Yesterday we had this crazy old lady in a wheelchair and the WEIRDEST looking feet (she didn’t wear shoes) come into our store. She has come before and has done some weird shit. Last time she was here, she took a cup and ate from every one of the soup pots.
Her visit yesterday, she was there for hours before she decided she needed to use the restroom. Of course, she goes to the customer service desk and asks for assistance to the ladies room. She doesn’t want to be pushed there, no no no. The girl at the desk could have done that. She calls up one of the supervisors who is relatively new at his job (he’s been here 3 years but newly promoted) and he says for her to get one of the girls.
There’s me and Anna (all names changed). I was already busy with the trash so I don’t understand WHY they had to naggingly page me. Finally, one of the girls in floral comes to me and says I NEED to be at the customer service desk.
So I go and was told of the scenario. The lady needs help INSIDE the fucking restroom. I find it absurd. I tell Emily at the desk that I was already busy and the trash to the little restaurant in our store usually needs to be done with urgency. The lady yells, “So you’re going to let me wet my diaper?!”
I tell Emily that Anna is here, too. I march up to Jonny (supervisor) and ask him “what the hell?” and we figure out for Anna to finish my trash. I unfortunately get voted into helping this crazy old lady.
So I go and push her in and we go inside. I don’t want to go into the details because it’s embarrassing and I don’t want to remember but I was rescued by one of my fellow cashiers, Rebecca, telling me to get out.
Apparently, it REALLY ISN’T OUR JOB to assist customers in that sort of situation. I felt really stupid and went to my managers and told them what happened, feeling traumatized. They said that is supposed to be the responsibility of the customer, the home she lives in (she mentioned she lives in a home), or her family members, not a supermarket.
If this lady is really so dependent, then WHY is she out and about? If she pays so much money to this home, then why don’t they send out a fucking nurse?
I go upstairs to calm down and then go to lunch for an hour. When Rebecca comes up on break, she buys me a hot chocolate from Starbucks. She’s still here an hour later, blocking the door and telling customers that we wouldn’t call dial-a-ride for her.
This is grounds for me to quit but unfortunately, I need this fucking job. I really have to start looking for something better, though. I can’t be doing this anymore. I’m already a punching bag for the customers and they already think we’re a bank. We also get people treating our store like it’s their house. We don’t need them treating us like a retirement home.
I’m trying to take my mind off this situation but it’s hard. Thankfully I’m off today and tomorrow.