I am working near the fitting rooms of the clothing store. I notice four adult men walk in, sneak into the fitting rooms, and close the curtains on a single cubicle. Not sure about this, I call my manager and security over.

They get to me at the same time as the smell of the joint those men are smoking. Mystery solved.

Our security guy marches over and pulls the curtain open to reveal all four of them sharing a smoking joint. This is years before smoking weed is legal in my state.

Guy #1: “Hey, man, some privacy!”

Security: “Out! Now! All of you!”

As they’re leaving, they’re moaning and cussing, and one of them stupidly asks:

Guy #2: “How did you know what we were doing?”

Manager: “How about how suspicious it looks that four grown men walk into a clothing store exclusively for eight- to twelve-year-old girls and march straight for the dressing rooms? Or maybe that the tops of all four of your heads were visible over the child-sized dressing room curtains? Or maybe it’s because said dressing rooms are not air-sealed chambers and you’re all smoking a f****** doobie!”

The guys, security, and the manager are now outside the store.

Manager: “Seriously, how else did you think this was all going to play out?”

Guy #1: *Shrugs* “I dunno. We just really wanted to light up.”

Manager: “If I see any of you four near my store again, I’m calling the police.”

Guy #2: “Ha! Nice try! My dad is a police captain!”

Guy #1: “Dude! Shut up!”

They weren’t the sharpest crayons in the box… 

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We Can’t Believe They Thought That Would Work

 It is 2013, and a bridal party has arrived for an appointment in my store. They are having a good time going through gowns for the bridesmaids and the wedding dress for the bride herself.

Bride-To-Be: “I just don’t know. I love so many of these, but I wonder what George will think.”

Bridesmaid #1: *To me* “George is the groom.”

Me: “I see. Well, in my experience, you should go for whatever makes you 100% happy. Your fiancée will be happy as long as you’re happy.”

Bride-To-Be: “I guess, but he’s paying for it, so I want it to be something he would appreciate, too.”

Me: “Well, has he said anything about his preferences?”

Bride-To-Be: “Well, not really. Oh! He was talking the other day about weddings and was getting excited about it! Something from one of his shows!”

Me: “Oh, can you remember what show it was, or what it was about the wedding he liked?”

Bride-To-Be: “It was that dragon show that everyone’s watching lately. Something about a red wedding. Maybe we could do something like that?”

I go silent. I look at the pale faces of her bridesmaid entourage, and I can see we have all come to the same dreadful conclusion.

Bridesmaid #1: “Honey, no… you don’t want that.”

Bride-To-Be: “Why not? Was the dress ugly?”

Bridesmaid #2: “Trust us, honey. Just… don’t.”

Bride-To-Be: “Why? Was it truly hideous?”

Bridesmaid #3: *Walks over with a phone* “Here’s a clip of it on YouTube.”

Bride-To-Be: *Starts watching it* “Oh, it’s like old-timey renaissance fair stuff. That’s kinda cute—”

I hear the screaming from the video begin. The poor bride-to-be’s eyes go wide, and I can see her face turning pale. As the screaming reaches a crescendo, [Bridesmaid #3] pulls the phone back.

Bridesmaid #3: “I’ll stop it there before it gets any worse.”

Bride-To-Be: “It gets worse?!“

Bridesmaid #1: “Let’s just stick to the nice dresses we have here, honey!”

Bride-To-Be: “But… but that’s his favorite show! His favorite show! Who am I marrying?”

Me: “To be fair, it’s a lot of people’s favorite at the moment. I also quite enjoy it each Sunday.”

Bride-To-Be: *Looks me over* “Well… you seem quite normal.”

Me: “I think I am?”

Bride-To-Be: “Hmm… okay. Well, let’s see more gowns for my girls, then. But nothing red!”

Me: “You got it.” 

I got a thumbs-up from all the bridesmaids, and one of them told me later that I had just saved the wedding. Ten years later, I got a “thank you” card from the couple on their tenth anniversary, so I guess they’re doing well!

Years ago, I bought a shell jacket. I loved that jacket — nearly to death. The zipper gave me some trouble for a few years until, finally, I took it in to get a new zipper. I wasn’t looking for a free repair; I was more than happy to pay for it. I just wanted a proper zipper put into my beloved jacket.

They told me it would take a couple of weeks. I called a couple of weeks later, and they told me that my jacket was not salvageable because it was so old, they no longer knew where it was, and it may have been destroyed already. They offered me a store credit for what I had paid for my original. What I had paid for it was in the neighborhood of $100. All the new jackets they had were well over $300, and none of them were remotely what I wanted.

I started making calls to their head office in Vancouver trying to get my jacket back. After several horrible calls, including one with a guy who argued vehemently that I didn’t know what kind of clothing to wear outdoors, they finally agreed to try and track down the jacket.

About two months later, I finally got my jacket back — unchanged. The young fellow in the store when I collected it said that this was the first time he’d seen this happen. I asked him to clarify, and he said it was the first time that he’d seen a person get their article back. Most people just rolled over and took the store credit because their store policy was to take the article and refuse to give it back.

At best, this is a terrible customer service practice. At worst, it is theft. They have no right to take someone’s possession and destroy it and then extort them to buy a new article instead. I will never buy anything from that place again, and I tell everyone I know about this terrible practice.

CONTENT WARNING: Gross (Feces)
 

Ages ago, I was in charge of the fitting rooms. A customer came up to me and said something like:

Customer: “Hey… I don’t know if you can help with this, but I wanted to let you know about that fitting room stall over there. It smells awful!”

I went to investigate. For all intents and purposes, the fitting room looked clean… FOR ONCE. If it wasn’t for the smell, I’d have thought it was a miracle.

But sure enough, it reeked of straight-up poop.

I moved the chair in the room. Nothing was hiding under that. I looked under the bench and didn’t find anything, either.

Finally, I looked up.

There was what appeared to be tissue stuffed into the light fixture.

I kid you not, someone SHOVED A TURD into the light! And it had been baking for a while…

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Some People Just Want To Watch The World Burn, Part 26
Some People Just Want To Watch The World Burn, Part 25
Some People Just Want To Watch The World Burn, Part 24
Some People Just Want To Watch The World Burn, Part 23

I work in a women’s clothing store. It’s not under a chain but privately owned. I’m helping a woman in her forties find an outfit. Usually, we have a lot of repeat customers, but as the town isn’t on the small scale and has a lot of vacation homes, it isn’t unusual that new faces come in.

At first, everything is ordinary; we engage in small talk, what event she’s going to, formal or non-formal, pants versus dress, what colors she likes, etc.

I find items for her, find her sizes, and offer suggestions. Then, she notices a foundation stain on the collar of a shirt she likes. Luckily, I find the same shirt in storage and say so.

This is where the customer usually does one of two things. They either thank me and take the other shirt, or they ask if they can buy the stained one for a discount.

This woman does neither. Instead, she just looks at me with disbelief on her face.

Customer: “Are you telling me that other people have tried on these clothes before me?”

I am standing there expecting some kind of sign that she is pulling my leg. None comes.

Me: “Yes, someone else has tried on clothes here before.”

Customer: “Have all the clothes I tried been tried by anyone else?”

Me: “Yes, probably.”

Really, how am I supposed to know that unless it’s still in plastic and not on a hanger and out in the store?

She frowns, looking displeased.

Customer: “I… I need to go.”

She ran out, her world forever changed…