Used And Abused

(I am working at a makeup store as a cashier. I am about 16 and don’t have much job experience, and this is my first job working in a retail-type setting. We have our refund policy posted all over the store, including on receipts and our website. We do not allow any makeup returns unless the makeup is unused and the unit carton is sealed with no obvious signs of damage to the product or the carton. A woman walks in with a bag filled with palettes and drops it on the counter.)

Customer: “I’d like to make a return.”

Me: “Sure, of course! Do you have your receipt with you?”

Customer: “Yes. I want to return all of this stuff in the bag. It was complete s***.”

Me: “Um… okay.”

(She hands me a very long receipt.)

Me: “Thank you, ma’am. All right, everything? And it’s all untouched?”

Customer: “Yes, I never used it.”

(She takes out her a little booklet with her credit cards in it and places it on the counter while I open the bag. A giant poof of powder from the palettes flies up into my face. Every single palette is clearly shattered, and the pans that aren’t broken have clearly been used.)

Me: “Uh… ma’am, everything is… broken.”

Customer: “Yes, that’s why I’m returning it.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this. These pans have obviously been used, and they’re damaged.”

Customer: *becomes an uber-witch in 0.32 seconds* “I never used them! They were broken when I bought them, b****; that’s why I’m returning them!”

Me: *caught off-guard* “Ma’am, these pans—” *I point to the pans* “—are clearly used! There are finger swipes on them. I’m sorry, but we don’t accept returns of damaged or used products.”

Customer: “You little a**-wipe, get me your f****** manager this very second!”

Me: “As of right now, I am the only working employee.”

Customer: “Then call your f****** manager, s***-head!”

(I’ve never faced this type of dilemma, so I call my manager. She doesn’t pick up.)

Customer: “I paid good money for this s***, and it was f****** broken! I want to f****** return my f****** makeup, you f****** c***!”

(I’m getting angry now, and the other customers are staring.)

Me: “Ma’am, I really don’t know what you want me to tell you. I—”

Customer: “Tell me that I can f****** return this! What the h***’s your name? I will f****** report you to your f****** boss!”

Me: “MA’AM. We do NOT accept broken or used products, and these palettes are both! I am going to have to ask you to leave if you continue this behavior.”

Customer: “I don’t see your return policy! I’m going to sue your f****** company, you hear me?!”

Me: “The return policy is on your receipt and written around the store near the displays. It’s also on the counter and on our website.”

Customer: “I COULD’VE MISSED THAT!”

Me: *finally losing my temper* “Do you have eyes? I see them right now and they clearly work so if you have them then please, for the sake of all of us, use them to read things so you don’t sound like a f****** idiot when you talk to other people!”

Customer: “YOU B****! I’M CALLING YOUR MANAGER!”

Me: “I’m going to have to ask you to leave right now, or I will call the police.”

(I notice another employee, who happens to be gifted in the martial arts, arriving for her shift standing at the entrance of the store, watching. I eye the phone on the wall. She mouths “9-1-1?” and I nod. She dials the police.)

Customer: “B****! You’ll get what you deserve!”

Me: “Ma’am, you must leave immediately or I will have you escorted out.”

Customer: “YOU FILTHY W****! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME LEAVE!”

(She pulls a nail polish with a rather slim and pointy cap made by a certain famous fashion designer off of the shelf next to her and throws it hard at me. It hits my temple and I start bleeding.)

Me: “The police have been called and take note that I will see you in court for harassment and assault.”

Customer: “NO, YOU WON’T!”

(She immediately turns around and starts running right towards the entrance near the other employee. The employee grabs her arm and flips her on the ground, then places her foot on her chest. The police arrive right as she’s doing this and arrest the customer. I grab the customer’s booklet off of the counter and flip it open. Right on the very front slip is her ID. I walk over to the customer and police.)

Customer: “SHE’S A LIAR! SHE’S A F****** CRAZY B****!”

Me: *ironically* “MA’AM, you forgot this as you were trying to run away.”

(I dropped it on the ground and walked back to the counter.)