The Drama Llama

There's been a lot of Drama at my store as of late, most of which I haven't blogged about because it would give away the location of my store. I really wish I could more about it, because it would be nice to talk about it, but by sheer chance that someone finds this blog, I really don't need it getting back to management. Especially not since all that MySpace drama that happened at another store. The one thing I will say, however, was that it was tragic and my store is still reeling from it.

That being said, there are a lot of raw emotions running loose among all of the employees at my store, so as a CSM team, we've been treading on thin ice with most people about most issues. There have been a lot of tears and a lot of misunderstandings among us as a team, so this makes work about ten thousand times more stressful than usual.

Now, on top of the emotional roller-coaster, I did have these gem the other day:

Right after coming back from lunch, I got waved up to the service counter , which had both a long line and a customer demanding a manager. So, I step in to help my girls with the customer, and am briefed of the problem: She just bought (as in six minutes ago) a Sony PSP with one of those Visa prepaid cards and wants the cash money back. She first attempted to get the cash using a gift receipt that she requested from her cashier, but when we receive gift receipts, we give store credit, which is store policy (company policy too, I'm pretty sure).

This was unacceptable for her, and she's swearing up a storm. She then thrusts the original receipt at me and demands cash. I look down at the payment and see she used credit, so no dice.

I attempt to explain to this ... woman why we can't give her cash, and really, its simple. She didn't pay with cash. Then she whips out her Visa and waves it in my face saying its a gift card, so she should be able to get the cash. When you turn those cards over, it says right on the other side that they're not good for cash.

I show this to her, and what do I get? A sob story. She insists she needs the cash to get gas. Um, you can use the Visa to pay at the pump, or the giftcard to at the gas station my store has. Well, whatever gas station she apparently visits doesn't do that. Damn liar. I seriously doubt one of those even exists anymore, unless its in a primitive town, and my walmart is one of those super 500m+ metros, or however they're classifying them on the Wire (Walmarts Intranet) now.

She argued with me, and attempted to go over me to an Assistant, but I wasn't having it. Our Assistant team hates to visit the desk, so I offer her the 1-800-Walmart number instead, as well as my name. She then started screaming that her sister/brother (I don't remember which) worked for Walmart as an Assistant manager at another store, that she'd be going over to the other store to return it to get her cash, and complaining about me to the company. That's nice. Have a nice day lady.

Now, my other gem is quite a bit more dramatic. I was counting the podium while talking to one of the male members of management on duty. He's a tall guy, ex Military, seriously built, and not the sort of guy you'd want to be caught in a fight with. He's got a really good sense of humor though, and I consider him one of my friends.

Anyway, I finish counting cash, lock the drawer, and we part to go our separate ways when this guy comes around the corner who's larger than I (but I'm pretty dainty and easy to take out) who's pissed about something. He starts screaming at me, so I apologize to attempt to calm him down so we can get to the root of the problem. I guess he came off of our cigarette register, so he must not have had his ID or something. Now, he reaches out with his hand to grab at me, so I take a step back and he ends up seizing one side of the collar of my snazzy new polo and yanking on it so hard that I heard it rip. I dropped everything I was holding at the time because, hello! I'm trying to get the hell away here!

I grabbed the dude's hand and attempted to wrestle his shirt away when out of nowhere, the manager I'd previously been joking around with comes charging between us. Thank GOD he lagged behind and saw what was going on! He grabbed the dude by his throat and slammed him up against the wall by the service desk while screaming into his face "I fucking dare you to try and touch that girl again motherfucker! I dare you to try!"

I fled the scene and never did get around to asking the girl managing smoke shop what the hell his problem was. I spent the rest of the night in the back office crying in the company of Hero the Manager.

Now, as if that wasn't bad enough? I came in the next day to rumors that Manager and I had been doing not so tame things in the office.

Effing work!