Email Fail, Part 4

, | MA, USA | Extra Stupid, Technology

(I’m currently in the process of signing up a customer for a rewards card.)

Me: “I’m gonna need an email address to finish the process of signing you up.”

Customer: “I don’t have one.”

Me: “Oh, well maybe your husband does?”

Customer: “Oh, yeah, he does. It’s yahoo.com.”

Me: “Ah, well, it needs the first part of the email. Do you have that?”

Customer: “It’s yahoo.com.”

Me: “Right, well it still needs the beginning part. For example, if I were to make an account I might do “[My Name]@yahoo.com” or something like that.”

Customer: “Oh oh, then let’s do “[Husband]@yahoo.com.”

Me: “Well, he would have to create the account like that.”

Customer: “Oh.”

Me: “You can sign up next time, once you get your email created and stuff.” *begins to ring up her items*

Related:
Email Fail, Part 3
Email Fail, Part 2
Email Fail

There Is No App For Stupidity

| FL, USA | Extra Stupid, Technology

(I am showing a gentleman where our screen protectors are for iPads.)

Me: “Here is where we have all our screen protectors. Now to make sure we get the right one do you know which iPad you have?”

Customer: “Apple.”

Me: “That is the manufacturer, but do you know which model it is? The iPad I,II?, the mini?”

Customer: “Um, Apple?”

One Little Vial Of Bigotry

| PA, USA | At The Checkout, Bigotry, Religion

(I’m a Pagan/Wiccan so I have on a pentacle necklace. Normally no one even notices it, but this day was very different. I’m working as the greeter on this particular day, so I stand just inside the door and hand out the weekly ad flyer to everyone that comes in. A lady walks in but is staring at her phone when I greet her.)

Me: “Good morning, ma’am!” *hands her the ad flyer* “Is there anything I can help you find today?”

Customer: *without looking up takes the flyer* “Oh, no thank you, honey.”

Me: “Okay, well, if you need any help just let me know!”

Customer: “Thank you.” *finally looks up at me and starts to smile, but then her eyes meet my pentacle necklace with a black crystal hanging from it, and her face freezes* “OH, LORD JESUS SAVE ME! THIS STORE EMPLOYS HEATHEN DEVIL WORSHIPPERS! I CAN’T SHOP HERE!”

(She proceeds to throw the ad flyer back at me and run from the store. A manager ,who has been at the other end of the store, hears the commotion and comes up to check on me.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], what’s going on up here?”

Me: “Oh, I had some customer, throw the ad flyer at me and call me a devil worshipper because she saw my necklace.” *points to it*

Manager: “Well, maybe you shouldn’t wear that here if it causes us to lose customers. Just keep it in your locker or something if you insist on wearing that thing.”

(I look at him in shock, hoping that he would realize that he just violated my freedom of religion, but apparently it never dawns on him. About a week later, I’m working in the same position and the same lady walks in, but I am not wearing my necklace this time, as I’ve stored it in my locker.)

Me: “Good morning, ma’am.” *hands her ad flyer*

Customer: *looks me up and down noticing the lack of pentacle necklace, and visibly relaxes* “Ah, that’s a relief! You’ve finally accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior and have renounced your heathen ways! I’ve been praying for you, child.”

(Having had enough of her religious bigotry, I calmly turn off my radio and look her straight in the eye.)

Me: “No, that’s not it at all. Do you remember the black crystal that was hanging off the bottom of my pendant?”

Customer: “…Off of the devil worship pendant? Yes, what about it?”

Me: “Well, it wasn’t actually a crystal; it was a vial of infants’ blood, and the other day I was really hungry so I ate it.”

(The customer drops the ad flyer from her hand in horrified shock, and runs out the door as fast as she could. Again the manager comes running from the other side of the store.)

Manager: “What the heck is going on up here?! What did you do this time, [My Name]?”

Me: *with completely straight face* “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

(The whole time my co-worker in the printing area was trying to stifle his laughter. He is an Asatru, and has a Thor’s hammer necklace on, but no one ever says anything to him about it…)

Ruined By Ink

| VA, USA | Liars & Scammers

Customer: “So, you have to buy ink within 90 days to get credit for recycled cartridges? That’s not fair.”

Me: “Yes. It didn’t used to be like that, but some people were buying cheap cartridges online and expired ones and recycling those to try and cheat the system, and the company was losing a lot of money, so they had to add that rule. Some people ruined it for everybody, haha.”

Customer: “Oh, I did that! Ha, I’d buy generic ones off… ”

Me: “…”

Customer: “…”

Me: “You were buying cheap cartridges online and expired ones and recycling those to try and cheat the system, so they had to add that rule. You helped ruin it for everybody.”

Customer: “Oh. Huh…”

Learning That Theft Is Not A Game

| Roanoke, VA, USA | Criminal/Illegal, Family & Kids

(This exchange is short, but occurred years ago while working at the front register of a local office supply retailer in the area. The way this building is set up is that you pass through two sets of doors, connected by a small hallway with glass panels so that we can see people entering/departing. I finish ringing up a young woman and her son, who has remained very quiet throughout the entire purchasing exchange. Then this happens.)

Me: “Thank you for your business. Have a nice day.”

Customer: “Thanks. Let’s go, [Son].”

(The two make their way out; I happen to glance at them as they are walking away and notice the boy keeping his hands tucked behind his back. He is holding a small computer game disc out of view. At first I didn’t see it as theft; I couldn’t remember if I had rang it up. Regardless, I stepped over and before they got halfway through:)

Me: “Sorry, miss, did you want me to bag his game as well?”

Customer: “Wha-? Game?”

(She then turns and sees what her son is holding, becoming pale and suddenly frantic. She snatches up the game and the boy’s hand, charging back into the store telling me how sorry she is and that she is making him take it back right away. I just stand there sort of in awe.)

Her: “Wait until your father gets home!”

Son: *says nothing, hanging his head, walking sulkily out the door behind his mother*

Me: “Ah, well, then…” *under my breath* “…good luck, kid.”

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