay. Then just the 2 and 7."
gal tore off the scratchers. She set them down on the counter in front of
me, by the register, but not close enough for me to reach.Then muttered something to the boy clerk at the
other register, who had a customer. Then she walked over to the back
room, where the manager or assistant manager hangs out. (I used to work
at a Casey's, you know).
Gal waved her arms and
muttered to the doorway. I was swaying at the counter. It keeps my knees
from locking up. Gal came back. Manager with her. Boy Clerk came over
and stood on the other side. So Gal was flanked by a backup team.
"What's the problem?" Asked Manager, piercing me with the stinkeye.
WHAT IN THE NOT-HEAVEN?
"No problem. I'm just waiting to pay for my tickets."
Gal waved the Powerball ticket and muttered some more.
"Oh. You throw that one away."
"I JUST BOUGHT THAT TICKET!"
"Well, you just scan it. Like the others. Ring it up."
went Manager and Boy Clerk. What just happened? Did she really come out
there and get sassy with me like I was causing trouble? I was the
CUSTOMER, by cracky! I am always right!
Gal rang up my
two scratchers and the Powerball ticket. It came to $27. I handed her two
twenties and two ones. She looked at me like I was even dumber than she
was! So stupid I didn't know how to count up money! Giving her too much
"I don't want small bills back. I should get a ten and a five in change."
seemed gobsmacked that my calculations were verified by her cash
register. [Little did I know that I would be meeting her male counterpart (at least HE was polite) at the Sis-Town Casey's a couple
weeks in the future.] She handed me a ten and a five. Kind of jabbed her
hand out with them. No "Thank you," or "Here you go," or "Beat feet."
Not sure why she had to be so petulant. I was the one who was accused of having (or causing) a PROBLEM.
suggestion for that Manager would be: If your new employee is not fully
trained, don't put her out front alone serving customers. Also, perhaps
the place to start in the training would be CUSTOMER SERVICE.