When Customers Need Toilet Training

| Sacramento, CA, USA | Family & Kids, Health & Body

(Due to homeless people coming in and sleeping in our bathrooms, our policy has changed as to where we do not have public restrooms. Many customers get angry by this, but usually move on and find somewhere else. Today, I am stocking shelves when a woman comes storming towards me)

Customer: “Tell your managers that I think it’s absolutely disgusting that you don’t let your customers use the bathroom. If I did that at my job, I’d be arrested!”

Me: “Um… excuse me?”

Customer: “You guys should be arrested! It’s horrible what you are doing. If I didn’t let my children use the bathroom, I’d be thrown in jail!”

Coworker: *having overheard the woman’s complaints* “We wouldn’t be able to do our work if we kept letting customers in. And I’ll let children in, no problem, but adults should be able to hold it until they get home!”

Customer: *storms off, muttering obscenities under her breath*

Me: “What the h*** kind of job does she have?”

No ID-ea Who Is Serving You

| Lethbridge, AB, Canada | Criminal/Illegal, Liars & Scammers, Technology

(I am 17, working in a large department store located on one end of a strip mall. I’m covering a coworker’s break in the electronics department when two men come in and proceed to round up about $1000 worth of goods, including having me take a number of gaming systems out of their locked cases.)

Me: “All right, gentlemen, your total comes to [large amount]. How will you be paying today?”

Customer #1: “Credit.”

(He proceeds to hand me a card. This is about the time that writing ‘check ID’ on the signature strip of credit cards became popular, so I instinctively look at the back of the card as I’m about to swipe it through. That’s when I notice something amiss.)

Me: “Sir, I’m afraid I’m going to need to ask for some photo ID. It appears the signature strip of your card has been tampered with.”

Customer #1: “Whattya mean?!”

Me: “Well, someone has scratched out most of the strip, so there’s no signature on the card.”

Customer #2: “Oh yeah, that was… That was his kid. F***ing brat. Can’t you just run it through anyway?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry. Without a signature I’m required by law to check for ID.”

(Customer #1 proceeds to snatch the card out of my hand, grabs a pen off the counter, and sloppily writes in the name of the cardholder. At this point, I notice the card has an ethnic-sounding name on it, and the two men are very distinctly Caucasian.)

Me: *taking the basket of items off the counter and setting it behind the desk* “I’m sorry, sir, but since I have no way to prove that you are the cardholder, I can’t allow you to purchase anything here with that card.”

(The customers continue to mumble and protest, getting more and more antsy by the minute. They finally take the card and leave, calling me a ‘b****’ on the way out. I know I can’t legally keep the card, but I immediately call our Loss Prevention Officer, who follows them outside. The police are eventually called, and they confiscate the basket of goods for fingerprinting. I go on about my evening. Later that same evening:)

Coworker: “[My Name], there’s a call for you on line one. It’s your sister.”

(This is a little strange, as my sister works in the electronics store at the other end of the strip mall, and will usually just walk down to talk to me if she needs anything.)

Me: “Hello?”

Sister: “Hey, did you happen to get some a**holes trying to use a stolen credit card tonight?”

Me: “Oh, God, did he get you guys, too? Yeah, I even remember the name on the card.”

Sister: “Oh, yeah, we got them. Guess who their cashier was?”

Me: “…You?”

Sister: “Nope… [Name of the cardholder]. He works in the appliance section. They tried to use his own stolen card on him!”

(Apparently, the man whose card they stole and one of the store managers held the guys until the cops arrived. Crime doesn’t pay, kids.)

I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 18

| Chesapeake, VA, USA | Bizarre, Books & Reading, Food & Drink

(I’m standing with my shopping basket full of food in the dairy aisle of my local grocery store when I’m approached by a middle-aged lady I’ve known for years and who frequently comes into the library where I work. I’m wearing my black jeans and a maroon shirt, which looks nothing like the khakis and blue shirts employees wear.)

Lady: “Young man, do you work here?”

Me: “No, Mrs. [Lady]. I work at the library. Remember? You came in earlier this week? I checked out your books for you?”

Lady: “Oh, so you don’t work here then? Do you know the differences between these two kinds of cheese?”

Me: “No, but I bet I could probably find you a great book on them next time you come into the library where I work.”

(Some time later she came into the library during my shift and asked if I still worked at the grocery store, too.)

Related:
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 17
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 16
I Don’t Work Here, Does Not Work Here, Part 15

I Just Quit!

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Going Whacko Over A Taco

, | Florence, KY, USA | At The Checkout, Food & Drink, Liars & Scammers

(I am working in the drive-thru, when a customer who is always missing food pulls up to the window.)

Me: “Your total is [total].”

Customer: “Can I have some sauce, too?”

Me: “Yeah, no problem.”

(That’s when I recognized him. I repeat his order and make sure there is absolutely nothing wrong and he agrees with me. I quadruple check the bag and show all the employee’s so everyone knows he got all his food. I even take a picture. He comes back in five minutes later.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, is there a problem?”

Customer: “Yeah, I didn’t get my taco.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but the taco was in the bag when I gave it to you.”

Customer: “Well, it’s not in there now.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but when I handed you the food it was in there.”

Customer: “Well, where is it then? Cause it’s not in there.”

(He proceeds to show me the bag.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you must have taken it out because it was in there when I handed it to you.”

Customer: “Okay. Okay. I’ve seen you walking around, man. I’ll find you.”

(He really just threatened me. Like, wow. So I show him the picture.)

Customer: “…That’s not my food.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, it was. I just took it a couple minutes ago right before I gave you your food.”

Customer: *silence*

Me: “Now do you want to threaten me again, or do you want to leave?”

(He left.)

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