Just Call Me "Stinky"

Here's one from the "must have been something I ate" department.

All day long while working at the store, I was passing some really nasty, god-awful, tear-gas, chemical weapon, exhumed corpse smelling, farts.

It made giving "great guest service" almost impossible. I had to keep myself a couple of steps back so people wouldn't smell it. I tried real hard to control the emission, but sometimes it would force out while speaking with guests. Talk about embarrassing.

I've tried Beano. That stuff just makes me worse. I'm not exactly sure how to handle it. But then again, I guess it's my way of giving back to the community for all the times people have been really nasty to me. Considering that, I don't feel quite so bad after all.

Six Sigma: Another Hairy Pair

Take a long, hard look at the logo for the Six Sigma Quality Management Program. Is it just me, or is there some phallic symbolism built into it?

(HEH! HE SAID "LONG AND HARD," HEH-HEH...)

My New Program, "Seven Zagma"

A Pox On Them All

A few years back when I was manager of a dollar store belonging to a certain chain headquartered in an Atlantic coast state south of the Mason Dixon, honchos would assign me to secret-shop from time to time. One of the things they would have us do is purposely and outrageously provoke a clerk to gauge their reaction.

I thought that this was absolutely despicable.

Retail clerks have enough naturally occurring stress in their lives and on the job. They don't need some overpaid stuffed shirt executive sending people in to antagonize them even further.

I'm still in retail, and so many times I can spot these secret shoppers a mile off, it's sad. Some are real slick and get by me, others are definitely not. I can tell who they are because they follow the exact same script every time they come in. When a real, legitimate customer is unhappy, I know how to handle them and help them to be satisfied. It's the ones who literally go out of their way to specifically insult me and refuse every effort to make them happy, even when I'm offering them the farm, that I can tell are the shoppers sent in to antagonize. They use the exact same words, fling the exact same insults, complain about the exact same policies, ask the exact same questions about the exact same merchandise, in ways I can tell that the average customer wouldn't even really care about.

Let me say something to retail executives who send in antagonistic secret shoppers:

I curse you.

I curse you and your spies, I curse the filthy lucre blood money used to line your paycheck earned from the blood and suffering of third world laborers you outsourced your production to. I curse you to an eternity of hell working the complaints counter in a department store. I curse you to an eternity of injured backs, pulled muscles, high blood pressure, hand callouses, toe corns, and hardening veins in your feet. I curse you to an eternity of nasty people shouting profanities at you.

I curse you, executives.

[spit].

I'll Use Small Words So You Can Understand.

The other day I asked a customer if I could help her. She giggled and said "no thank you, I'm trying to find my husband -- I'm just lost." To make a joke I said "maybe you should try Hare Krishna..." (referring to the come-on line used by cult recruiters in the 60's.) The guest laughed and continued on. She was middle-aged and appeared to be college educated, so she got the joke.

My co-worker was standing there, looking at me quizzically. "huh?"

I had to explain to him the whole deal behind Hare Krishna and the 60's bit. He still didn't get it. Never mind.

My buddy "J" who works in Assets Protection then told me that I have to realize that even though educated people like me and him understand it, most of my humor is WAAAAY over the heads of people in the store, including management. "You and I know, but the rest of them just think you're weird."

It's sad, really, it truly is. Are people that ignorant these days?

Sit And Point

A weekend or two ago I had the pleasure of assisting the flow team work out a shipment. As usual, "Mz. Waffle-boot" logistics director was sitting in the cafe drinking her coffee and chatting with "lipstick and purse" store manager while directing the work over the walkie. (I use the term "Mz." because in her case "Mrs." or "Miss" would be a drastic misnomer.)

It really gets me how the corporate office puts up with that. Other places I've worked, executives would really kick the manager's keister if he wasn't out on the floor moving his groove thing. One thing is for certain -- the only constant in life is change -- and one of these days corporate is going to change around enough to where somebody is going to start wondering why these women are standing or sitting around so much.

Size Does Matter.

After a two-year long study, The National Science Foundation announced the following results on Corporate America's recreational preferences:

1. The sport of choice for male unemployed or incarcerated individuals is BASKETBALL.
2. The sport of choice for male maintenance level employees is BOWLING.
3. The sport of choice for male front-line workers is FOOTBALL.
4. The sport of choice for male supervisors is BASEBALL.
5. The sport of choice for male middle management is TENNIS.
6. The sport of choice for male corporate officers is GOLF.

Conclusion: The higher you are in the corporate structure,

the smaller your balls are...

Union Busters.

My buddy Fred told me he saw an interesting notice on the bulletin board the other day.

It was an anouncement demanding the presence of all the team leads at training classes held at the district office. They were going to be told how to deal with unions, and how to keep union organizers out of the stores and the company.

Ah, yes. It's union busting season again.

Here's what cracks me up. Fred's company brags all the day long about the zillion-bejillion-gozillion dollars they donate to charity. But when it comes to giving their floor associates a few measly cents an hour in extra pay, it's major heresy.

Fred's company spends millions of dollars on P.R. about how they're a socially responsible company. Then they spend God knows how much paying lawyers to help them keep unions out. The cashiers and stockers are paid less than the garbage collectors and janitors in this town, hell--even the convenience store clerks earn five more dollars an hour than they do at Fred's company.

Fred tells me the cashier line at his company is a revolving door of people leaving the company right after they start. Why? Because his company won't pay. When people can get better money by walking, they'll do it in a heartbeat. Then the managers at his company scratch their heads and wonder why their customers aren't satisfied well, and they can't keep employees.

Yep, I tell ya. It's real rocket science, folks. I don't gots me an ed-ya-muh-cay-shen with a fancy M.B.A., so I doesn't know what I'm talkst 'bout.

Odds And Ends

Cousin Ralph

Every 28 days or so my wife jokes about being visited by "Aunt Flo." When I catch a flu bug and want to toss my cookies, I talk about being visited by my "Cousin Ralph." All day yesterday Ralph was right there with me at work. Luckily I didn't toss anything, but Ralph was sure trying to bug me.

Grow Up, Dork

I worked the electronics counter again this weekend. As usual, we had a continual parade of phone calls asking if we received any more NintendoWii's. It's like your kids asking you over and over "are we there yet?" "NO! Dammit! stop asking!" I want so desperately to tell these hopeless losers to get a life, and go exercise or spend some time with their families, instead of letting their brains rot sitting in front of a damn video game. These people are so stupid. They are letting a Japanese game company jerk their chain around with an artificially created shortage of game consoles.

She Might Chip A Nail

The store manager called over the walkie to have someone retrieve a heavy item stored on an upper shelf in the back room. She said she can't operate the forklift. Another reason to apply equal opportunity. She is such a "token," it's not even funny. One of these days, some cranky, scrappy new executive at corporate is going to make store managers to do some actual work, and when that happens, this chick is out of luck.

Monkey Business Office Lingo #9

DEJA MOO -- [Day-Jah Mu] noun. The distinct feeling you've heard the same bull before.

More Inconvenient Truth

A friend of mine used to work for Family Dollar Stores. We'll call her Jeanie.

Jeanie shared with me a website containing employee opinions about F.D. from surveys.

http://www.vault.com/companies/company_main.jsp?product_id=6569&co_page=10

Read them and be forewarned. Don't walk -- RUN, when anyone from there tries to recruit you.

New Addy For The Link List

http://www.retail-sucks.com/index.php

This is a bulletin board, or forum, for retail employees who will tell it to you straight without all the corporate bullshit you see in the commercials.

Monkey Business Management Secret #15

First, I need to quote to you some *legitimate* management advice:

“Hire the best. Pay them fairly. Communicate freely. Provide challenges
and rewards. Get out of their way. They’ll knock your socks off.”
~ Mary Ann Allison

Next, let me tell you how to turn that into a Monkey Business Management Secret (tm).

"Hire the next person that comes along. Keep them in the dark. Give them impossible tasks. Punish them for failing. Micromanage their every move, and stay in their way. Then they'll give you what you pay for -- mediocrity."
~ Monkey Business Manager

Big Box Mart

Check out this funny video about my life in retail.

Big Box Mart
|Funny Jokes at JibJab

The "Coffee Cup" War.

"Lemmee 'splain....no, there is too much. Lemmee sum it up..." (~Inugo Montoya, in The Princess Bride)

OK, I'll bring you up to speed. Somebody at work keeps throwing away my coffee cups. I buy one from the dollar store, use it at work, leave it under the counter, and the next day it's gone. I've gone through four cups. After loosing the third cup, I started to keep my new cup and my creamer in a box under the counter. I wrote a dire warning on the box, stating that if anyone threw out my cup again I would personally hunt them down and throw it at them.

All hell broke loose.

People saw the note and complained high and mighty. I had to sit and listen to a scolding from the store manager and the H.R. director. My note qualified as "threat" speech, and under company guidelines I was given a write-up with a final warning (meaning, "one more mister, and you're gone.") I protested about the cups. They completely blew it off. They said that the cups had been thrown out when cleaning the counter. It's all my fault for not keeping them in my locker, taking the bar code off of them, and putting my name on them. Nobody in the store will come clean and tell me who's been doing it.

Needless to say, I am royally pissed. I would have thought it was common sense that a ceramic coffee cup sitting by the coffee maker just might be some one's property, and that common decency would lead people to respect another person's property. I see now I was wrong.

Yesterday, I discovered the fourth one disappeared. Before I left that night, I poured a puddle of coffee on the counter and left the carafe on top of it. Today I am off, so I'm going to let them stew on that for awhile. I'm going to go in early to work tomorrow and do some shouting. Whether or not I remain there after this week remains to be seen. Stay tuned.