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    This Silver Story Is Pure Gold

    | New York, NY, USA | At The Checkout, Religion

    (A woman is attempting to return some rusted silverware she brought around five years ago from our store. Since it’s no longer on file and I can’t find any information on it, I call my manager, who happens to be both a former priest, and married.)

    Manager: “Okay, ma’am, please understand I can’t return this for its original price as this set is no longer in our system. I can return it for the price of our cheapest on-hand set, though.”

    Customer: “No, I want it for the original price. Nothing less. It was about $90.00, I believe.”

    Manager: “I am sorry ma’am, but I can’t do that on an item that’s over five years old.”

    Customer: “Oh, I think you can.” *she leans over the register and purses her lips* “I’d make it worth your while.”

    Manager: “Excuse me?”

    Customer: *smiles seductively* “I’m sure I could find some means of compensating you for such a nice favor.”

    (My manager stares at the woman for several seconds, then pulls out his wallet.)

    Manager: “Ma’am, I’d like you to have a look at this…”

    (The manager pulls out his ID that shows he’s been ordained.)

    Manager: “Now, I want you to look at this.”

    (He pulls out a picture of him with his wife, while holding up the hand his wedding ring is on.)

    Manager: “Now, I want you to take your cruddy silverware and leave before I call security.”

    Customer: *reels back* “Well, I never! I hope that b**** divorces your a** and takes everything you own, you f***!” *storms out*

    Enough To Make Your Mascara Run

    | Portland, OR, USA | Extra Stupid

    (I work at a cosmetics counter at a department store. I notice a customer checking out the mascara display.)

    Me: “Hi, can I help you find a mascara today?”

    Customer: “Yes, I don’t remember what type of mascara I use, but I need two in black and two in brown.”

    Me: “Okay, how about we take a look at the mascara displayed here? Do any of the names or tubes looks familiar?”

    Customer: “No, I don’t know what it looks like. I know what the package looks like. Can I just look at in the box?”

    Me: “Ma’am, all of the packaging is identical.”

    Customer: “I’ll know the package when I see it! I just need it in black and brown!”

    Me: “Alright, let me go check around in the drawer for you.”

    (After several minutes of searching in the drawer to figure out what type of mascara she is looking for, the customer approaches me, holding out two used tubes of mascara.)

    Customer: “I have the mascara that I use in my purse. Would that help you find it easier?”

    Receipt, Paper, Scissors

    | WI, USA | At The Checkout, Awesome Customers

    (I work as a cashier, and when we have no customers in line we move to the front of the lane to greet people and let them know our lane is open. Another cashier and I are at the front of our lanes chatting when a customer comes up.)

    Other Cashier: “Hi, we are both open and can help.”

    Customer: “Well, which of you wants to help me more?”

    Me: “It doesn’t really matter to us.”

    Customer: “Then how about you fight for the honor of checking out my items. You know; a fight to the death?”

    Other Cashier: “We can’t do that.”

    Me: “Yeah, too much blood. It’s a mess to clean up.”

    Customer: “Fair enough. So, how about rock, paper, scissors?”

    (We agree and play rock paper scissors to see who helps the customer. I ultimately lost, but it made the customer happy and was the highlight of the evening!)

    Belly Rubbed And Snubbed

    | MI, USA | At The Checkout, Wild & Unruly

    (I work at a department store as a cashier. I also have a medical condition where I must take a heavy amount of steroids, and a side effect of this is that I’m a bit chunky. I’m ringing up a customer.)

    Me: “Hi, did you find everything okay?”

    Customer: “Oh, my dear, how can they force a woman in your condition to stand at a cash register all day? Your ankles must be so swollen! When are you due?”

    (Suddenly, she reaches across the counter and rubs my belly, totally invading my personal space.)

    Me: “In about five years, after I finish college, get married, and get a job that pays above minimum wage. I’m fat, not pregnant, lady. And I do not remember giving you permission to put your hands on my body.”

    (The customer turns beet red, mumbles something, and abruptly leaves all her merchandise on the counter. I get a round of applause from the rest of the customers in line.)

    Next Customer in line: “I would have hit her if I were you.”

    Resistance To Assistance

    | Edinburgh, Scotland, UK |

    (I’m in a quite upmarket department store in Edinburgh, buying a new camera, and the store operates a concierge service for the assistants. You speak to a desk, and they arrange for a trained assistant to come and deal with you personally. I have been placed on the list and am awaiting my assistant at the camera desk, when a woman walks up to the opposite and just stands there. Five minutes later, the assistant arrives to help me.)

    Assistant: “Hi there, sir. How can I help you?”

    Other Customer: “Excuse me, I’ve been stood here five minutes and he’s been here two. You should be helping me first!”

    Assistant: “I’m sorry. This gentleman has requested assistance from the concierge. Have you arranged for an assistant?”

    Other Customer: “Yes, I did before him so you should be dealing with me first!”

    Assistant: “I’m so sorry. If you have arranged for an assistant, then one should be along shortly. However, I have been assigned to assist with this gentleman.”

    (Five minutes pass, and the other customer is getting annoyed just standing there. The assistant is taking me through various different features of the cameras. Suddenly the other customer walks around to my side of the counter and interrupts.)

    Other Customer: “Listen, I was here first! I should be helped!”

    Assistant: “I’m sure your assistant will be here shortly.”

    Other Customer: “This boy shouldn’t even be in here. He is clearly going to steal whatever it is you are trying to sell.”

    Me: “Excuse me? I’m 26, not a boy, and I was here at least 10 minutes before you!”

    Other Customer: “You’re lying! I saw you walk up to the counter after me!”

    Me: “Yes, because I was coming back from the concierge desk over there, after booking my assistant. I was here for ten minutes before that having a look around, and you were nowhere to be seen. In fact, you bumped into me whilst I was at the desk as you came off the escalator and didn’t apologise. You haven’t been anywhere near the desk to arrange an assistant, so that’s why no one has come to help you.”

    Other Customer: “It’s a shop! You don’t need to book an assistant! I’m more important than you, so I should be treated first! I’ve just left work because I’m sick and I need to have this sorted now!”

    Me: “So, you’ve not arranged an assistant even though you were standing next to two signs that said ‘If you require assistance please speak with the concierge’, and you have been stood there for ten minutes complaining about no service. You’re ill, so you thought it would be a good idea to come into a store with hundreds of other people for you to infect today, and potentially hundreds more another day because you’re getting your germs everywhere. You’re claiming you’re better than me despite the fact that I read the signs, have been patient and calm, and have not done anything to suggest I’d steal other than wearing casual clothing?”

    (The other customer then leaves in a huff, walks to the concierge and arranges the assistant. One minute later, an assistant comes to help her.)

    Other Customer: “I’ve been waiting for you for 20 minutes! The customer service here is horrendous! I want to speak to your manager!”

    Assistant #2: “Actually, I am the floor manager today. I was informed of your outburst and I was asked to deal with you as no other assistant wished to deal with your attitude, and your illness. I am fully aware that you only asked for an assistant less than two minutes ago, but have been stood at the desk next to the signs telling you what to do for ten minutes. I am happy to help you, but please try to keep calm or I will have security escort you from the building. Also, please do not touch any products or surfaces as we do not want our customers to get ill.”

    (The other customer was quite shocked, but clearly took on board everything the manager said. Her issue was dealt with, which was to find out what type of memory card her camera would take, which happened to be the cheapest model the shop sold. I left shortly after with my new, high-end DSLR at a discount because of the hassle.)


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