The undergarment section wasn’t labeled correctly where a sign said nursing bras were located was actually socks. I explained what a nursing bra was as I helped her look. Woman: “Oh, thank you! Thank you! My daughter just had a baby and she asked me to get her a nursing bra. I responded to the woman while trying to wrangle my son into sitting properly in my arms as he didn’t want to sit in his car carrier. The majority of staff at this store were from her origin country, so either they had been totally North Americanized and knew little about the language of their families, or they just didn’t want to help her. Woman: “Please? Can you please help me? The store staff won’t help as I don’t speak English well.” Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t work here and don’t know where they are, but they should be in this general area.” I was confused as to why an elderly woman needed a nursing bra.
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Woman: “Can you please help me? I’m looking for a nursing bra.” I’ll paraphrase what she said to me to make the story quicker. We have a lot of different ethnic groups in my community, and due to my job, I have to interact with people who can barely speak English frequently. This woman tried to speak to me but was having some difficulties as her English wasn’t all that great. I decided to cut through the women’s clothing section aisle to bypass a few straggling shoppers taking up the main aisle when I was stopped by an elderly woman. I took my infant son with me shopping at. This happened about five years ago or so. I’m still waiting for the inevitable bad review, but management likes me, so they won’t believe whatever he comes up with that I “did” to cause this. The way he stared at me with his mouth agape, his ego crumbling, and his world absolutely falling apart as he stammered and asked where was, while I calmly smiled the whole time, was better than any gift I could have received. Me: *With the politest smile I can manage* “No, sir, this is the location.” Me: “Sir, are you sure you placed the pick-up for our location?”Ĭustomer: “Of course, I did! I come here all the time! This is, isn’t it?!” He is increasingly getting more pissed as I make sure I’ve spelled the names right, try to see if my device is malfunctioning, etc. He gives me his name and his wife’s name (two different last names) and neither shows up when I look them up.
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I decide to not match his energy it is my birthday, and dang it, I am going to be happy! I’m about as cordial and polite as possible with this hollering man, who is literally hollering for no reason, as I try to get his pick-up barcode to scan or have him get out his ID to look up his name. He slams the bag he is carrying down on the desk. I’m helping another guest with something and see one of my coworkers escorting this fifty-something-year-old man, who looks livid as h***, to the desk. It’s my birthday, and I am working the guest services desk at a department store.