Not Always Right on Facebook Not Always Right on Twitter Not Always Right Unfiltered on Tumblr
Featured Story:
  • God Loves Little Girls Who Stand Up For Others
    (2,675 thumbs up)
  • October Theme Of The Month: Coupon Complications!
    Submit your story today!

    Category: Liars & Scammers

    Ever come across a customer that has made you want to call the police? These ones pretty much ensure it. It goes way beyond the realms of shoplifting or threatening behavior. Some of these customers are too stupid even for those…

    Needs To Clean Up Her Act

    | AK, USA | Bad Behavior, Family & Kids, Liars & Scammers, Top

    (A girl of about 12 starts to examine a table of pajamas that I had just folded a few minutes ago. At first I’m afraid that she’ll make a mess of everything but she does her best at folding the stuff that she unfolded. Soon her friend comes and looks at the pajamas. However, unlike the other girl, she doesn’t fold the stuff again and just throws the stuff she looks at back on the table.)

    Girl #1: “I, um, think the employees would like it if you folded the stuff instead of, um, setting it back unfolded.”

    Girl #2: “It’s their job. They get paid to do it so it’s not my problem.”

    Girl #1: *nervously* “Oh, er, but—”

    Girl #2: “Drop it! It’s their job. They should be thankful I’m leaving these unfolded! It gives them a job so they can earn money!”

    ([Girl #2] proceeds to take a stack of pajamas and throw them onto the table, causing many to fall. I’m about to interject when [Girl #1] speaks.)

    Girl #1: “So? Let’s say you have to clean the living room everyday, and your parents pay you for it.”

    Girl #2: “But—”

    Girl #1: “Shut up and listen! Let’s say you got it SPOTLESS and perfectly clean. And then your brother and his friend play video games for hours in there, spilling their snacks and leaving empty soda cans and wrappers everywhere. You don’t get paid extra to clean up that mess! And it would make you upset that you have to redo all that work! That’s what the employees probably feel like!”

    Girl #2: “Whatever, b****.”

    ([Girl #2] leaves. [Girl #1] one proceeds to start cleaning up the mess.)

    Me: “Don’t worry. I’ve got it. Thanks, though.”

    Girl #1: “Sorry about her. She’s a jerk.”

    Me: “It’s not a problem. I’ve had to pick up messes that are worse than this many times before.”

    (Later, I see [Girl #2] talking to her dad.)

    Girl #2: “And then she called me a b**** and walked off.”

    Dad: “Really? That’s odd for her behavior. I should have known better than to let you guys shop alone.”

    (Just then [Girl #1] walks up.)

    Girl #1: “My mom will be here to pick me up, so you don’t need to give me a ride home Mr. [Last Name].”

    Dad: “Is it true you called [Girl #2] a rude name?”

    Girl #1: “What? No!”

    Girl #2: *in fake tears* “Yeah. She, she yelled yelled at me, and called me rude names besides b****!”

    Dad: “Stop saying that. Now, [Girl #1], I’m telling your mom and we’ll discuss this later.”

    Girl #1: “But, I didn’t…”

    ([Girl #2] is smirking at [Girl #1] between her fake sobs. I step in.)

    Me: “Sir, I actually witnessed the event.”

    (As I explain the event to the dad, [Girl #1], who is on the verge of tears because of how upset she is, starts to feel better now that she has someone backing her up. [Girl #2] stops faking her tears and stops smirking.)

    Dad: “Thanks.” *turns to [Girl #1]* “I’m terribly sorry.” *turns to [Girl #2]* “What’s gotten into you? You’re in deep trouble now!”

    (I had to go, but I was happy to know that the younger girl didn’t get in trouble!)

    Six Red Flags

    | TX, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal, Liars & Scammers

    (Two customers come to my register with two baskets overflowing with groceries. They’re accompanied by four children between the ages of 4 and 11. The carts are loaded to overflowing with baby food and formula, diapers, expensive meats, cheese, beer, wine, sodas, and lots of frozen meals. They are extremely friendly and lay on the endearments quite heavily.)

    Me: “So, did you find everything okay tonight, folks?”

    Customer #1: “Oh, honey! Bless you! You bet we did, baby!”

    Customer #2: “Woooo! More than everything! Look at these steaks! These are gonna be great!”

    (The customers and their eldest two children load the first cart onto the belt. They take it, empty, to the end of my register to bag and load their groceries, since I don’t have a bagger. After several minutes, I finish ringing them up.)

    Me: “Okay. Your total comes to [large, triple digit sum]. How would you like to pay that today?”

    Customer #1: “By check. Let me write it up for you, honey.”

    (As the first customer writes the check, the rest of the group finishes packing the groceries. She finishes writing the check and hands it to me.)

    Me: “Okay, great. Can I see your ID to confirm a few details?”

    Customer #1: “Sure, honey. Sure.”

    (She opens her wallet and flips to the clear ID panel. The driver’s license inside looks really wrong.)

    Me: “Sorry. Do you mind if I remove the ID from the plastic to see it better?”

    Customer #1: “No, baby! Go ahead, sweetie! Help yourself!”

    Me: “Okay. Ah. Do you have another form of identification, ma’am?”

    Customer #1: “What’d you say, honey?”

    Me: “Another form of ID? A driver’s license or something?”

    Customer #1: “Honey, that IS my driver’s license.”

    Me: “Actually, no, ma’am. It’s a Six Flags ID. See? The back here says ‘not government issued ID’ and the ‘Texas’ holograms are just gold puff paint.”

    Customer #1: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That right there IS my real ID, baby!”

    Me: “And your check has a few routing numbers scratched out—”

    (The customer suddenly snatches the check and ID out of my hands. The whole group bolts for the exit as I call for a manager. He commends me on catching them out and gets staff to put the items in the freezer for the time being. A few minutes later, I get a phone call on my register.)

    Me: “Hello. This is [Store Name], register 12. [My Name] speaking. How may I help you?”

    Cashier: “Hey, [My Name]. Can you get me [Assistant Manager]? I’ve got someone trying to pass a bogus check on gas and soda out here.”

    Me: “Does she have [Name] tattooed across her chest in a script font?”

    Cashier: “That’s her.”

    Me: “Stall her. Tell her the check’s jammed in the machine or something. I’m sending him out.”

    (I call the same assistant manager as before. The acting unit manager, loss prevention member, and the assistant manager book it out the door to the parking lot. By the time they arrive, the customer and her group had made a run for it, leaving the stolen check and fake ID behind. Police are called. We are questioned, and then told that the woman has no fewer than three warrants out for her arrest.)

    Send You Off The Rails

    | Nashville, TN, USA | Home Improvement, Liars & Scammers

    (I am self-employed in the real estate appraisal business. I have made an FHA appraisal of a home that needs some minor repair. Once the repairs have been made, it will be necessary for me to re-inspect the home to make sure that the repairs have been satisfactorily completed. In this case, I have required that railings be installed around the front porch and stairway because they are several feet above the walkway. Shortly after submitting the appraisal and repair list, I received a call from the seller’s realtor.)

    Realtor: “I want to talk to you about the repairs you required. Why do we have to put up stair and porch railings?”

    Me: “It’s an FHA requirement. When a home sells with FHA financing, it has to meet minimum safety standards set by FHA.”

    Realtor: “Well, I don’t see why they’re necessary. The house already has an FHA loan. Why weren’t the railings required when my client bought the house?”

    Me: “I don’t know. Maybe the other appraiser wasn’t paying attention.”

    Realtor: “Why can’t you just look the other way?”

    Me: “I’m sorry. That’s not the way I do business.”

    Realtor: “We’re not going to put up the railings. And that’s that.”

    Me: “I understand your frustration, but it seems to be a shame that you’re going to allow this sale to be killed over a few hundred dollars.”

    Realtor: *long pause* “Okay, but you can’t charge for the repair inspection.”

    Me: “What do you mean?”

    Realtor: “I mean if we’re going to pay for a repair that’s clearly not necessary, then the least you can do is waive your fee for the repair inspection.”

    Me: “Let me call you right back. I’ll have to talk to my supervisor about this. I don’t know what he’ll say.”

    Realtor: “Okay. That will be fine.”

    (The realtor doesn’t know that I’m self employed. I wait ten minutes and call the realtor back.)

    Realtor: “Hello?”

    Me: “Hello. I just spoke to my supervisor and he got mad as h***. I argued on your behalf and he finally agreed to a 50 percent discount on the fee. This is the best I can do. He’s really upset with me.”

    Realtor: “A 50 percent discount? Okay. That will be fine.”

    (The realtor and seller were good to their word and quickly had the railings installed. On the invoice to the mortgage company, I charged full fee, but wrote in blue ink, ‘This fee represents a 50 per cent discount.’ I later did several more appraisals for that realtor. He thought he had gotten the best of me!)

    Getting All Hancocked Over A Benjamin, Part 2

    | Las Vegas, NV, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal, Liars & Scammers, Money

    (I am a manager working the concession stand at a theater attached to a hotel/casino.)

    Cashier: *over radio* “Manager to register two.”

    (I head over. The cashier has a customer at her station who looks angry.)

    Me: “What can I do for you?”

    Customer: “Yeah, this b**** stole my money! I paid with a hundred and she only gave me change for a fifty! I want my f****** money back!”

    Me: “Alright. Did you see what she did with the bill?”

    Customer: “Yeah! She put it below the counter!”

    (We are only allowed to keep bills $10 and smaller in the till itself. All larger bills go into a lockbox right below the cash register. I walk behind the desk and point to the lockbox.)

    Me: “She put it in here?”

    Customer: “Yeah! Now give me the rest of my money!”

    (I unlock the lockbox and remove it from its position, placing it on the counter in front of the customer. I then open it to reveal three $20 bills, and one $50 bill, which is the last bill deposited.)

    Me: “Well, sir, it looks like the last bill deposited was a fifty. Is it possible you simply forgot which bill you paid with?”

    (At this point, I know he’s lying. The cashier is one of my best employees, and the evidence is stacked against him.)

    Customer: “NO! I PAID WITH A F****** HUNDRED! I WANT MY F****** MONEY!”

    Me: “Alright, sir. If you’re that adamant, I’ll call the casino’s security.”

    Customer: “Good!”

    Me: “I just don’t like calling them. They’re so harsh about fraud. I mean, they drag people into the back room just for TRYING…”

    (The color drains out of the customer’s face.)

    Customer: “That… that’s a myth…”

    Me: “I wish it were, sir. I wish it were. Let call them.”

    (I pull my radio up, but he stops me.)

    Customer: “You know what; it’s not worth the hassle.” *to the cashier* “Enjoy the tip, b****.”

    (The customer storms off as fast as he can towards his theater.)

    Related:
    Getting All Hancocked Over A Benjamin

    Should Have Vetted The Owners First

    | Newport Beach, CA, USA | Liars & Scammers, Pets & Animals

    (I’ve just graduated and I can’t find a job. My older brother is a veterinarian, and gets me a temp job at the animal clinic where he works. On my sixth day, when my brother has the day off, a client walks in with her dog. She cuts about eight people to the front.)

    Client: “My dog is sick! I need to see the doctor!”

    Me: “Okay. Do you have an appointment?”

    Client: “H***, no! I thought walk-ins were welcomed.”

    Me: “Yes. They are. Is this your first time here, or is your dog already in our system?”

    Client: “Of course I’ve been here! You must be stupid because this is, like, my 100th time here. My name is [Name] and my dog is Puddles.”

    Me: “And what seems to be the problem with Puddles?”

    Client: “I just told you! Don’t you f****** listen? He is f****** sick!”

    (By now everyone in the waiting room is looking at us. Feeling a bit embarrassed at being cussed at, I don’t ask her anymore questions. I hand her a form.)

    Me: “Alright. Just fill out this form and a doctor will be with you in about 20 to 30 minutes.”

    Client: “What! Why can’t I see the doctor now?! My dog sick and he is going to die!”

    (I look at the dog. He is wagging his tail and eating the free doggy treats we have out.)

    Me: “I’m sorry. Since you don’t have an appointment, you’ll have to wait. We have about eight other walk-ins still waiting with their pets.”

    Client: “Is Dr. [Brother's Name] here? He’s the guy I always see. Just tell him I’m here.”

    Me: “Uh, no. That particular doctor has the day off. You’ll have to wait for Dr. [Name]. She’s the only doctor in today.”

    Client: “What?! I’m not going to wait in this f****** line! My dog is going to die and if he does I’m going to sue you for everything you got.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to wait like everyone else.”

    Client: “Don’t you know who I am?”

    Me: “Yes. You are [Name] and that is Puddles.”

    Client: “You little b****! I am Dr. [Brother's Name]‘s girlfriend, which makes me like family. I get to see the doctor first, before any of these people.”

    (I kind of giggle inside, because my brother is gay. He took the day off for his sixth year anniversary with his boyfriend.)

    Me: “Oh. Are you a girl that is his friend or his romantic girlfriend?”

    Client: “I’m his romantic girlfriend.”

    Me: “Oh… But you’re still going to have to wait.”

    Client: “Are you deaf or something? I told you I’m Dr. [Brother's Name]‘s girlfriend. You have to do what I say or I can have him fire you! You’re just jealous that I’m dating him and you’re too ugly for him to look at.”

    Me: “Okay. First, Dr. [Brother's Name] is my brother, so I don’t find him attractive in that sense at all. Second, my brother is GAY! He came out in college. So if you don’t have a wiener dog down there, I don’t think my brother would be very interested in you!”

    Client: “You little c***! I’m his girlfriend and I’m going to tell him to fire you!”

    Me: “If you’re his girlfriend, when is his birthday?”

    Client: “I don’t have to tell you! You’re probably in love with him, you w****!”

    (By now everyone is listening in on our conversation. There is a man in the walk-in line with a German Shepard. He comes up to the woman and tells her to back off and wait in line like everyone else.)

    Client: “Who the h*** are you? You can’t tell me what to do? Who the f*** do you think you are?”

    Man: “I am a sheriff’s deputy, ma’am. You’ve been harassing this woman for the past 10 minutes. She can file harassment charges on you and I will be her witness.”

    Client: “F*** you all. I’m never coming back here ever again!”

    (She came back the next day. My brother told her he will not be Puddles’ doctor anymore, and that, in fact, he is gay and not her boyfriend.)

    Page 9/55First...7891011...Last