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    Bring (From) Home The Bacon

    | MI, USA | Awesome Customers, Food & Drink

    (I’m chatting with a customer as her husband tries on some jeans.)

    Me: “Oh, wow, what is that amazing smell?”

    Customer: “I just baked a bunch of bacon cookies before we came here.”

    Me: “Those sound so good. Oh, look, here he comes. Do they fit okay?”

    (Her husband was really picky about the jeans, but after about an hour I found a few pairs they both liked.)

    Customer: “How long are you working today?”

    Me: “My shift’s up, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”

    (The next day…)

    Customer: “Hi, remember me?”

    Me: “Sure do. Was everything okay with the jeans?”

    Customer: “They’re awesome. I just wanted to give you these.”

    (She hands me a gallon zip lock bag crammed full of bacon cookies. I’m speechless.)

    Customer: “Thank you so much for all your help yesterday.”

    (They were the best cookies ever. Thank you, wherever you are!)

    Cross Them Off Your Shopping List

    | Hayward, CA, USA | Bad Behavior, Religion, Wild & Unruly

    (My partner and I have a stall in a vintage clothing collective. On the day in question, I am working the counter when a woman comes in wanting to sell some clothes.)

    Customer: “I want to sell these.”

    Me: “Okay, let me see what you’ve got.”

    (As I am looking over the clothes, which are mostly from chain stores in the past 10 years, she notices I am wearing a vintage pewter cross.)

    Customer: “Hey! Why are you wearing that cross?!”

    Me: “Um, I like it?”

    Customer: “Hah! Just as I thought! You’re a disgrace! Wearing a cross as a piece of jewelry!”

    Partner: *coming out of the back room* “Technically, it IS a piece of jewelry! And she has every right to wear it.”

    Customer: “Hah! I seriously doubt that! So tell me, are you a Christian?”

    Me: “If you’re asking that question, I’m probably not what YOU would consider a Christian.”

    Customer: “I thought as much! You take that cross off right now, you little heathen!”

    Partner: *becoming very irritated* “Actually, ma’am, we have both attended many churches, including Methodist, Episcopal, and Old Catholic.”

    Me: “I’m currently Religious Scientist.”

    Customer: “I thought as much! Heathens! You aren’t entitled to wear that cross!”

    Me: “I’m as much entitled as you, Ma’am.”

    Partner: “So, if you’re not buying anything, please leave the store and stop harassing us.”

    Customer: “I’m not buying, I’m selling!”

    Partner: “Oh, no, you’re not.”

    Me: “You don’t have any REAL vintage, anyway.”

    Customer: “Well, I never! You girls don’t know how to run a business! I wouldn’t want to sell to a couple of heathens, anyway!”

    (She gathered up her clothes and exited the store in a huff. Thankfully, she never entered our heathen store again.)

    An Alarming Lack Of Responsibility

    | SC, USA | Extra Stupid

    (My coworker and I are closing up the store. The store is closed the next day, so we were admittedly a little eager to get home to start relaxing. I accidentally leave the front door unlocked in my rush to get home. We have several signs saying we are closed on Sunday. Apparently at around noon on Sunday, a customer gets into the store, starts browsing, and ends up setting the alarms off and running out. A few days later, the same coworker and I are working when a customer comes in.)

    Me: “Hello! Do you need help finding anything today?”

    Customer: “Not really, but I was the one who set off those alarms and never got to get the treats I came in for!”

    Me: “Well, we were closed, sir.”

    Customer: “How was I supposed to know that?!”

    Me: “Sir, did you not notice the signs on the door, the hours posted, the fact that the lights were off, and that the store was completely empty?”

    Customer: “No! It shouldn’t be my responsibility to keep track of your hours! It’s your responsibility to tell me when you’re open or not!”

    Coworker: “Sir, that’s what the signs are for. We can’t be here all the time to let people know we’re open.”

    Customer: “Well, you should be!”

    Not Cut Out For This Job

    | Chicago, IL, USA | Bizarre

    (It’s almost the end of a very long shift at the sample table and I’m exhausted. I guess I’ve just started to shut down, because I’m quiet and sort of zoned, but when I see a customer approaching I start back up.)

    Me: “Hi, would you like to try any samples today?”

    Customer: *leaps about a foot into the air* “I thought you were one of those cardboard people!”

    This Dress Is Making You Bluer By The Minute

    | Finland | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Money

    (I work in a clothing store and am well in on my last hour of a nine-hour shift. I cannot wait to go home, but at the last minute an elderly woman walks in and starts strolling around the store.)

    Me: *trying not to let my tiredness show* “Hello! How may I help you?”

    Customer: “WHAT?! SPEAK UP LOUDER, YOUNG LADY!”

    Me: *rather loud* “Hello, ma’am! How may I help you?”

    (The customer leans in towards my face . Not only is she almost yelling every word, she also has the most terrible breath I’ve ever encountered, but as a service-minded person I try not to let my reaction to the smell show on my face.)

    Customer: “I’m looking for a specific dress. It’s blue.”

    Me: “We have many blue dresses in our collection, ma’am. Could you be more specific?”

    Customer: “MY GOD! DON’T YOU KNOW ANYTHING? I DON’T WORK HERE!”

    (This continues for a while. I keep looking around the store while politely trying to find out more details about the dress she is looking for. It is now a quarter past closing time. Finally, we find it.)

    Customer: “Now, this is really expensive. €19.95 for a single dress? What if I don’t like it?”

    Me: “Ma’am, we have an open return policy; if you find that you’re unhappy with the purchase, we will gladly exchange it for you or give you your money back. Just bring it back with the receipt.”

    Customer: “It’s a bit long. I don’t like dresses that are long. I might have to dust up my old sewing machine and make a few changes.”

    Me: “That is an option, ma’am, but I should warn you, if you were to make alterations to the dress, we can’t take it back. If you want to return it, it has to be in its original state.”

    Customer: “You WHAT? That’s insanely rude! Of course I should be able to make a few alterations and still get my money back! I would only improve it! It’s not really worth the price. I would be helping you.”

    Me: “I’m very sorry, but that is our policy.”

    (At last, now almost thirty minutes after closing time, she decides to buy the dress, so we walk together back to the till.)

    Me: “That’ll be €19.95, ma’am.”

    Customer: “That’s all right. I have a coupon so I get it for free.”

    Me: “Hmm. Let me see the coupon. We usually do not have any coupons that entitles a free piece of clothing, only discounts.”

    (The customer then hands me a lunch coupon for a nearby restaurant.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, but I cannot accept this. This is not a coupon for our store, it’s a—”

    Customer: *interrupting* “WHAT? You rude little thing! I’ve paid with this at other places without problem!”

    Me: “Did you pay with these at [Restaurant nearby], by any chance?”

    Customer: “EXACTLY! So stop being an idiot and give me my free dress!”

    Me: “Again, I’m sorry, ma’am. I cannot accept this as a valid payment. I will be needing cash, or a credit card. I assure you, if you are not happy with the purchase, you will receive a full refund if you bring the dress back to us in its original state and with the receipt.”

    Customer: “Fine!” *she throws her credit card directly at me*

    Me: “Here, you put your card in this slot here, and press your pin-code to confirm the purchase.”

    Customer: “WHAT? I don’t know my pin-code! Everyone else knows it! Why are you being stupid? Does everyone who works here lack brain cells?”

    Me: “I do beg pardon, but there’s no need to insult me. That’s just the easier way for us to confirm payments. I’ll swipe the card for you, like this. Just sign here.”

    (She just stood and looked at me for a while, fuming with her bad breath, until she finally signed her receipt and stormed off, a full 55 minutes after closing time.)


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