Confessions from Your Friendly Shopgirl

Jun 06

Customer: I'm looking for size eight jeans.
Me: We have size eight jeans here.
Customer: Which ones are on sale?
Me: Oh those in the back on the rounder. I can show you them.
Customer: I'm looking for the ones that were here before. (she points at the wall where shorts are now located).
Me: Do you remember what style they were?
Customer: No. They were blue.
Me: ... I'm sorry. I wasn't here for the last floorset so I'm not sure which jeans were here.
Customer: (snatches up a pair from the folded jean wall) These are long.
Me: Yes ma'am, they're our long jeans.
Customer: I want an eight regular.
Me: I'll look for one.
Customer: How much are they?
The price is quite literally on her eye level. She doesn't even have to pull out the tag to see the price.
Me: $29.50
Customer: Are there any cheaper ones?
Me: Yes ma'am, the ones on the rounder in the back.
Customer: The ones on sale?
Me: Yes ma'am.
Customer sees a pair of light blue jeans.
Customer: I want these! Eight regular. How much are they?
Again, price is on her eye level.
Me: $19.50
Customer: I want to try these on.
I lead her to the fitting room. As I go to open a room, she leaves and goes to the back rounder. I go back to the front of the store.
After a few minutes, I head back there with my arms full of dresses.
Customer: There are no eights back here.
She has six pairs of jeans in her arms. Four of them were clearly picked up from back there.
Me: I'm sorry, ma'am. People have been trying things on all day and may have put them back in the wrong spot.
Customer: I want a fitting room.
I let her in to a fitting room and go back to folding clothes in the front of the store. After five minutes, I see her walk out and search for me. She holds up the light blue jeans.
Customer: How much are these?
Me: $19.50
Customer: These are the only ones I want.
She shoves the five other pairs of jeans in to my arms. None of them are on their original hangers and they poke in to my arms. Some of them are inside out and all of them are crumpled out. I go to the registers, where we have a spot to fold and fix clothes before putting them back.
The customer clears her throat loudly as she sees me at a register and stares at me. There are two other girls on the registers beside me, ringing. I'm folding clothes.
Me: I'm not on register.
The customer rolls her eyes and waits.
Her total is $21. She shoves it in to the girl's hand and walks out without another word.
The pile of jeans she tried on is in front of me and I fold them quietly.
You're welcome.

Jun 02

What I imagine goes on in the head of my beloved size 12 customer after trying on pants.
Customer: Hm.. these pants seem to be too small.
Customer: Where can I put them?
Customer: Oh look! Here's a huge pile of size 2s. There's a 2 in 12.
Customer: That must be where they should go!
Customer: Let me just fold my eight pairs of size 12s haphazardly and shove them in with the 2s.
Customer: Oh my God, that sales associate is smoking hot. Maybe he'll think I'm a 2 since I'm putting my jeans with them?
Customer: He totally thinks I'm a 2.
Me, in an attempt to save myself extra work: Here, let me help you put those back.
Customer: No. I've got it.
Me: No really, it's no problem.
Customer: It's fine.
Customer proceeds to throw the jeans onto the wall and leave.
Hot Coworker: She's not a 2.

Manager: When you get a chance, go check out fitting room 3.
Me: Oh my God.
Manager: Is that what I think it is?
Me: Yeah. That’s poop.
Manager: From where?
Me: It wasn't there when I let someone in earlier.
Manager: You don't think...
Me: I love our customers sometimes.