Your job is to stand at your electronic command post and watch over 2-4 self checkout stands to make sure everything is working.
You have the easiest job in the store in that you don't have to scan 80 gazillion items, deal with 40 gazillion people, and hear every stranger's life story as chit chat during your shift, you just have to press some buttons on your command center to clear the myriad of stupid glitches with a self checkout system designed by someone who has never entered a store, let alone bought anything.
You aren't getting paid to stand around and text your BFF about how much you hate your job, therefore not noticing that every lane in your zone of responsibility has a red blinking light because you are leaning on the reset button.
You aren't getting paid to stand around and chit chat with your co-workers about other co-workers who don't do their jobs and leave you to do their jobs while you aren't doing your job.
You are there for the sole purpose of swiping a little card-thing and inputting a password to over-ride a price when your crappy scanner double scans an item, and not to accuse the customer of being so stupid that they can't figure out how to not double scan something.
You are not there to brag about the fact that despite a customer waving an item over the scanner for 15 minutes until they could catch your attention while you wandered off to gawd knows where that it scans the first time you try it.
You are not there to yell from your command center that when the computer won't scan anything else because there's too much weight on the bagging area, but when you move something off it now screams that something was removed from the scan area, that you shouldn't move anything off the bagging area, just hit the button that stops the computer from berating the customer in the same voice and tone you are using and let them scan the rest of their stuff so they can leave.
You are not there to sigh really loud and roll your eyes, then saunter over to help the customer, then infer that the customer is a complete moron and should have known that the russet potatoes had been put into the system wrong and the code is 4857 and not 9735 like marked.
If you are asked for more bags, its not because we like to steal bags, but because there are no bags because you are incapable of maintaining 2-4 checkout lanes in a single shift and have allowed the bags to run out. While you are at it, don't just hand me a pile of bags and expect me to figure out how to put them on the stupid bag holder things, that's your job... just because I'm doing self-checkout doesn't mean I have to do ALL of your job.
Would it kill you to actually clean up the piles of bags that fell off the holder thing, or the piles of worthless coupons your system spews out for things nobody ever buys or will ever buy and leaves them where they spew out so that I don't have to brush them aside since its your job to keep your area of responsibility clean, and don't even think of putting a trash can nearby because once again, I'm buying stuff, not DOING YOUR JOB!
Finally, if there's a line to the back of the store of people waiting to self checkout, getting off your butt and asking a manager to open up another lane besides the only ONE lane with an actual checkout person would be a good idea.
Just the average life of a woman pretending to be an adult waiting for cookies, buying too many planners, drinking too much coffee and searching for the perfect handbag.
Showing posts with label sarcasm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sarcasm. Show all posts
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
This Old Foreclosed House - Update
Yeah, yeah, I know, its been a while since I've updated my blog. Frankly there's just so much stupidity going on that its overloaded my brain. There just isn't enough time in the day to blog about all of it, it would be a full time job... if full time job meant sitting on my ass all day and blogging while shoving cheese doodles in my face and not getting paid.
So, here is the latest installment of "This Old Foreclosed House", because there's just oodles of stuff going on there.
First, let's all recall what the craptastic foreclosed house looked like for a few years while it went through the foreclosure process:
Through years of complaining to the Health Department, we finally got them to cover the half filled with crap and water mosquito swarmed inground pool wreck:
So... there it sat for a few years, with more phone calls, more complaining to the bank that owned it...
FINALLY, some work started getting done on it, but we're pretty sure they contracted out to the local "some guy who has a pickup truck and a screwdriver" to do the work because...
Some guy with a pickup truck and a screwdriver and some friends started dismantling the back addition to the house and throwing all of the debris into the pool. When they were done throwing the back end of the house in the pool, they threw the vermin filled shed in the pool, broke up the concrete around the pool and threw it in the pool and then...
Yep, brought in fill dirt and started burying all of the junk. They also left half of the rickety deck up... for some reason. Sure, we called the health department about it, but by the time they showed up...
In ground pool? What in ground pool, I have no idea what you're talking about... please note, the fence is gone now... 3 guesses on where it went.
Allrighty then. It came as no surprise when this happened:
Which meant even more dirt on top and some straw, to make it very tasty:
There! Nobody will know what kind of crap is buried under there, and lets rip off the siding while we're at it... yeah, that looks GREAT!
How about we build an extension to the rickety deck using 2x4s for supports with no supports at the back... yeah, that would be great! We can also throw mis-matched gray siding to it, and as an added bonus, lets throw some of that gray siding over that window we boarded over... yeah, that looks GREAT!
There was a LOT of speculating and even some betting as to whether the deck was level.
Hubby claimed it was all an optical illusion because of the way the boards were, and the darker crappy rotted wood of the old section... so I went over and checked.
Yep, its level... amazingly enough, its level.
So then... they started painting the gray siding white... I have no idea.
The part that really pisses me off... their "yard" looks better than mine
But at least I know that if I dig in my yard, I'm not going to unearth half a house, a shed, some fencing, concrete, insulation, drywall, mold and probably the body of a mobster.
So, here is the latest installment of "This Old Foreclosed House", because there's just oodles of stuff going on there.
First, let's all recall what the craptastic foreclosed house looked like for a few years while it went through the foreclosure process:
Through years of complaining to the Health Department, we finally got them to cover the half filled with crap and water mosquito swarmed inground pool wreck:
So... there it sat for a few years, with more phone calls, more complaining to the bank that owned it...
FINALLY, some work started getting done on it, but we're pretty sure they contracted out to the local "some guy who has a pickup truck and a screwdriver" to do the work because...
Some guy with a pickup truck and a screwdriver and some friends started dismantling the back addition to the house and throwing all of the debris into the pool. When they were done throwing the back end of the house in the pool, they threw the vermin filled shed in the pool, broke up the concrete around the pool and threw it in the pool and then...
Yep, brought in fill dirt and started burying all of the junk. They also left half of the rickety deck up... for some reason. Sure, we called the health department about it, but by the time they showed up...
In ground pool? What in ground pool, I have no idea what you're talking about... please note, the fence is gone now... 3 guesses on where it went.
Allrighty then. It came as no surprise when this happened:
Which meant even more dirt on top and some straw, to make it very tasty:
There! Nobody will know what kind of crap is buried under there, and lets rip off the siding while we're at it... yeah, that looks GREAT!
How about we build an extension to the rickety deck using 2x4s for supports with no supports at the back... yeah, that would be great! We can also throw mis-matched gray siding to it, and as an added bonus, lets throw some of that gray siding over that window we boarded over... yeah, that looks GREAT!
There was a LOT of speculating and even some betting as to whether the deck was level.
Hubby claimed it was all an optical illusion because of the way the boards were, and the darker crappy rotted wood of the old section... so I went over and checked.
Yep, its level... amazingly enough, its level.
So then... they started painting the gray siding white... I have no idea.
The part that really pisses me off... their "yard" looks better than mine
But at least I know that if I dig in my yard, I'm not going to unearth half a house, a shed, some fencing, concrete, insulation, drywall, mold and probably the body of a mobster.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Sudafed Protocol
For the third day in a row I woke up with a cement block in my left sinus and an ice pick embedded in my left eye. No amount of over the counter drugs hoarded in the house seemed to be making things better, so I did a silly thing and actually called for a doctor's appointment. Lobsterman assured me that I would most likely get in a month from now... dead or alive.
Some masterful whining got me an appointment with some doctor at my usual clinic, not my usual doctor... but at that point I just wanted to see anyone that had a license to write a prescription, so in theory I could have just gone to any street corner in Baltimore, but Baltimore is such a hassle and you can never find parking.
Doctor appointment time came, and the guy pretty much told me I was out of luck. I wasn't running a fever, therefore no infection, therefore no drugs. He told me to suck it up, buy better over the counter drugs, and come back if I got worse. Yep, and that's why I pay $350 a month for health insurance!
After I ripped his still beating heart out of his chest and showed it to him (ok, not really, but I did in my head), I ventured to the pharmacy for something stronger than what we currently had.
This meant taking one of the little slips of paper with the picture of your drug of choice to the pharmacy, where they take your driver's license, run a back ground check on you, strip search and cavity check you, then tell you they only have the generic version of the "over the counter" drug of your choice. FINE! GIVE IT TO ME!
I bought the last bag of Cherry 3-muskateers, so this means that I can make cherry flavored meth in my bathtub had I not failed miserably at being a crack-ho (and yes, I know there's a difference between crack and meth, I didn't fail that miserably at being a crack-ho!)
Some masterful whining got me an appointment with some doctor at my usual clinic, not my usual doctor... but at that point I just wanted to see anyone that had a license to write a prescription, so in theory I could have just gone to any street corner in Baltimore, but Baltimore is such a hassle and you can never find parking.
Doctor appointment time came, and the guy pretty much told me I was out of luck. I wasn't running a fever, therefore no infection, therefore no drugs. He told me to suck it up, buy better over the counter drugs, and come back if I got worse. Yep, and that's why I pay $350 a month for health insurance!
After I ripped his still beating heart out of his chest and showed it to him (ok, not really, but I did in my head), I ventured to the pharmacy for something stronger than what we currently had.
This meant taking one of the little slips of paper with the picture of your drug of choice to the pharmacy, where they take your driver's license, run a back ground check on you, strip search and cavity check you, then tell you they only have the generic version of the "over the counter" drug of your choice. FINE! GIVE IT TO ME!
I bought the last bag of Cherry 3-muskateers, so this means that I can make cherry flavored meth in my bathtub had I not failed miserably at being a crack-ho (and yes, I know there's a difference between crack and meth, I didn't fail that miserably at being a crack-ho!)
Sunday, January 16, 2011
A Rant **
** Because "OH MY FREAKIN GAH ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME" has probably been used already.
Ok, so this rant will be about 15 different things that are actually all connected, in a bizarre kind of way.
I know someone who was at a CVS PHARMACY buying a sitz bath and a cane and the cashier actually asked for their last name to verify that the credit card they were using was actually theirs.
At 7pm Saturday night, we had a prescription for Vicodin called in... for long time readers, you'll know that it wasn't for me because I can't even get Xanax, and I'm pretty sure I qualify for that. I think I'll start a petition drive. Throughout all of my myriad of strange issues (broke my foot in two places using a Wii, random cysts that I've all named popping up on my wrists, thumb problems from a car wreck) the only thing I get is Ibuprofen.
Now its not like we live in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere or anything. We live like 10 minutes from Baltimore (pronounced Balmer) and a half hour from D.C. (Warshington, as my mom calls it) so its not like we commute by Yak and use smoke signals, so you would think it would be relatively easy to find an open pharmacy at 7pm on a Saturday. I actually think it would be easier to find an open pharmacy on that time and day because that's generally when the drunks who say "Hey, watch this" do something stupid and need a prescription... but NOOOOO. Its literally impossible to find a pharmacy open after 6pm on the weekends.
Now, let me clarify: an open PHARMACY. Sure, CVS PHARMACY is open, and so it Rite Aid PHARMACY, but not the PHARMACY part, just the store.
Why bother? To me, an emergency isn't running out of bread or hair dye. I've never run frantically to a pharmacy for some late night hair bands or lip gloss, no matter what the weather forecast. I'm pretty sure I can live without those items for a night, or at the very least GO TO ONE OF THE GAZILLION 7-11, WA-WA, QUICKSTOPS, ROYAL FARMS, GROCERY STORES, OR GAS STATIONS that are open and have this crap in them. To me, an emergency is needing some guy to count out 20 vicodine to keep from writhing in pain over night.
IF YOU CALL YOURSELF A PHARMACY THEN KEEP THE PHARMACY OPEN WHEN THE STORE IS OPEN!!!
Better yet, if your Web site says you are open until 9pm HOW ABOUT YOU PUT IN BIGGER PRINT THAT YOUR FREAKIN PHARMACY CLOSES AT 6 SO SOMEONE DOESN'T GO SHLEPPING OUT AT 7PM ONLY TO FIND THE PHARMACY CLOSED!
Then, at 10am when the pharmacy opens, but your pharmacist calls in sick... when the person who got burned the night before calls to make sure you are open and have the prescription called in the night before ready and waiting, how about you just tell them the ETA of the replacement pharmacist instead of making the already irate customer play 20 questions:
Me: So... when will the replacement show up.
Rite Aid Moron (RAM): He's been called and he's on the way
Me: Is he flying in from Pakistan?
RAM: ???
Me: When do you think he'll get there?
RAM: He's on the way
Me: so... will he be there today, or perhaps next week?
RAM: Oh today!
Me (banging head against wall): roughly about what time today?
RAM: Oh... maybe like 11
So... now I wish I hadn't failed miserable with my new year's resolution: Become a Crack Ho.
At least I could have whipped up something in the bathtub using common household products.
Ok, so this rant will be about 15 different things that are actually all connected, in a bizarre kind of way.
I know someone who was at a CVS PHARMACY buying a sitz bath and a cane and the cashier actually asked for their last name to verify that the credit card they were using was actually theirs.
- This assumes that a credit card thief is too incredibly stupid to read the credit card owner's name off the card.
- If someone stole my credit card and all they were buying was a sitz bath and a cane... just let them get it. Seriously, if they were desperate enough to steal my card and use it for that... they got some problems.
At 7pm Saturday night, we had a prescription for Vicodin called in... for long time readers, you'll know that it wasn't for me because I can't even get Xanax, and I'm pretty sure I qualify for that. I think I'll start a petition drive. Throughout all of my myriad of strange issues (broke my foot in two places using a Wii, random cysts that I've all named popping up on my wrists, thumb problems from a car wreck) the only thing I get is Ibuprofen.
Now its not like we live in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere or anything. We live like 10 minutes from Baltimore (pronounced Balmer) and a half hour from D.C. (Warshington, as my mom calls it) so its not like we commute by Yak and use smoke signals, so you would think it would be relatively easy to find an open pharmacy at 7pm on a Saturday. I actually think it would be easier to find an open pharmacy on that time and day because that's generally when the drunks who say "Hey, watch this" do something stupid and need a prescription... but NOOOOO. Its literally impossible to find a pharmacy open after 6pm on the weekends.
Now, let me clarify: an open PHARMACY. Sure, CVS PHARMACY is open, and so it Rite Aid PHARMACY, but not the PHARMACY part, just the store.
Why bother? To me, an emergency isn't running out of bread or hair dye. I've never run frantically to a pharmacy for some late night hair bands or lip gloss, no matter what the weather forecast. I'm pretty sure I can live without those items for a night, or at the very least GO TO ONE OF THE GAZILLION 7-11, WA-WA, QUICKSTOPS, ROYAL FARMS, GROCERY STORES, OR GAS STATIONS that are open and have this crap in them. To me, an emergency is needing some guy to count out 20 vicodine to keep from writhing in pain over night.
IF YOU CALL YOURSELF A PHARMACY THEN KEEP THE PHARMACY OPEN WHEN THE STORE IS OPEN!!!
Better yet, if your Web site says you are open until 9pm HOW ABOUT YOU PUT IN BIGGER PRINT THAT YOUR FREAKIN PHARMACY CLOSES AT 6 SO SOMEONE DOESN'T GO SHLEPPING OUT AT 7PM ONLY TO FIND THE PHARMACY CLOSED!
Then, at 10am when the pharmacy opens, but your pharmacist calls in sick... when the person who got burned the night before calls to make sure you are open and have the prescription called in the night before ready and waiting, how about you just tell them the ETA of the replacement pharmacist instead of making the already irate customer play 20 questions:
Me: So... when will the replacement show up.
Rite Aid Moron (RAM): He's been called and he's on the way
Me: Is he flying in from Pakistan?
RAM: ???
Me: When do you think he'll get there?
RAM: He's on the way
Me: so... will he be there today, or perhaps next week?
RAM: Oh today!
Me (banging head against wall): roughly about what time today?
RAM: Oh... maybe like 11
So... now I wish I hadn't failed miserable with my new year's resolution: Become a Crack Ho.
At least I could have whipped up something in the bathtub using common household products.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The Most Amazing Pots and Pans!!!!
Last night I woke up in the middle of the night for some reason or another (I'm sure it had nothing to do with a Siberian Husky butt in my face), and saw an infomercial for the MOST AMAZING PAN IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD HOLY GAH!!!
Even though the sound was off, I could see that the "hosts" of this "show" really, truly love these pans and felt that the entire world needed to buy them (for the low, low price they never revealed while I was watching) because of the following wonderful and amazing things:
Unfortunately, there's one thing these pans won't do for you...
spell check your commercial
Even though the sound was off, I could see that the "hosts" of this "show" really, truly love these pans and felt that the entire world needed to buy them (for the low, low price they never revealed while I was watching) because of the following wonderful and amazing things:
- Other pans gave off a toxic smoke that will kill you and the ENTIRE WORLD!!!
- The EPA says that it doesn't contain something bad that will kill you AND THE ENTIRE WORLD (it could have been CO2, I don't know, as the sound was off, and I was exhaling)
- The FDA says that using these pans will make you healthier and unhealthy people WILL KILL YOU AND THE ENTIRE WORLD
- It was a very strong pan... at least that's what I'm guessing when they beat it into the shape of a fortune cookie... I really have no idea why they did that.
- Because nothing sticks to the pan (not even burnt plastic) it was much healthier for you because 1 tiny bit of oil contains 500 GAZILLION POUNDS OF FAT and will ... yeah, yeah, kill everything
- You will absolutely lose a gazillion pounds of fat because you aren't cooking with the gazillion pounds of fat and they showed a before and after picture of some woman who I totally thought looked exactly the same, except maybe a little sadder because her food tasted like bland shit. But at least she wasn't KILLING HERSELF AND THE ENTIRE WORLD!
Unfortunately, there's one thing these pans won't do for you...
spell check your commercial
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
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