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    The Sport Caught Her Short

    | MN, USA | Crazy Requests, Family & Kids

    (I work at a popular athletic clothing/sports equipment store.)

    Customer: “Excuse me, miss? I need some spandex shorts for my daughter. She’s joining volleyball.”

    (I am excited to help because it’s my favorite sport.)

    Me: “Of course! Let’s choose a color first. Black is the norm, but we also have red, a bunch of blues, and some lovely patterned ones.”

    Customer: “I’m just looking for black.”

    Me: “Sure. Does it matter what brand?”

    Customer: “I don’t think she’d care. What lengths do you have?”

    Me: “Two inches, three inches, and five inches are the regular lengths. We also have seven inches, but those are usually seen as too long.”

    Customer: *flabbergasted* “Only seven inches?! She’ll look like a whore!”

    Me: “Ma’am, five inches is quite enough cover. It’s about the same length as denim shorts. Seven inches goes a bit past the middle of the thighs.”

    Customer: *getting angry* “It doesn’t matter! They’re too short and tight!”

    Me: “No disrespect, ma’am, but have you considered signing your daughter up for a sport with a uniform that doesn’t include tight shorts? Like soccer, or basketball, maybe?”

    To Give Credit Where Credit Is Due

    | NS, Canada | Extra Stupid, Money

    (I work for a retail company and some of the things we sell have rebates. Customer fills out form, sends it in, 4-6 weeks later they receive a prepaid Visa card in the mail. Pretty simple, right?)

    Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]. How can I help you?”

    Customer: “I am FURIOUS!”

    Me: “Oh, no, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”

    Customer: “You sent me a Visa card in the mail! I just got it!”

    Me: “You mean a prepaid one, right?”

    Customer: “Exactly!”

    Me: “Oookay… Something wrong with it?”

    Customer: “I didn’t tell you to send me this!”

    Me: “Sir, did you recently fill out a rebate form?”

    Customer: “Yeah! On a ream of paper.”

    Me: “Well, that’s what we send you- a prepaid Visa card. You can use it anywhere. Was it for the right amount?”

    Customer: “Yes.. But I didn’t give you authorization to use my personal information!”

    Me: “What do you mean?

    Customer: “In order to send me this you had to go in and get my credit card information! I didn’t give that to you! How did you get that?”

    Me: “Sir, it’s prepaid. There is money already on it,. Once you use it, it is gone. You don’t need to pay it off. It’s like a gift card. We don’t have your credit information. We don’t need your credit information. It’s perfectly safe.”

    Customer: “Yeah?! Well, I didn’t tell you to send it to me!”

    Me: “Did you fill out the form?”

    Customer: “Yes.”

    Me: “Then you told us to send you that.”

    Customer: “Well, you should state what you’re sending me on the form!”

    Me: “We do… at the top… in big bold letters.”

    Customer:  “Yeah, but-”

    Me: “Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

    Customer: “…”

    Me: “Have a good day, sir.”

    (I guess some people have nothing better to do.)

    Related:
    To Give Credit Where Debit Is Due, Part 5
    To Give Credit Where Debit Is Due, Part 4
    To Give Credit Where Debit Is Due, Part 3

    Even Jack Reacher Can’t Fix This One

    | Canberra, ACT, Australia | Bizarre, Books & Reading

    (Two women, talking extremely loud, walk in. I let them browse and keep on with fixing a display because it’s a mess. Suddenly one starts yelling:)

    Customer: “IS LEE CHILD DEAD?!”

    (I realise that she’s screaming at me… from the other side of the shop.)

    Me: “Excuse me?”

    Customer: *with a great deal of attitude* “I SAID… IS LEE CHILD DEAD? WHY AREN’T YOU LISTENING TO ME?!”

    Me: “I apologise, ma’am. Usually people walk over to me, or say hello first, when they have a request or a question.”

    Customer: “Well, I was too busy talking to my friend! YOU should have been eavesdropping on our conversation!”

    Me: “So I could butt in and tell you about Lee Child?”

    Customer: “No! How DARE you?! I come in here to relax, not to be bothered by know-it-all shop people!”

    Complaining For The Devil Of It

    | Australia | Bizarre, Family & Kids, Religion

    (I am serving a customer who is buying shoes. She has come in with her daughter, no older than six. She is really nice to me until she spots a necklace I am wearing that my mother bought me for good luck. It is a moonstone with a pentagram above it, traditionally a pagan symbol for good luck before it was associated with Satanism.)

    Customer: “ARE YOU A SATANIST?!”

    Me: “… pardon??”

    Customer: “You’re wearing a satanic symbol around your neck! You’re a Satanist! How can you wear that and be hired here?”

    (The customers daughter looks very shocked and looks at me worryingly, mostly startled by what her mother had just said.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, I’m not. This necklace was a gift from my mother. The symbol was originally pagan as a symbol of good luck and other nice things. It later got associated with Satanism, although it really isn’t anything to do with Satanism at all. I am no Satanist. I did not mean to startle you.”

    Customer’s Daughter: *smiles and looks relieved* “It’s very pretty.”

    Customer: *huffs and glares at me* “Well, it traumatises children! You should never wear that filth to work!”

    (The customer stormed out of the store, fuming, dragging her confused daughter along with her. I chose to keep wearing the necklace every day as she was the only customer who had a problem with it.)

    Hasn’t Quite Cottoned On

    | Australia | Extra Stupid, Language & Words, Top

    (I work in a fabric store and am a lot younger than I look, so customers often patronise me. I’m used to it.)

    Customer: “I’m looking for cotton fabric.”

    Me: “Okay, any particular weave? We have plain woven, knitted jersey, japara—”

    Customer: “I don’t think you heard me. I want cotton fabric.”

    (Deciding not to argue I take her to the cheapest cotton fabric, which is just plain woven poplin, very similar to the fabric they use to make bed-sheets.)

    Customer: *in a patronising tone* “Don’t you know anything? I want c-o-t-t-o-n!”

    Me: “Yes, this is 100% cotton.”

    Customer: “No, it’s not. Cotton is the fabric they make jeans out of.”

    Me: “Oh, you mean denim?”

    Customer: “No, cotton. Jeans are made of cotton.”

    Me: “Yes, jeans are made of cotton, but it is woven in a particular way to make a fabric called ‘denim.’”

    Customer: “It’s not called denim, you silly girl. Denim is a boy’s name. Cotton comes from a special animal and is used to make jeans. Or have you not gotten to that part of school yet?”

    Me: “Actually, cotton comes from a plant and has a variety of uses that are not just restricted to jeans. Now if you’ll excuse me, my shift ended two minutes ago and I need to get home and finish my university assignment, which is a literature review on the critical success factors of the implementation of enterprise resource planning information systems.”

    (I showed her the fabric she was looking for on my way out. She looked embarrassed when she saw the tag did, in fact, read ‘denim.’)


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