I hate my job sometimes

So I was working the night shift the other night...3-9pm. for some reason i hate working that shift. it always seems longer than the 9-3p shift, even though it's not. maybe i like seeing daylight when i leave. i live in one of the northern states and we get sunshine for maybe only a good two months out of the year.

anyways, it's closing time, i've already counted off my register,and am generally hanging around and annoying my co-workers til the manager tells me to clock out (yeah we can't clock out AFTER NINE when the store closes til they tell us to...).

well, this woman (mid thirties, maybe? heavyset, definitely not a real blonde), and her friend come up to customer service, complaining about how they were charged extra on their purchase. lue (name changed), being the awesome CSR she is, looks at the receipt, and listens patiently to this woman as she complains about being over charged TEN FUCKING CENTS. that's right, ten cents.

well apparently, how our computers add is this:

when we have a sticker for something (like her 10 felt pieces) for 24 cents, what the customer doesn't see is the taxed numbers after that. it works out to something like, 24.345 cents or something. now usually, the computer rounds to the next closest number (in her case, 25 cents) ONLY if you do a 'quantity'.

quantity, for those of you not being cashiers, is a handy device they make so you don't have to consecutively scan ten dowel rods, twenty felt pieces, fifteen frames, etc. you count the items, hit a button, type in the number, and then scan. voila!

well this woman, thinking we cheated her out of her ten fucking cents, proceeded to bitch and whine at our manager (which, being new, i've actually warmed up to), for fifteen minutes. all while lue is trying to figure out if her comp will let her give back ten cents.

now me being me, i was more than willing to give her the dime out of my pocket, but really, i was tired and went and clocked out (without permission, but by this point, manager didn't care), and came back up. by this time, the woman was gone.

'holy shit, really?!?!?! FOR TEN CENTS?!?!?!' i said.

'i can go beat her ass out in the parking lot for you', i said to manager.

'well, first off, you're still wearing your store shirt, and second off, no.' said manager.

'i can take my shirt off and be some crazy no-shirt bra-wearin' lady that just happens to have a dime she feels the need to shove up someone's ass.'

'no, that's ok. but i bet we'll get a call to corporate about our 'adding up' policy.'

'f that. i'm not ringing everything up individually, i already hate being on register.'

she shrugs, and tells me to go home.

i hope that woman gets karmic payback. ten fucking cents. wtf is wrong with you.