Dear, Grocery Shoppers - 4. Where's the Manager? I am the Manager!

As I dive into another story, let me just say I hope you and your loved ones had a wonderful New Years & ended 2020 on a positive note. Because I sure did, and I had a wonderful birthday (thank you for the birthday wishes)! Just because we’re in a new year doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being me, which means I’m gonna have more stories for you. Alright, now that we got all that out of the way, let’s get into what you came here for.

Have you seen a customer get so in their feelings about something in a store, however small the issue was, and asked for a manager? Have you ever gotten to see that satisfying moment where the worker said, “I am the manager.”? Well this happened to me a few nights ago and, before I give you the tea, this is all because a member of my staff did something “uncalled for”. I’ll warn you, this person happens to be the oldest member of the team here (70 years old) and all she has to do is stand at the door, with a few other smaller responsibilities such as keeping the area clean, make sure all employees that walk in sign a book and have their temperature taken, as well as wipe down carts, sometimes answering a question that a customer might have (given you’re the first person they see) and offering out a mask to people who don’t have one. Pretty easy right? I mean, who doesn’t like making easy money?

Now that you have the knowledge of a door greeter's responsibilities, we can dive straight to the deep end. I believe it was a Saturday and, as normal, we were a little busy and short staffed. My cashiers asked if there was anyone else who could help out by being on the register. There weren't many choices, so who better than your fastest cashier, right? Yes, I’m talking about myself, but not because I love talking about myself, but because you deserve all of the facts. The fact is that I am the fastest cashier, knocking out about ten people to everyone else’s two or three. That kinda gives you a ratio. Now, if I’m checking out someone that’s buying a lot of stuff as people tend to do on the weekends, the ratios changed to me knocking out eight people to everyone’s one or two. Either way, I’m fast, efficient, and precise.

I finally got to this woman, who started out as chill, but made it her mission to make a scene just as we were at the end of her transaction. Let me explain. The conversation went a little like this:

“I can get the next customer!” My register is at the farthest end of the cashwrap, right next to the entrance. The customer walks up with her two kids (a boy who couldn’t have been older than ten, and a girl who was probably five of six). “Did you find everything ok?”

She hands me her selections and I start scanning. “Yes, I did. Thank you, and my goodness! You’re pretty fast! I’m guessing you’ve been doing this a while!”

“I dabble. Are you a rewards member, by chance?”

“Yes I am, but I don’t have my card.”

“No problem, just need your e-mail or phone number.” She gives me her information so she can earn her points and get coupons. When it was time for her to pay, she asked if we took checks, and I nodded. Just a quick moment, though. Why are checks still used in a retail store? That shit’s for paying rent and sending birthday money. I did the whole thing of getting her license, handing her a pen because the customer never has one, you know the drill.

After I handed her the receipt, she leaned in. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure thing. What can I do for you?” Low key, I’m a little ticked. You wait until the end of the transaction when I can be getting the next person in line? Uh-uh! “Can you get me a manager?”

“Ma’am, I am the manager. What can I help you with?”

She tossed her smile, got all serious, and pointed at my door greeter. “That bitch over there said some stuff to me while I was trying to shop.”

Okay. She went from zero to one hundred. “Okay, ma’am. First, I need you to take a breath and calm down. No need to cuss and make a scene in front of your kids. I’m sorry you didn’t have a pleasant experience, but let’s end this on a good note. What did she say to you so we can work on that with her-”

“You’ll work on it?!” Oh, this lady even threw in a head bob with that question.

“Yes, we will. Just because you see me up here doesn’t mean you’ll see me work behind the scenes. Now, you can tell me what my employee said, or you can leave so I can help the other customers.” Remember when I said I keep things real around here? Yeah, here I am!

With a huff and a hand on the hip, the customer explained. “Well, she didn’t really say anything. She just kept looking at me funny.”

“Now you’re telling me that she looked at you funny? Ma’am, that’s part of her, and everyone’s job here. We have to watch customers. Everyone in this store is watched, including us. See all these cameras?” I point at the three black dome cameras near the entrance and the ones above the cashwrap. “Those are watching us. Corporate watches us like a hawk, making sure we ain’t stuffin’ money in our pockets. Now, is there something else? Because we have a line, and I’m sure those people want to go home.”

What happens next, I shit you not, I can’t make this up. It’s too stupid to make up. On cue, the door greeter came over and just had to try to stick her nose up in our business. Some of our bag-stuffers for a hiring event next week got on the floor, and she just felt the need to come clean them up right then and there. “Excuse me. Your daughter is stepping on some papers.”

Both me and the customer’s eyes could have turned red, but she beat me to it. “I’m sorry, but don’t worry about my daughter. They’re just fucking papers, bitch!”

I told the door greeter to go back to sanitizing carts, and I would deal with her when the line got knocked out. Getting back to the customer, “Ma’am, sorry about whatever she did to upset you, and I’ll handle that, but I can’t do that with you here.” I could have had this lady out of my store ten times over if this nonsense didn’t happen. Hell, her daughter and son were playing with the cart, and could have fallen over and injured themselves. That means an incident report, and I had half a mind to tell this lady to watch her own kids!

I offered her our customer service number and both our names so she can send off a proper complaint, but she gets all red in the face, grabs her bags, and storms off with her daughter and the son right behind with the cart. Then this little snot shoves the cart towards my door greeter, and neither of us liked that shit. I had half a mind to hop over the counter to my right and go tell off that kid, but the customer beat me to it. I just went back to the next customer and tried to get my mind right.

But, Noah! What happened when you talked to the door greeter? I got you, guys. After the line died down, I went over and pulled her to the side. She gave me her side of the story, telling me she was just watching since the customer was behind a large gondola unit. Don’t get me wrong, this greeter does her job, but she’s real awkward about engaging with shoppers. I told her that I agree with her actions, but not when they’re in a conversation with another person. I also told her to watch her body language and to be less conspicuous. Just do your job to the best of your abilities and avoid doing extra, because that can cause issues with others.

Aaron has met this door greeter, and he can tell you himself that she is a lot! She met my husband once, and felt the need to bake us a batch of brownies. Then a week later, got us a bottle of wine. She's a lot! I know she means well, but you know how that goes. Anyway, that’s all I have for today. Clocking out and heading home to tell Aaron what happened, maybe giving him a laugh before he leaves for work.