As loyal readers may know, I now spend my days working in the retail business – specifically – in the home improvement retail business, grinding out shifts at one of those big-box stores (the blue one, not the orange one).

After finishing out the summer season (affectionately known as the “100 days of hell”) in the Inside Seasonal/Outdoor Power Equipment department, I took a chance at some better hours and less customer interaction by applying to work on the Receiving Dock.  Sure, it was going to be much more physically demanding (unloading trucks and moving around stock in the back areas all day – read that as lugging washers, refrigerators, lumber, and carpet around all over God’s little green acre), but I’d be away from the customers, who were, quite frankly, getting on my last nerve with their demanding attitudes and idiotic questions.

So I applied, interviewed, and was offered a job as a Receiver when I was pulled aside and asked if I’d like to become the “Return to Manufacturer” (RTM) Clerk in the back (instead of working the freight dock).

“What does the RTM do?” came my reply.

“Well, you try to get credit for all of the returns we get back into the store,” said an assistant store manager.  “It’s the same hours (Monday through Friday, 7:00AM – 4:00PM) – plus – it’s a promotion.

I hadn’t even set foot in the back and I was being promoted already.  Things were looking up.

“Can I ask – why me?” I inquired.

“Tell him he’s not a potato!” came the shout from the RTM cage in the back.  The outgoing RTM Clerk had heard our conversation, and feeling that now was the time to chime in, was quite blunt about my qualifications.

“We’ve had some staffing challenges with our interviewees,” said the assistant store manager, who was much more diplomatic.

“I’ll say,” said the current RTM Clerk.  “All f%&#king potatoes – every last one of them.  At least you’re not an idiot.”

The man did not mince words.

So, I am now the RTM Clerk for our store.  I have an office in the back (actually, a cage – which seems appropriate), my own set of store keys, and I’m pretty much left alone to do my duties, which are actually quite numerous and extensive.

In addition to processing all of the returns, I’m also in charge of all HAZMAT disposal, I send out appliances and equipment for repair, deal with vendor inspections of product, and also help out where I can on the back docks – as we are extremely short-handed, staffing wise (it seems we suddenly lost our newly hired Receiver to another position and have yet to back-fill the vacancy – I’m sure there’s a story there somewhere).

As with any new job, there seems to be a million things to learn and remember, but I’m slowly getting the hang of it.

I must say; however, that even though I no longer deal directly with customers, I loathe them now more than ever.

The reason?

The waste, ridiculous excuses for returns, and downright lying that goes on with customers who bring things back to the store in the attempt to get a refund.

Think we aren’t a throw-away society?  Spend a day with me in the cage and it will make you sick to your stomach.  Understand that once I get credit from the manufacturer for a product, said manufacturer usually insists that the credited item be “destroyed in the field”.  That’s retail-speak for “throw it away”.  This is done for obvious reasons, as the manufacturers wouldn’t make any money at all if every time a screwdriver got returned and credited, it suddenly showed up in someone’s garage.

So I throw 90% of everything I get back every day into the giant trash compactor out back and crush it.

Pack of six lightbulbs and one is broken?  Chuck the other five in the dumpster, chief.

Wood trim with a slight bow in it?  Break it in half and toss it.

Space heater with a dent in it?  Adios, El Fuego.

I bet I’ll throw away enough in a year to build three houses, from the concrete blocks to the bathroom fixtures.

Sure, some of it I can donate (when possible) to organizations like Habitat for Humanity (who are grateful for anything they can get), but most everything else?  It’ll soon be decorating the living room of “Oscar the Grouch” or adding another two feet in height to the local landfill.

Secondly, people come up with the most outlandish excuses and lies for returns that you’ve ever heard of in your life.  The return reason is usually included on my paperwork, and there are some real doozies written on there.

“Wasn’t the color I wanted” – on a can of paint.  Uh, didn’t you pick it out?  And if you didn’t like it, why are you returning the can with almost nothing in it?  It left here with ten gallons and you’re returning one.

“Didn’t work” read one tag.  It was a hat.  No, I’m not kidding.

“Wasn’t what I expected”.  This is common language on items like grass-covered mowers, chainsaws that look like they’ve been used to cut down a Giant Sequoia, and snow-blowers that are still dripping with slush and road salt as people wheel them in – straight faced – to the return desk to ask for their money back.

Legend has it that one year an entire kitchen full of appliances was returned after the new year – the stove still smelling of burnt turkey and the fridge oozing with spills from holiday leftovers.  That takes some stones, people.

So remember, the next time you bring something back to the store for a refund, take it from someone who now has to deal with your shenanigans on a regular basis – have a good reason.

Either way, I’ll be muttering about you under my breath as I throw your returned toilet seat into the compactor.