Annoying customers

Had a bizarre image of you throwing glitter in water before realising what he meant.

Thank you for making me giggle today XD

Glitter lol, I should have and then see what he said!

Some customers just don't realise that most staff HATE having to ask them for ID if they look under 25.

Anyways, I had a fairly "complex" (not really complex though)decision to make yesterday evening. A woman who was in her 40's maybe, wanted to buy some beer. However she was with her son who looked under 18, let alone 25!. Anyways I had to ask her son for I.D because she had said to him "put your stuff down on the counter so he can scan it" That "stuff" was the beer. Of
course a fuss ensued because she started trying to claim it was for her. Thankfully my supervisor made her go on her way (without the rest of her shopping as well!).


Found out after I had indeed made the correct decision. My supervisor had overheard the woman asking the son which beer he wanted and saw him pick it out. As far as I'm concerned, if I suspect in any way that that alcohol is going to someone who I believe to look under 25 and have no I.D. to tell me that they are at least 18, I will not be letting you buy alcohol if I serve you.

I'm not always that stingy on alcohol sales though. It's just I heard things that led me to suspect it was for the son. We're told to approach things like parents and their children with common sense.

Customers who moan that xx shop is cheaper than the this shop while you're serving them..

Asking for ID around parents is the worst, at work I always get 'They're my son/daughter I know they are 18' well thats nice and everything but I don't.

I totally agree with thing and I'd do the same, but once it was taken to the extreme with me and my mum. Keep in mind this was at some point last year so I was 18. Went to the supermarket with my mum, no makeup or anything and baggy clothes (fit, I know). Anyway my mum got some shopping with a bottle of wine, for her and my dad. No questions asked. While we're at the till I look over and see the lottery stand and I decide I want to buy a lottery ticket as the jackpot was quite big. So we finish at the check out (keep in mind no questions were asked about my mum and the alcohol), and go to the lottery counter. When I get there, I get asked for my ID. My license was away as I'd changed addresses, so I didn't have any. Now I know I look rubbish with no makeup on, but there's no way I look 15. My mum said "Um... I can guarantee you she's not only over 15, but she's 18 years old". So the woman comes back with "I need ID, you need to be 18 to play the lottery." Erm....... No, no you don't. I replied with "No, you need to be 16". Follow argument about the age limit for the lottery, and... even though there was that sign on the ticket part with 15 and a cross through it, the woman still insisted you needed to be 18, and since I didn't have any proof of age, I couldn't buy a ticket.

After that ridiculous-ness, my mum (who is in her mid 50s) goes "fine, I want to buy a ticket". So the woman proceeds to tell her that she can't buy one either as she could give it to me, and there's no proof that I'm over 18 (still insistant that was the age limit...). I replied that even if was for me and I was 15 I couldn't claim any prize money so it wouldn't matter.

Ended up her refusing service for a LOTTERY TICKET to me and my mum. Common sense = out the window. I understand totally with alcohol and suspscion of it being sold to a minor.. but this woman was not only refusing a lottery ticket to me (debately acceptable) because she wasn't sure I was over 18 (wrong age), but to my mother, a woman who is clearly, clearly over 18.

Anyway, sorry for the rant.. meant to be annoying customers, but this was an annoying shop people rant that really pissed me off :/

Asking for ID around parents is the worst, at work I always get 'They're my son/daughter I know they are 18' well thats nice and everything but I don't.

No ID, No Sale.

Though yes she was taking it a bit TOO far, just ask for a manager next time. And if they say no too, just go to another store...sometimes you can't win.

I understand the principle, and I see where she was coming from.. It just annoyed me that she was wrong about the age, and then went on to refuse sale to a 50 year old woman. Again, I'd understand her refusing it to my mum if it was alcohol, but it was a lottery ticket.. If I had been 15 and my mum had bought it for me then I couldn't have done anything with it anyway.

I don't know, it's a tough one. Can see her point of view but it was wayyy OTT imo.

snipped

The Grand National is coming soon!!!



All in all, this is gonna be one hell of a day!! I can't wait

The Grand National is coming soon!!!

It is going to be one of the most hectic days of my life working in a bookmakers....

football:
-

national:



All in all, this is gonna be one hell of a day!! I can't wait

Sounds hectic, good luck!

Im working on a bar at Aintree for the Grand National, I have no previous experience which doesnt help but at the training day they kept mentioning how important it is to check for forged notes and watch out for 'walk-outs'! I'm guessing its going to be the most stressful few days of my life

7.30 - You get there early knowing you're in for a busy one. You get your machines turned on and while you wait for the kettle to boil, you unfold your racing post and the display papers. You fratanise on how to arrange them as you need those Aintree papers as visible as possible. If you could, you'd get one of those giant flashing yellow arrows they use on motorways to direct traffic, and point it towards these papers. However you know no matter how well you place them, people will still have trouble finding them. After arranging the delicate jigsaw that is Aintree, you're left with the other meetings; you place Fontwell, Wolverhampton, Redcar, Downpatrick, Vaal, Tampa Downs and Sprintvalley over in the corner. You're not really bothered where these go or even if they're the right way up. You may as well re-carpet the floor with them. You don't care where they go and neither will 99% of anyone who walks through that door.

8.25. You're all set up and ready to go, you've got everything you could possibly need and you have a quick look and check on the anal things like if you've got enough change and if there are enough cups to make tea with for the next month.

8:30. Pricewise Steve's first through the door, you make him a cup of tea, strong, no sugar - just the way he likes it. You only see him on a Saturday, he wants his bets, he knows the limits and bets right up to them. All the while supping his brew he has a little natter about the days racing, pretending like he's been following all his life and and he'll be out your hair by 9. Regulars come in 1 by 1 like clockwork at the same times they've done for 20 years; Old man John, he's looking more and more frail but he still troopers on - nothing will stop him getting his round robins on. Tea Dave walks almost simultaneously through the door with Smelly Eddie, which must be a coincidence as they've never seen eye to eye since the whole 'stop breathing near me' incident of yesteryear. Roulette Charlie's next, gives you a smile and nod and gets on his favourite machine; Number 3 - just by the door; he likes this one as he can watch the world go by while he loses a small fortune on 0, 3, 14, 16, 26, 29.

9:00. A group of 4 young lads walk through the door, all the while carrying on the conversation they were having outside. You hear one of them say "Southampton are Premier League material mate...you just wait and see, they'll be top half by Christmas". They ponder around the football section, grabbing one of every coupon you have....each. They continue their football talk about the weekends action that lay ahead, when one of them breaks away from the group, fiddles around in his pocket and places £1.80 in the machine 1, nearest the coupons. He'll spin it away like it's nothing and carry on looking at the coupon in his hand. After 10 minutes of to-ing and fro-ing amongst themselves about who's gonna win between Reading and West Ham, one of them will gingerly walk up to the counter. He'll be eyeballing his coupon while walking like it's the most important decision he's had to face. The guy gives you a solemn "Alright mate", you reply with a similar expression. He'll place his coupon down - you have a quick look but you know before he entered the shop what it would entail - 17 teams with the £1 and the acca box crossed. You put it through you machine, take his pound coin and give him back his receipt. It pays just shy of £200,000. The guy takes a look and he's cheering and laughing like he's just won it.

10:00. There's 2 people manning the tills and you go out back to get the brews up for them. You're only gone 3 minutes, come back in and you can't believe what you see. It looks like half the town is in your shop right now. You have a curious glance over, there must be 40 people in the shop. "Where did all these come from?", you ask yourself. The regulars are getting swamped by housewives, young lads, old men, foreign restaurant owners, the bloke who runs the post office, the postman, the postman's dog, the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker. Old man John comes back from the toilet, and someone's taken his table. Nobody has ever sat at his table. There's a middle-aged woman and her daughter occupying it, curiously reading a marksence slip. Their ignorance is charming while their combined knowledge of gambling is thrust together to work out how to fill in this confusing piece of paper. John gives a disheartened grunt.

11.00. The fires are still burning strong. All the tills have been working overtime to get as many bets as people can throw at them on. You're on the shop floor helping customers place their bets and answering a modicom of questions. You're helping everyone, somewhat joyful with the atmosphere and don't mind answering for the 50th time that day what the difference between an each-way and a win bet is. There must be 15 people trying to look at the Aintree papers, it's like looking at a group of people playing twister - only they're all standing up, and the body part they're trying to fit through someones armpit is their face. You realise you've made a mistake with the Aintree papers, as this touch and feel a stranger for a day game is reaching breaking point. There's a bit of argy going on, until the polite British public start to form an orderly queue.

1.00. You must have taken well over a thousand bets, already much busier than any other day in the past year. It's died down, and there's about a dozen or so in the shop. The regulars are relaxed now as they all know more than half of the other people left in the shop. John's happy, he's got his table back. Scottish Dave walks in and he's just been paid. He bets on racing most days; he's one of the shop's best punters as he couldn't tip a wheelbarrow, never mind a winner. Real nice bloke though. I make his coffee - weak, 3 sugars and have a chat about the recent 'gers game. He has a quick look at the papers and 30 seconds later walks up with a bet. £40, trap 4, 1.04 @ hove. He asks about the Aintree papers that are taking up most of the wall, and I inform him it's the Grand National today. He gives a nod to say "I knew that". He must have been gambling 20 years but still doesn't know one end of a horse from the other.

3.00 It's getting close to race time. There's a massive influx of new and old punters scrambling through the door. It's the busiest time of the day. The tills are going manic, the staff are getting tired and sweaty however there's a real buzz of excitement in the air. Everyone's talking about their tips they've heard from Tom in the pub and Willie Carson on BBC.

4.00. 15 minutes before the off. There's a calm before the storm. There's a few people still placing bets, but I figure most have scarpered off to the pub or home. People start coming in to get a seat for the big race. There's an amazing sense of community and giving. Everyone's chatting about their horses. Old man John and a young girl who I've never seen before are chatting. There's Scottish Dave who's already done a weeks wage in, taking a time out from betting like a bat out of hell to have a laugh and a joke with a sharp suit wearing guy who I've never seen before. There's even a little jack russel and a poodle playing with each other, over by the coupons. Aside from the World cup I don't think any sporting event can bring this diverse ammount of people together, even for a short while.

4.15 And they're off....

That's pretty much the grand national in a bookies for me. Fantastic.

We're open until half 9 this year for the first time, what about you Steve?

I think it's hilarious as it'll be the first year I'm not working it. I'm going to it. You don't want to know who's dick I had to suck to get that one off.

I'll be around Liverpool CC in the day, so if you're lucky, I may see you sweating away in your bookies.



See you there.

People who can't actually describe what it is that they want - I'm not a mind reader

Today a woman asked for "chicken breasts in pastry...they're stuffed with something...no I don't remember what they were stuffed with" - turns out she wanted chicken kievs. ****ing hell.