I Am the Manager!

Multiple sources are reporting that a Cranston, RI woman is currently several minutes into berating a retail worker, unaware that the employee currently in front of her pointing, gesturing finger is in fact the store manager.

Julia Nygaard entered a Williams-Sonoma one evening in search of a chafing dish she’d seen online. Upon searching the store and failing to find it, she confronted a salesperson.

“I showed her the ones we sell,” says sales worker Catilina Rinadi, “and she was like ‘I don’t want those, I want the one like I saw on-line!’. Like okay, I guess I should’ve known that.”

Apparently, after trying to describe the dish for several minutes Nygaard finally showed Rinaldi the picture of the one she wanted on her phone.

“Yeah,” says Rinadli, “it wasn’t even one we sold. It was just like a Google image search result. I told her that and she like totally freaked out. She said she was going to ‘enter in a complaint’ whatever that means and I was just like ‘okay, you do that’.”

“I’m not stupid!” says Nygaard at the customer service desk, where she’s been yelling about the store’s selection and the staff’s inability to help. “I know how to use The Google, and it says it right there, see!” She thrusts her phone aggressively towards the face of the worker she’s speaking to. “It says it right there! ‘Williams-Sonoma chafing dish’! That’s the one I want!”

Francis Campbell, a store manager who just happened to be the customer service desk, is attempting to assist Nygaard.

“That’s just the search box,” says Campbell examining the phone. “You typed that in there, that’s not a representation of our range. You’d have to go to our actual website for that.”

“Aw shit,” says customer Beth Haskall who’s waiting in line to return a set of salt and pepper shakers with supposedly too-small holes. “He said she don’t even know how the internet works!”

“Well why would it come up if you don’t sell it?” says Nygaard with the look of someone who thinks they’ve just won their argument with unshakable logic.

“I don’t know,” responds Campbell. “You’d have to contact Google and ask them to explain the algorithm to you.”

“Okay, that’s it,” says Nygaard. “I want to speak to your manager, NOW!”

Campbell smiles, about to play the ultimate Uno reverse card. “Ma’am,” he says, “I am the manager.”

Beth Haskall bursts out laughing somewhere behind Nygaard in line. “Oh my god,” say shes, “she so stupid! It says ‘manager’ right on his name tag! I can see it from here and these aren’t even my good glasses!”

“You’re the manager?” asks Nygaard, who apparently needs things spelled out for her.

“Yes,” says Campbell, “I am.”

“That can’t be,” says Nygaard. “You’re much too young and handsome to be a manager.”

“Ma’am,” sighs Campbell, “is there anything else I can help you with?”

Nygaard smiles sweetly. “Well, dear, I was just hoping you can find the time to help me out with a little problem. You see, I had come in to purchase this particular chafing dish, and if you don’t have it that’s fine, sweetie, but if you could please direct me to one that’s similar enough, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“I believe you’ve already seen our selection of chafing dishes and didn’t care for them.”

“Okay,” says Nygaard, “that’s fine. I’ll go take another look and maybe find one I like. Thank you, so much. Now if you could only fire that sales girl before I go, that would be so lovely of you.”

“Unbelievable,” says Campbell rolling his eyes. “Can I help the next guest please?”