Things You Should Not Say To Me While Ringing Up My Purchases

There are so many instances where I’ve nearly left a pile of drool at the checkout line because my mouth was gaping open, shocked at the audacity of people and the things they say. So much so, that I felt compelled to share the list of what customer service people should never say to me (or anyone else) at the register.

1. Do not tell me how to parent my child. If I wanted your advice, I would ask for it. And if I’m asking for advice, I’m probably not going to solicit someone who I don’t know, doesn’t know my kids, or someone who may not even have kids of their own. Seriously – I’m sure you are just the “best auntie ever”, but if you don’t have kids of your own – you really shouldn’t be handing out parental advice. (The only exception to this would be if you are a teacher.)

1.b. Don’t parent my child for me. This has happened to me only twice. Both times a person attempted to tell my son what not to do. (He was eyeing the candy and the clerk told him no.) I laughed. (And no, I didn’t buy the candy.)

2. Unless you are 1000% sure – do not comment on what a “big boy” my baby is (when she is in fact a girl in head-to-toe pink!) Just say how beautiful my baby is and move on.

3. Do not comment on the price of an item. As in, “Whoa! You’re gonna pay how much for that?!” No lie. This actually happened to me, over a pair of $40 jeans. Umm. You work here. At the place that sells the jeans at the price you are balking at. Why the shock?

4. Do not make judgments out loud about anything I am buying. Everyone is of course entitled to their opinion. I just don’t need to hear yours when you feel critical or morally superior.

5. Don’t ask weird questions. Questions like, “Wow. you have a lot of vegetables here. And all organic. You some kind of health nut?” How the heck am I supposed to answer that? “Why yes, I try to be a super-wacko!” Good grief!

6. Please, for the love of all that is holy, do not tell me your life’s story. I am sure you are a very sweet person and working retail is VERY hard, I know. But these two minions in my cart have a limited attention span. If we don’t speed it up, I’m seriously going to have an aneurism.

7. Yes, 15-year-old customer service rep, they are feminine products. No I’m not really embarrassed, but I can clearly see that you are. I’m sorry. It’s part of life. You’ll get over it.

8.  Please don’t tell me to do your job for you. At the Navy Exchange there are a few customer service reps that sit while ringing up customers. I don’t have a problem with that. I used to be a bank teller, I know long days on your feet are rough. But there is one rep, (the one I avoid like the plague) who is rude and actually said, “I’m too tired to get up and reach your stuff. Put  your stuff closer to the scanner.” It was literally inches from her hand. I almost laughed. Then I realized she was dead serious.

9. Please don’t check your phone in the middle of our transaction. I think it is very rude for customers to talk on cell phones while simultaneously treating the person behind the counter as if they are a robot. It’s obnoxious and demeaning. I keep my phone off and I expect you to do the same.

1o. Do not act as if I don’t exist. I am a person, too. Please don’t have a conversation with a co-worker and ignore me entirely.

I won’t be rude to you, you don’t be rude to me, mmmkay?

What crazy things have you heard while being waited on at the checkout line?

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It Wasn’t a Mushy Banana Day….but…..

Had a great time in Minnesota (will blog about that one later tonight after the kiddos are asleep) but I am so glad to be home and in my own bed. We have a tempurpedic mattress and sadly it makes us wimps when it comes to staying in hotels with crappy beds. Yeah, I know – more of my 1st world problems.

So after a great night’s rest under our own roof, I get up this morning and am ready to tackle the day.  Bootcamp workout, mounds of laundry and a grocery trip await.  (Oh, I know – how do I handle the excitement?!) Incredibly, we make it out the door after my workout with my mom and sister. I have even had a shower! Somedays, just the shower is a miracle in itself! So off we go down the road after our usual cajoling of Hannah to get in her seat and get buckled and playing “find Jacob” as he hides in the very back of the car and won’t get buckled until we sing, “Where is Jacob? Where is Jacob? I don’t know, I don’t know….” Oy.
The kids have begged me to let them go to the “Freddy’s Playland” at Fred Meyer. If you don’t know, this store is AMAZING. Not only do they have everything you could possibly every want or need available for purchase, they also offer a 1 hour child care room so one can grocery shop in peace. GENIUS. But for whatever reason, we have yet to utilize this. Until today.
After filling out a little form with our information, they run into the play area and I jet off to get done in 20 minutes what usually takes me an hour and half with the kiddos in tow. I am meandering through the apples and pears, contemplating what to have for dinner. Perusing peppers in peace. Ahh. I sigh and breathe. This is what shopping alone feels like. It’s been so long I hardly remember what it’s like. I then hear:
“Lori Stoffers – Please return to Freddy’s Playland please. Lori Stoffers – to Freddy’s playland please.”
Crap.
Back I go and Hannah isn’t digging it. I ask Jake if he wants to stay and play and he does (hooray!)  Hannah and I head back to get the shopping done. Shopping with just one of two isn’t bad! Only one pair of arms to keep “inside the ride”! After 50 times of, “Sit down, Hannah!” and “Don’t grab the eggs” and “Not for you” and “Nope, not today” and ten more “Buckle up please’s” we make our way to the checkout line, only to hear:
“Lori Stoffers, please return to Freddy’s Playland.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. I am almost done. So the checker kindly calls the playland attendant and lets her know I will be right there. I pay (all the while shoeing Hannah’s hands away from the debit card machine buttons and keeping her in the cart and away from the eggs) and head to pick up Jake. They called because he had to go potty. Hooray for potty training!
With the cart full of groceries we head once again to the bathroom and by this time Jacob is starting to wind up about a missing sticker (he had 2 but suddenly needed 3 stickers on his shirt). We avoid the Sticker Crisis of 2012 by my careful distraction of hand washing and peeing. (YAY me!)
Loading up the groceries into the back, I let the kids crawl over the seat from the back into their carseats. They LOVE this and think it’s great fun. Ok – knock yourself out. But the rule is that by the time I get the groceries in, the cart put away and come back – you need to be in your seat so I can get you buckled. And of course they never are lest we miss out on a riotous game of “How far can we push mommy before her head explodes”.
While my head stayed attached, (barely) it just wasn’t getting done so I picked Hannah up and placed her in her carseat to which I was met with (LOUD) protest and sudden “No Spine Syndrome”. (You know the drill – where suddenly they become a noodle and slither to the floor?!) Crying all the way and Jacob complaining that Hannah was growling at him and he didn’t like it and could I tell her to stop – I drove as quickly as I could. Nap time. We all need to just chill out.
The car parked safely in the driveway, I let the minions out, unlock the front door and head back to the car to drag in the groceries. I lift the handle on the first bag and find cracked and broken eggs. Awesome. At least it wasn’t a mushy banana day, right?!
Is it too late to want to still be on vacation!!?? They say not to cry over spilled milk, and I have to say – I actually didn’t cry over the broken eggs either! I laughed knowing that this day was yet again going to make a funny blog post and the 4 people reading it would have a chuckle!