Pigalina's Palace: Work

Pigalina is Permanent

Wed, 14 Nov 2007 05:42:27 GMT

Hurrah, hooray. I am finally a permanent member of staff so I can now carry on doing exactly what I have been doing for the last 8 months indefinately.
My coaching paid off and my manager told me my interview was "10, no, 100 times better than last time." Good, it couldn't really have got much worse than that last one. I "wanked on" about myself as advised. I must be good at wanking.

So, watch out unemployed of South D.

What's The Time...Mr Wolf?

Wed, 31 Oct 2007 05:04:23 GMT

Yes, time to be interviewed for my own job again.
There are 2, possibly 4 positions going this time around and I am being interviewed, doing a listening, writing and maths test and weeing my pants for it tommorrow. I had interview skills coaching today so I am armed with knowledge for my time in there.
Wish me luck! 2nd (though technically 3rd) time lucky.
I am very annoyed about having to do the writing, maths and reading tests again. Can't they take my results from the last two times? Also they have added a delightful listening test in too. Awesome. I've only been listening to clients for the past 6 months. In a bid to keep it all fair and above board though I have to go through the same stuff as everyone else applying.

The main advice I was given today is "Just wank on about yourself".
Will try.
This is really not something I enjoy. I had to write twelve examples of my fabulousness in the application. Alas "O for orsome" followed by an arrow through each box was unacceptable so I had to spend all last weekend working on it.

Pigalina - Could Do Better.

Wed, 26 Sep 2007 09:28:49 GMT

If you cast your eyes back to my post dated 14th August you will see that I had the pleasure of applying for the job I am already doing. Well! Seems that my skills check - maths, writing a letter etc was great and my application and CV divine (well not quite, but good anyway, despite there amost being some snot and tears during the skills test over a particularly hard question). So, the tests to see if I was capable of doing the job I have been doing for a few months proved that I could, with bells on. All was looking well, Pigalina was a little shiny button on a pile of plastic ones screaming pick me, pick meeee! That was until my interview.

I went in, armed with notes as was recommended and, seemingly, looked upon favourably. (I don't know about you but taking notes to an interview implies you are making most of your answers up and need some prompting). I had great scenarios worked out about how I am so awesome with clients and go out of my way for them by talking to the IRD on their cellphones or calling the doctor to make appointments for them. It was going to be a breeze.
When I got in there I poured myself a glass of water so that I looked relaxed and the inevitable dry mouth of fear would not be a problem. The questions began and I could have fallen to the floor and assumed the fetal position. None of my scenarios matched the questions, my notes were useless and I flailed around trying to come up with answers. They asked me one question ("Tell us about a time you had to explain something that the client did not understand") that would have been great with one of my scenarios until they added "With a client that you had never met before." Curses! One of the interviewing panel knew the scenario that I was going to use and knew that I knew the person. Damn! Rather than just lie and say it anyway I floundered before pulling a crappy one out of the air.
Don't even get me started on the diabolical question on Integrity.

So a week later results were announced. I got taken into the little seminar room where the manager told me that Pigalina was to remain a temp. After that stellar performance? Outrageous! Seems that skills tests have nothing to do with it where I work and it all comes down to points scored during the interview. Yes, interview well and you can get the job even though you may not be able to tell how many beans make 5 and couldn't even write a letter to Santa. She said that my interview had really let me down and that I took (useless) notes in but didn't refer to them. Boo-urns! I had kind of expected it but it still didn't stop me wanting to have a little blub. I had to sit there and keep a happy face on and then to make it worse the whole office knew something was afoot and I had to walk out all nonchalant and head back to my desk. Apparently this very predicament has faced others in my office. Surely it is time to rethink the hiring process?

So I remain temporary until the next round of interviews due to start soon. I am to be coached by my manager and trainer on interview skills and we will do mock interviews. How embarrassing!

When Geeks Go To Computer Training

Wed, 26 Sep 2007 08:18:55 GMT

Today I had training in the morning for a new computer system that is supposed to come in and make all of our lives at work easier. It will replace the 3 we currently have fun trying to get to "talk" to each other with just one. Or it will now be a four way conversation.
I sat down at a computer and as usual it was all flickery so I went to change the refresh rate.
"Stop that, leave that!" a voice bellowed behind me. "Leave my settings alone."
"But it flickers and hurts my eyes" I whimpered.
The trainer then proceeded to tell everyone that nobody was to touch his settings "no changing the sizes or the fonts".
Bah!
He then turned the lights off so that we could watch the projector and then all I could see were bright flickering screens mocking me and threatening to give me a headache.
Every single computer in my workplace is the same. I think I am one of only 3 people that would know about the refresh rate. Everyone else just takes Panadol and has a lie down.

Applying for your Own Job

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 09:41:47 GMT

As my contract is coming up for renewal again and there are two fulltime positions available I am in the odd position of having to apply for a job that I am already doing. It is extremely weird updating your CV to include you current job knowing that your manager is going to see it. You don't really want to be seen as tooting your own horn but you also can't sell yourself short or else you could do yourself out of a job you obviously can do!
On the plus side I have had an excellent week so far. I am off reception - YAY and have occupied my days with lovely things like filing and watching job seeker seminars and reading through training modules. They discovered today that I had not completed the orientation pack that I should have done in my first week. So this afternoon I answered questions such as "Who is your manager?" and drew a seating plan of the office with each desk labelled with the person's name, phone number and position. Next week I am off to "Training School" where I will learn to be an Unemployment Case manager for real. Not flying by the seat of my pants and hoping that I am not lying like I do at the moment.

My Work = Great Stories That Cannot Be Told.

Wed, 25 Jul 2007 09:00:48 GMT

I am currently getting paid three times the amount that I got for wiping old people's arses for, as Mr Pigalina puts it, "sitting on" mine. Alas, I think he does not appreciate what I go through everyday. It is me that cops the flack when there are no appointments available. Me who gets accused when the money has not been paid. It is me that has to fill out forms for people who cannot read or write whilst managing a never ending stream of inquires from impatient people.
Whilst doing all of this I file everyone elses papers and process their paperwork to save them from having to do it. I listen to stories and offer a sympathetic ear (sometimes I care, often I am pretending) and make sure client's aren't left waiting too long. It is a hard job keeping everyone happy. Every morning I dread going in, but when I am there it is fine.
It is for these reasons - it's not that bad; I get paid alright and I like my workmates that I have to be VERY careful about what I write on here. I long to write about the seedy oldies and bogans (so many) that hit on me, the crazy names and the downright mad people but I can't! There is a zero tolerance at work for "breaches of privacy".
Please, understand my pain. I long to share my experiences with the world, but alas I cannot. Unless I want to go back to sales.

Oh Be-have

Sat, 05 May 2007 03:55:02 GMT

Seems I will have to be on my guard whenever I leave the house. I have been spotted twice in one week. No, it is not fans of my oh-so exciting and earth-shattering blog. It is clients from work. I was seen having a hot chocolate with friends last weekend by someone who works at the cafe, which they informed me of when they came into work the other day. Today when Mr Pigalina pulled up at an intersection I could see a lady at the crossing intently peering into the car as she tried to work out how she knew me. I knew her and tried my hardest to look straight ahead so as not to catch her eye.
We were told at our recent meeting about data integrity and client confidentiality that we are supposed to behave well at all times. If we are up to no good such as blowing a whistle dressed in fluoro clothes at a rave whilst "tripping out on dirty dog" or perhaps something harder, someone could identify us as employees of the Ministry and that could bring them into disrepute. Do they really expect thousands of people to behave everytime they go out? Even at birthdays and other such causes for merriment? And would people really dob someone in for having a few too many at the pub? Probably yes actually. Gracious, I shall have to watch myself, we don't want a "Pigalina caught having fun scandal" now do we? That will mean I will have to be careful and maybe cut back on doing things such as this (never!):

Things I have learned in my new job.

Wed, 18 Apr 2007 07:54:29 GMT

Some people are such "super high security clearance" in the armed forces that they don't even have access to their own pay details.

If a form does not have PTO at the bottom that probably means that there is nothing on the back you need to fill out.

The Easter holidays yields a high percentage of lost wallets requiring emergency food money from us. (Something to do with a holiday of feasting upon chocolate coming up?)

Some people think that they can hand a form in without filling in a single box and we will know what is going on.

It is my fault that people don't read their letters properly.

It is also my fault that there is no public transport in rural areas and it is jolly rude of me to make people make appointments at set times. How dare I not let them just see someone right there and then?!

Some days......

Today we had a talk on Code of Conduct issues. Did you know I am not even allowed to tell someone where I know a client from if they say hello to me on the street. For example: Mr Pigalina and I are strolling down the street and someone says "Hi!". Mr Pigalina asks "How do you know him/her?" I would have to reply "Oh just from around" or "I met them the other day". This is to protect client confidentiality because they might not want Mr Pigalina to know that they visit the Social Welfare office. Good job there aren't really any "cute boys" that come to work else Mr Pigalina may think I am up to something with such vague answers.

New, Secrecy Clause Signed, Job

Thu, 08 Mar 2007 06:25:35 GMT

Last Wednesday I left the first ever job that it has not been a huge relief for me to see the back of.

My very first job was delivering junk mail in a hilly suburb. The job paid terribly, the junk mail was heavy, I had to fold each item to fit it into the mail boxes and Dunedin is not famous for its delightful weather. There was one time that I got caught in a torrential downfall of rain. This did however seem to seal in Mr Pigalina's mind that he should ask me out on a date. Something to do with me being in a soaking wet, white t-shirt (with Dennis the Menace on the front).

There was the job I had at a rest home when I was 16 - serving food and wiping bums, an odd combination. The day after I learnt to put on a catheter and was informed I would be learning showering I quit.

I had a few retail jobs in between and a job, for two weeks where I placed sanitary towel bins (yes, those kind) and nappy bins in to a huge dishwasher.

Then I had my job at the supermarket while I was at University. It was delightful to stand in one place for up to 8 hours a day and be talked down to by snooty ladies. They don't seem to realize that 80% of the checkout operators are their future teachers, doctors, lawyers and...customer service reps. Here is a photo of the delightful day that I left there, note the beautiful smock:

My next job was where this blog all started and you can read about some of my great experiences in the archives. As if you would. It was in an electronics store, which you think would be pretty sweet but due to lack of staff and very demanding customers I went a bit doo-lally and started hoping to get hit by a car so that I could have a few weeks time-out in hospital. I have since learnt that I could have gone onto a Sickness Benefit on the grounds of stress. Why do I never know such useful things at the time? Instead I left that job and moved to the job I spoke about at the start.
At first I didn't enjoy it much, there didn't seem to be much to do. Soon I began to appreciate the laid back nature of the job and the people that I worked with. When I left it was only because I had to, I had been covering maternity leave and with the baby not only out but almost a year old I had to go. There was nowhere for me to stay.
This brings me to my title and the reason that, apart from having been away on holiday for two weeks, I have not updated my blog in a while. I am now working for what I suppose most people would call the unemployment office. Currently I am the receptionist (though in the future I will apparently be training and being given clients to manage.) This position is fabulous for meeting colourful characters and hearing long-winded life stories, such as this. However, as much as this would be great blog fodder I am unable to use any of it! I had to sign a secrecy agreement indicating that I would not do such things. I am not even sure that I am allowed to tell Mr Pigalina about my interesting day. Well, I am certainly not allowed to tell him who I saw and why. Mostly though the stories that I hear and people that I meet are incredibly depressing and make me so glad that I have the life that I have.
I have discovered since working in my new job that you can legitimately be off work and receive money (albeit a small amount) for tiredness and a lack of motivation. What? I could have been off work this entire time?

The (Not Very) Final Countdown

Tue, 30 Jan 2007 09:43:32 GMT

Only 29 days left until I am unemployed!

I would like to remain so but I, Mr Pigalina and my menagerie do need to eat. Mr Pigalina has given in to the incessant mewling of William and has granted the cats Whiskas Vitabites biscuits instead of Cat Meow. So, there are posh cat delights to fund. Also those damn rats keep turning their teeny, twitchy noses up at anything except human food.

I am currently "the floater" (how flattering) at work. This means I am covering for people while they are on holiday and it means a couple of days at this desk, a couple at another, trying to answer their emails and doing all of the jobs they usually do.

It is quite entertaining and, up until today I have been very busy. Alas today I got a bit bored so, while trying to find the address for a parcel I was overjoyed to find this hilarious name in the phonebook. How we laughed (ah, simple pleasures). Before you ask I wasn't looking up silly words, it was genuinely the surname on the parcel, most unfortunate. The name at the bottom:

Man I get bored.

Well, on March 1st if I have no job I have to get down to Maccas. Fingers and toes crossed that the couple of jobs, I am picky, I have applied for will yeild a fantastic result.

Immortality Available Online

Wed, 13 Dec 2006 08:40:17 GMT

Today I was going through parcels at work, trying to locate addresses, a daily task for me. (I had to open this particular parcel after all other avenues were exhausted). It was from Immortalitydevice.com (actually http://www.alexchiu.com/). Inside were jars of pills and some odd black things that looked like rings with button cell batteries attached.
Anyway, I was trying to find an email address for the receiver when I noticed this fabulous explanation on the Gorgeouspils (yes, Gorgeous pills) that were in the parcel:

"Thank you for purchasing Gorgeouspil. This pill enhances the performance of the immortality rings or the foot braces like 50 times or something."

Like 50 times or something. What the? Is Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite the spokesperson for this whole thing or what?
All I know, with such eloquent descripions of the products effectivity I will be buying myself some Hotchickpills, sorry Gorgeouspils to go with my new button cell bling.

Alas, I never did find the owner of the parcel either.

Feminine Wash

Tue, 14 Nov 2006 06:46:30 GMT

One lady in Dunedin will be red faced today. I had to examine a parcel that was leaking. Inside was a bag of toiletries that somebody had obviously left behind and they had been kindly forwarded on. Alas, some "feminine wash" for "intimate cleansing" had leaked everywhere. Seeing as I had to put the leaking bottle into a plastic bag and rebox the whole parcel and send along a damaged parcel letter the receiver is sure to know I know that she has lady parts that smell oddly floral.

The Joys of the Postal System

Mon, 10 Jul 2006 09:35:49 GMT

Ok, remember I told you about the poo parcel, the one I sniffed? Well, a few days later, I came across this unsavoury looking article, it had fallen out of its packaging:

(I apologize for the poor image quality, I took the photo on my phone)

Was it a poo sample? Was it soil? We could but only guess, all we knew was that it had come from a farm. It was promptly disposed of.

The most fun part of my job is finding addresses for parcels that are addressed incorrectly. Sometimes it is a simple mistake, missing the flat number off or putting the numbers in the wrong order. Sometimes the people have moved. Others though, and you would be suprised as to how many we get are labelled thus: John Smith, Dunedin. Some make it all way from overseas with such rubbish labelling. Do people think New Zealand is that tiny? "Oh they will only have one John Smith in that whole town, the Postman will know where to take it." I wouldn't think to myself "Ooh, I must send my Nan a birthday card: Nan Robinson, Warwickshire, England." Some people are dumb.

Though saying that some postal workers are dumb. The other day I came a cross a parcel that had been bouncing around the South Island for a few weeks. It has been out for delivery twice in Christchurch. Considering it was clearly marked INDIA and had Indian street names on it, this is some mean feat. A sorter in Germany (where it came from) must have mis-sorted it to NZ. Then Inward International have accepted it, sent it down to the South Island where they received it, sorted it twice for the non-Indian streets of Christchurch. Then they thought "Oh why don't we try Dunedin?" Good plan. When it arrived I was able to write INDIA on it really big and put it into outward international where it belonged. Gracious.

Tags - Work, Life, Post, Parcel, Poo, Christchurch, New Zealand, Dunedin, India

Please Do Not Post Food

Thu, 25 May 2006 11:07:29 GMT

A couple of people have suggested that I regularly post details of amusing items I find in parcels at work. This I will do but please let me stress I DO NOT open parcels willy-nilly in the hope of finding something weird. The only parcels that ever get opened are damaged ones, where I have to check the contents are OK and, on rare occasions, undeliverable parcels which are opened only when other avenues have been exhausted and there is a glimmer of hope that there is a packing slip with the correct address on it inside.

Anyway, back covered, I can tell you about a delightful damaged parcel I had to look at yesterday. Some brown liquid was oozing out of a plastic envelope and emitting a spicy whiff. Inside was a tomato, a taped shut tub of margarine (though the presence of tape suggests that was not margarine), a tupperware tub of what looked like sausage and the offending article. There was a flimsy plastic tub full of rice and large brown dried veg in juice. This juice was what had leaked. My favourite though was the grapefruit half lovingly wrapped in clingfilm. Why only half?

What makes it more odd is that this is not a one off, we regularly get food parcels such as this. Meat, fruit, you name it and someone will have sent it through the postal system. We don't mind taking it if it is correctly packaged, but in a plactic envelope? Mums around the country frett that their children are not eating and decide to courier them some lunch.

People forget that these parcels get put into sacks with all of the other envelopes. They are not individually placed lovingly on the seat of the pick up courier and then driven, wrapped in cotton wool, one by one around the country to their destination. Next time you want to mail the meal you just cooked spare a thought for the poor person who must mop up the gravy and wipe it off the other parcels when the lid had popped off the container in the envelope.

Tags - Work, Life, Food, Parcels, Mail, Grapefruit

Live Fish and Poo Parcels

Thu, 11 May 2006 11:29:44 GMT

I was getting rather worried that I would never have anything to blog about, work-wise, now that I no longer work in retail. My new job is actually quite slow going and I find myself having to stretch tasks out for as long as I can so as not to get bored.

If I am trying to locate somebody's correct address so that we can send them their parcel I get rather disapointed if the first thing I try gives me the answer I am looking for. I like it the most when they are not in the phone book, there is no sender on the parcel, the courier tracking number cannot be traced to anybody and I have to write a letter. Typing their last name into the White Pages website to be given their phone number in seconds does not make for a busy Pigalina.

I know I shouldn't complain, after being rushed off my feet and losing my mind due to stress I should be grateful to be taking it easy. Sometimes though I feel like I am taking it too easy, I feel cheeky, but there is simply not that much for me to do. I have 4 hours of set tasks, which don't actually take 4 hours. The rest I kind of have to fill in the best I can. I do get to look after the damaged parcels which makes for interesting times and brings me to the first part of my title.

I was examing a soggy cardboard box today. I flipped it open to see who it was addressed to, then flipped it back over and cut it open. Inside I found a plastic bag full of water, taped shut with four snails inside. Then, to my horror, I spotted another bag with something bright orange inside, nestled in the shredded paper. I ran into the office, dancing on the spot (like Homer when he has a spider by his keys). "There's a box, with a fish and it's dead. It's yuck." Two others came to my aid and we were pleased to discover that the fish was still alive, although he did not have much water left. We found another bag with 4 tiny fish in it. Those poor fish. I has flipped them upside down a few times; their box had been handled goodness how many times; they had been on two trucks and a plane. The stupid person that sent them hadn't bothered to even put a "This way up" note or a "Fragile" sticker on the box.

Now live animals aren't the only type of creatures that pass through the depot (though we don't intend to send the live ones). We courier dead pets to the pet crematorium and icky stuffed animal heads.

Also today I was handed a small parcel and told it was "stinky". It was in a plastic envelope and was squishy. I couldn't smell anything, so I held it closer to my nose and sniffed it. It smelt like farts. "It smells a bit like farts" I said. I was not impressed when I was told - "Yes, that's because it is a fecal sample".

Tags - Work, Parcels, Fish, Bored, Daily Life, Smelly

P-A-R-T Why? Because I Have A New Job

Tue, 28 Mar 2006 06:26:19 GMT

Ah yes, I only have TWO MORE DAYS as a salesperson. I then become a Customer Support Officer.

I know! I will still be dealing with customers, though not as many and hopefully sending parcels will be a bit easier for most of them to grasp. The amount of grown adults that have no idea that batteries have correct ways of being loaded into things amazes me.

My boss rang me up today and (pretty much) begged me to stay on for another month. When he rang I had not yet been offered the position. I agreed to stay on and he said that I didn't have to work Easter, could swan off to job interviews should they arise and only give a days notice to leave. A pretty sweet deal really. Then alas, I had to break his poor heart and throw it all back when I got offered my new job half an hour later.

I will be sad to leave my workmates but I am overjoyed to be getting out of that hellhole. I may actually be able to find things that I am looking for, not waste 20 minutes looking for the 7 10m network cables we are supposed to have to find none. No more crawling on my hands and knees in a roof space to look for a box for a display telephone. No more bluffing my way through sales of ipaqs and PDAs. No queues of people getting angry that they are waiting around when they choose to come in at lunchtime when they are pressed for time and everyone else in town has decided to go shopping too because it is also their lunch break. I will be able to eat in a room that doesn't smell like poo because, hopefully the toilet will not be right next to it, and I won't be working with the same bunch of guys who can make the whole stockroom smell like rotting warthog carcasses have been dipped in sewerage and left next to some burning hair in a remote corner. I won't have to waste time trying to explain to people that just because their friend/son/dad/neighbour's cousin's wife said that you can buy a certain product or do something a certain way, doesn't mean it is true. Gone are the days of swinging, monkeylike from shelving whilst reaching for a printer with my fingertips because the ladder does not reach, or cannot be found, or has no space to be set up due to piles of mess everywhere.

Ahhhhhh, relief is maximum.

Tags - Work, Job, Career, Jobs, New Job

Have a Nice Day-ay!

Wed, 22 Mar 2006 03:54:34 GMT

Ah, a study has finally confirmed what all at my work have known all along. Pretending to be cheerful to customers can drive you mad.

I was reading the news on Vodafone live at lunchtime and was highly amused to read this:

"Reasearchers at a German university [...] say enforced jolliness on the job is likely to make people fall ill. They found that flight attendants, sales personnel, call centre operators, waiters and others in contact with the public for long periods risked seriously harming their health. Psychologists at Frankfurt University said fake friendliness led to depression, stress and a lowering of the immune system, which in turn can trigger other ailments. 'Every time a person is forced to repress his true feelings, there are negative consequences for his health,' researcher Dieter Zapf said."

It is like they took the shop I work in and looked at us all under the microscope. We are all going mental but at least we have a scientific reason why now!

I am leaving there on April 1st, scary! I have no job to go to and I will miss everyone, it is due to things such as stress and depression that I have to leave. Poos, if only we were allowed to be rude and then I could stay.

Tags - Work, Stress.

Pigalina is Scared (Yet Happy)

Fri, 17 Mar 2006 00:03:59 GMT

I have just written my letter of resignation for my shop job. I intend to hand it in tomorrow, scary! I have no other job to go to, I am going to take my chances on the temping scene. What with my bow-hunting skills, my computer hacking skills, not to mention my skills in magic I should, hopefully, be OK. If not I will have to get down to Macca's and ask "Do you want fries with that?" like so many other Arts Majors before me.

Mummy can I have a...

Sat, 07 Jan 2006 06:23:05 GMT

Yet another crazy phone conversation at work.

A lady called me and asked:

"Do you have those new dolls in?"

I asked her what they were called because some people refer to Furby and the like as a doll. She decided to spell it for me:

"K-N_O_L_Y_S_I_N_O_R_P."

"Errrm, not that I know of. K_N_O_L_Y_S_I_N_O_R_P?"

"Yeah, my friend got one from you guys."

"What does the doll do? Does it talk?"

"Yes, and it was about $30."

"Oh, Cindy Smart?"

"Yeah, Cindy Smart."

How do you get knolysinorp from Cindy Smart? The only thing we could think of was she must have been reading some foreign language text on the box. Unfortunately we had none left so we couldn't check it out for ourselves.

Forget Barbie and Bratz, Knoly Sinorp is the toy all girls want this year.

Nothing Better to Worry About - Part 2

Mon, 19 Dec 2005 07:22:37 GMT

(This amused me so much that I wrote it down as soon as I got off the phone so I would not forget.)

I answered the phone at work today and a lady said:

"I've just recieved one of your mailers..." (I thought she was going to ask me if we had such-and-such in stock, but no)

"...in my letterbox which is clearly labelled no junk mail. It makes me want to not shop at your store."

"Oh sorry about that but it's not actually us that sends them out it's a distribution company."

"Yes I know that but I don't have their number. I assume it's ______."

"I'm not quite sure sorry."

"Well when this happens I just don't go to those stores so it defeats the purpose of sending them. I want you to lodge a protest please."

"I'll see what I can do."

"I live in L____ Street."

"Ok, I'll try my best."

Oh dear, that poor lady. Her world must have just crashed down around her ears when she discovered the rogue pamphlet in her letterbox. How dare that poor 12 year old who had to lug the heavy bag of pamphlets up her long, steep, street get rid of one in her mailbox (to ease the load and get home quicker - yes I once did that job so I know how boring it is). Most people would have gone, "Oh, a mailer, I'll just throw it out/read it/scoop up cat poo with it." Not this lady, that wicked, wicked junk mail.

The cheek of it!

Wed, 14 Dec 2005 08:00:30 GMT

I answered the phone at work yesterday and a young boy/girl (it's hard to tell when they are about 10) asked me if we had "Scrabble, not Junior scrabble but the other one" on PCCD. I typed in Scrabble and only Junior Scrabble came up.

I informed them that we didn't have the one they wanted. Well! He/She started getting desperate, "Oh but can you get it in? Can you order it? Where else would have it? No I've tried all of those places." He/She then asked me "Are you sure you spelt it right?"

Cheeky monkey! I felt like saying excuse me mate I have an English Degree, I certainly do know how to spell! However, I didn't because I feared they would say "Why do you work at ____ _____ then?"

Why indeed.

Adults say the darndest things

Tue, 22 Nov 2005 09:16:00 GMT

Lots of people come in and ask me for UBS cables when they mean USB and we had one guy loudly declaring that his DBD no longer worked. We also get people asking for "walk-about phones". However I heard the best one ever today. A man pointed to the camera memory cards and said "I'll get one of those STD cards too."

Goodness!

So glad I am back at work

Tue, 15 Nov 2005 09:37:33 GMT

(Warning: This rant will be long)

Before I tell any holiday tales or mention the grand time I had in town saying Cheerio to Nick and Jenny who are moving back to Wellington, I must get off my chest an event that happened today.

I am afraid that I probably won't convey exactly how hideously irritating this woman was, but I will try. Let's just say that by the time I managed to get off the telephone I was literally shaking with rage. It was crazy - as was she.

This lady rang to tell me that her fax machine had run out of ink and what was I going to do do about it? It turns out that the salesperson that sold it to her had neglected to mention that it only came with a starter pack of ink that will do about 20 pages. This would have been fine had she not lived in the middle of nowhere. (Don't even get me started on stupid people who choose to live miles from civilisation and then bitch about the lack of facilities). Anyway, she was in a tizz - I have run out of ink, I need my fax what can I do about this? I told her that it was easily fixed all she had to do was buy some new ink. "I can't buy ink!" I asked where she lived. She told me she lived in some little village in Central Otago. As I am not familiar with every tiny settlement in the lower South Island I enquired if it was anywhere near Queenstown where we had a store. She blasted me, shouting that she was 100 kilometres away (it appeared that she was 100 kilometeres from anything in every direction and of course her car was "broken"). (To make things worse she would repeat each tale of woe about three times).

This starter pack of ink had only printed "8 faxes" (which would later change to 4) and her manual said it would do 20. I was made to wait while she flicked through the pages of the book to find where it said this. I told her that depending on the size and ink required for each fax this would vary. She went mental about how she should have been told that it didn't have a full ink thing. She should have been told so I apologized to her that she wasn't informed. I said that the salesman mustn't have realized. "But you sell and promote these products." "Yes, but it is very hard to keep track of every single detail of the thousands of products instore." "Well you sell them!" Grrrr. She also kept going on that she had been recommended something rubbish, she'd had fax machines for 12 years and they had never had ink. She was running on the now obsolete thermal system. But of course we should still sell them.

She asked if I could send her some ink out, now I thought we were getting somewhere. I told her that I couldn't but our mail-order service could. I was about to give her the phone number when she screamed at me that she needed the ink today for her business (growing lavender - the world would fall apart if that business was unavailable for one day, anyway what about the telephone?). She said that she would be calling Fair Go - New Zealand's fantastic consumer affairs show where even the undeserving seem to get compensated. I was shaking at this point and said "Well, do then, ring Fair Go". At this point the ears of the guys working with me pricked up and they wondered what was going on. "Aren't you going to do anything? This is disgusting!" I told her that the only thing she could do was get one through mail-order or get one from a shop. I informed her of the shop that was closest to her but still that wasn't good enough. She wanted to bring back the fax machine because it wasn't satisfactory. I asked how long she had had it and it was outside her right of return period. I told her I would have to get the manager to see if he would allow it.

I was quite annoyed about having to pass the call on too, I had wanted to handle it myself as I usually pass calls on when they get too hard. The poor guy was on the phone to her as she repeated her stories to him 5 times as she had with me. He ended up sitting on the floor until she had finished. In the end she got nowhere as he told her that she had to go out and buy some ink. She did tell him to say sorry to me and told him that she wouldn't be going to Fair Go (oh the shame I would feel if I got exposed on national television for informing a customer that the only way to replaced used up ink is to buy some more). What is even more amusing is that it turned out that the manager had met this woman a week or so ago in our shop and had wanted to slap her then because she kept making rude comments about one of the salesman's maths skills. Altogether now - BIATCH!

Nothing better to worry about

Tue, 18 Oct 2005 22:18:33 GMT

An old lady came to me at work at the weekend and said that the light on the bottom of her optical mouse stayed on when the power to the computer was switched off and asked if she could bring it back. I asked her if the mouse actually worked.

"Yes, but I don't like it that the light stays on."

"But there's not actually anything wrong with it, and the light staying on isn't going to ruin it."

"I don't like it."

I sighed and informed her that as she had had it less than 14 days she could return it. Which she did that afternoon. She was in quite a lather, that little red light was a very big deal. Some people have nothing better to worry about.

We have a very annoying policy at work which allows people to do things like that. It is a 14 day change of mind right of return policy. I am positive a lot of the stuff we get returned was just needed for a few days so people buy it, use it for what they needed it for and then return it. We are then stuck with a load of second hand stuff to try and shift. Who wants to buy second hand lightbulbs and phone batteries?

More work stuff

Fri, 30 Sep 2005 05:51:53 GMT

A man came in the other day and asked if we had any 600cm satelitte dishes. My workmate said:

"So, a 6 metre dish?"

"No, 600 centimetres."

"That is 6 metres."

"600 centimetres."

I whispered that he might mean milimetres, which would make it 60 centimetres. "We have a 65 centimetre one."

"No, 600 centimetres."

You just can't win with some people.

We have also had a load of Russian sailors in the past few days. I managed to sell one an Mp3 player, though for a while I thought that he had said that it was too quiet so he didn't want it. Trying to explain the difference between two laptops with pointing and nodding and thumbs up, however, proved more difficult.

I Work.

The Heat is on, The heat is o-on

Mon, 19 Sep 2005 08:05:08 GMT

My deadline for leaving my current job had been and gone. Do you know how disheartening it is when you set yourself a goal and it fails? This is always hapenning to me and the goal is usually get a new job.

My new goal is to be out of there before Christmas, I do not want to have to be there on Boxing Day when all of the ungrateful people come in: "Oh I got this iPod for Christmas but it is just a mini so can I return it?" "This TV doesn't match my decor". One thing that I definitely can see happening is most of the stuff crapping out and people angrily having to return it. It seems shop workers don't deserve a Christmas break. We'll be there all Christmas Eve, then back again on Boxing Day for your refund pleasure. I recently asked to have New Years Day off (it is my wedding anniversary and one of the reasons we chose that day was so that we would have the day off together). Who wants to work New Years Day anyway? Most people have roaring hangovers. I was told that nobody is allowed to book time off over that period. What? Scrooge is alive and well.

Anyway, after my ramble the point is, I am applying for as many jobs as I can - only about 2 a week though, mostly in the newspaper the jobs are either for cleaners or something highly specialsed like Hotel manager fluent in Chinese, German and Esperanto. I have applied for a couple tonight, my fingers are crossed once again, along with my toes, that I will soon get to change that little title under my picture over yonder -------> to something other than "Salesperson".

(Luckily for you I am getting hungry and Desperate Housewives is about to start, otherwise I'd waffle on all night).

Xbox Lady

Sun, 04 Sep 2005 10:42:52 GMT

Just an addition to the last post. Xbox lady rang up again and our manager told her he would send her a free hand controller. She said "Oh that's nice, and a game."

What the?! She is so greedy, she shouldn't even be getting the controller. It is sad but true that those who whinge the loudest always get a better deal than other people.

Free stuff? You can keep your cheap junk.

Fri, 02 Sep 2005 03:38:12 GMT

There has been an ongoing saga at work involving a lady and her Xbox. It all began when she brought it in to get fixed under warranty – it wouldn’t switch on. For some reason we got it back un-repaired and we were told we needed a special number from Microsoft for it to get fixed. Someone then spent 45 minutes on the phone to America and found out you don’t need that number at all. We sent it back and they told us they were going to return it un-repaired once again. The lady was getting very angry so we said we would send her a whole new one, which we didn’t have to do. Unfortunately, she had purchased the Halo bundle which is no longer available so we sent her a different bundle.

Now, she received a brand new Xbox, a free hand controller AND a free game. You’d be happy wouldn’t you? Not this lady. She rang up moaning that we had sent her a “cheapo” bundle and that she wasn’t happy. The only difference is that her old Xbox was green, not black. The bundle we sent is worth less now than she paid a year ago for her bundle but that’s because it is old now and the Halo bundle would be a lot cheaper too if you could still get it. It was pointed out to her that upon their release both bundles were worth the same amount. Instead of being happy with her free game, controller and new console, she wants goods to the value of what she originally paid. We could have made her hang around while it got fixed. Some people are just so ungrateful. Everybody really should have a mandatory 6 months stint in retail then they wouldn’t be so rude!

Spot the Difference

Mon, 29 Aug 2005 11:43:24 GMT

Can you tell the difference? If you look closely one is a weeeeee bit bigger in the hole region than the other. A lady brought 3 of these up to the counter today with no codes with them. (We need the codes to put them through the till). I had to go and get them myself, usually customers are quite helpful and go with you to show you which items they picked. Not this lady. (Let me just set the scene. There are approximately 250 tiny bins of annoying little parts like those plugs, in three tiers, each six rows deep. They all look the same, especially if you are in a hurry, as I was.) Upon my return I put them through the till and when she got her receipt she said "They're 2.1mm ones, not 2.5" and shoved the receipt at me. "Well I had to guess!" I told her. I promptly went back to the shelf and got the correct codes. Did her a refund of 20c and put them through under the other code. I hate that electronics area of the shop, it is the bane of my life. "How do I wire this up?" "What switches have you got for a ......" "Which wire is for.....". Grrr. I don't care.

A man today asked me for a BNC T adaptor, I furrowed my brow for a second thinking if we had them "Oh you've got no idea what I'm talking about have you?" he said with a scornful "You're just a girl" look. He was promptly shown his stupid BNC connector and BNC plugs and cut his stupid 50ohm cable. I must leave electronics, must.

Things could be worse!

Wed, 17 Aug 2005 05:33:22 GMT

I actually had a really great day at work today! I finished early - I had an appointment, it was laid back, no craziness and even my appraisal was fine. I got to sit drinking tea and eating chips throughout. Anyway, I got an email from my friend James under the heading "Quit complaining about your job". There's no way most people could complain after looking at a few of these photos:

Staff Appraisals and Silly Men

Mon, 15 Aug 2005 07:45:19 GMT

I have to do a personal appraisal form for work. I assess myself and then the Assistant Manager is going to assess me and we will discuss any differences. A couple of the things I have had to mark as “Development Opportunity” are: “Is enthusiastic, always stays up and has a positive mental attitude”, “Displays company loyalty, has pride in [name deleted to protect the innocent]”. I don’t think anybody who works with me would be able to honestly tick otherwise. Especially the second one, with the amount of items we sell that come back faulty. Embarrassing.

Today I had a rather bold customer, I don’t know if he does it in other shops or not. He asked about a TV and I said I would go and get him one. Instead he came into the stock room, clearly marked “Staff only” and had a look at it there. Then, later today he came back and said he would like one of the TVs. He then walked into the stock room picked one up and walked out. What the?! Does he go to the supermarket and say, “I’d like some gravy mix, oh none on the shelf? I’ll just pop into the store room and grab a packet.”? Weirdo.

Another customer, and I hate this so much, said that I didn’t know how to do something because I was a girl. Incredible Hulk rage welled inside me. He wanted to give him trade price for stuff, even though he didn’t have a trade card. “That guy always does it for me.” He then mentioned that I didn’t know how probably because I am a girl. “It’s NOT because I’m a girl” I informed him between clenched teeth. He carried on being a dick but my mind was tuned out lest I turned green and my clothes fell off. I did know how to do it, I can’t just go willy-nilly giving trade price to everyone, we’d make very little money. Don't even get me started on the Xbox rep who came in a re-arranged my pride and joy - the games display.

More on customers.

Mon, 01 Aug 2005 08:00:40 GMT

Had another fun customer today. I was a bit rude to her, smack my hand, but I was not in the mood. She got all angry because I wouldn't accept a cheque without any ID. This is standard policy in ANY shop. She stormed out saying she would buy her things elsewhere then. She later rang me up and said "I've got a business card will that do?" "No, I'm sorry but it needs to be a drivers license, passport or something with you name embossed on it, like a bank card." "Well I don't have any with me!" "I'm afraid it's company policy." "Then I won't be dealing with you anymore as a company!" "OK BYE!!" With that I slammed the phone down. Then later a workmate pointed at the security monitor and asked "Is that the lady that was in before?" And it was, how I laughed to see such fun (and the dish ran away with the spoon). She'd come crawling back when she realised that nobody else would take her cheque either. Tee Hee.

Now, just to show you that I'm not a bitter old beast, here is what my friend Miss Raft has to say about weird customers she gets:

"We have one lady who rings us up at Civic Video and talks to us like we're great friend, she asks heaps of
personal questions, I don't think she's right in the head. Then there's another lady who rings up late at night and asks if we have any adult movies, then asks if I can choose one for her, then she tells me I sound
nice and asks how old I am. Of course there's always the dirty old men who try and pick you up. One told me about his time on periodic detention and how his ex now has a restraining order out against him. He bought 2 tickets to the Tadpole concert and tried to get me to go with him! He's creepy, he does the I'm watching you thing pointing to his eyes like in Meet the Parents!"

See, I'm not the only one, who wishes that some customers would just vanish.

Grrr, baby, very grrr (and not in a good way)

Thu, 21 Jul 2005 03:49:07 GMT

(Allow me to vent for a moment, See also Customer Suck, for other's thoughts.)

It astounds me how lazy people are. If I want to buy something I go to a shop, if they don't have it I nip round to another shop, no big deal. For example, I wanted a copy of Little Britain on DVD. I went into town and had a look until I found it, it's part of shopping. I didn't ring round all the shops and, finding one that had a copy, ask them to put it aside for a week with my name on it. We get people doing this ALL THE TIME. It is very annoying. We may have only one silver mini Ipod in stock and you go to fetch it for your customer but find it on the hold shelf for Mr Smith, being held until tomorrow. Your customer cannot be placated with the green Ipod, oh no, it must be silver. Therefore they go elsewhere, having wasted 15 minutes of your life.

We got someone who rang up yesterday and made the salesperson get out a ruler and give them the exact dimemsions of a battery holder. The same salesperson got stuck on the phone while another customer inquired all about Xbox's and which games we had suitable for younger children. Then particular games "What about SSX3?" All this time I was waiting to call head office so I could finish processing an order for a customer who was in store.

People also ring up with questions like "Whats' the difference between plasma and LCD?" "What's the difference between Ipod and IRiver?" Look it up on the internet for goodness sake. Also, why do people expect us to have encyclopedic knowledge of every electronic device in the world?

Customers also think we are there to set up things for them. "Oh could I bring my DVD player in and have you show me how to set it up?" No, read the manual. "I'm trying to set up my Internet connection can you tell me over the phone how to do that?" No, ring your ISP. I had some people who made me set up their universal remote, there was no point though as you had to be in front of the TV and there were 10 possible codes to try.

I have applied for two jobs this week and hopefully there will be more in the paper on Saturday. I don't think I could go on living if I have to work there over Christmas. Plus, my Saturday, 8.30am, training sessions are starting again soon. It's ok, I don't have anything to do on Friday night anyway.

(Ahhhhhh, feel the relief, venting complete).

I Reek.

Wed, 06 Jul 2005 23:52:17 GMT

What is it that turns people into extremely rude creatures in the face of shop workers? Why do they lose all manners and think they can be rude to complete strangers?

I served a customer the other day and everything was fine until he was just about to leave. He leaned in and said: "Just on a personal note..."

"Yes?"

"Give up smoking it's a terrible perfume."

"I don't smoke!"

"Well have you been around someone that does?"

"No!"

"Well I can smell it on you."

And with that he frolicked out of the door leaving me paranoid that I was emitting foul odours. He was obviously sniffing someone in the que when we walked past them or smelling smoke from someone outside. I know it's not that big a deal but if I said to a customer something that, when boiled down, meant "You offend my nostrils" they would have laid a complaint with the manager for my rudeness.

People think they can treat shop workers like crap. There was one lady on the very same day who, after closing, was lingering in the shop asking questions which when she was given an answer replied "I KNOW!" She eventually stormed out of the shop declaring she would go somewhere where the people were actually helpful. Seemingly she has been banned from other stores and even caused one shop assistant to have a heart attack! I looooooove people.

Death of a Sales(wo)man

Fri, 17 Jun 2005 05:06:12 GMT

Salesperson was not even on my top ten job list growing up but it is now what I do. I wanted to be something cool like Johnny Depp's wife or a writer or a movie director; not peddling crappy (yes, (smack my hand if the company finds out) - CRAPPY) electronic items to people that cannot afford them. I know all of the techniques such as demonstrating the product and letting the customer touch it so that they develop a relationship with it, ask would they like batteries with that etc etc. It is not a job I am very proud of, plus I can totally relate to everybody that has posted on Customers Suck.

I went to University, don't get me wrong, I have tried to avoid working in a shop for the rest of my life. English really isn't all that useful a degree though unless you happen to be foreign and then you are therefore very clever and not taking an easy degree where you just read books. Besides I enjoy not having a weekend and working public holidays. The hunt is on for my dream job - 20 hours a week, huge pay, 10am start.