Unfiltered Story #116443

, | Unfiltered | July 11, 2018

(I work in a cafe that has a special where you can get a pastry for 99 cents if you buy an entre and a drink.  Usually, people buy it while ordering their food, and they get a ticket to turn into the bakery area when they’re finished.  We have a policy, though, that if you did not buy the pastry but you show us your receipt with an entre and a drink, we can ring you up for the 99 cent pastry.  I’m working in the bakery and a woman with two small kids and a man I presume to be her husband approaches the counter.)

Woman: “We’d like to purchase the 99 cent pastries.”

Me: “Alright.  Do you have a ticket or do you need to actually buy them?”

Woman: “We need to buy them.”

Me: “Alright then, could I please see your receipt?”

Man: “We threw it away with our trash.  Can’t you just trust us?”

(I look at the kids staring hopefully at the cupcakes, and decide that I’ll go ask my manager, who tells me to ask who rang them up in the first place.)

Me: “Who was it that got your order in the first place?”

Woman: “It was that young man right there.”

Me to male co-worker “Do you remember ringing them up?”

Male co-worker, looking a bit embarassed “No….”

Me: “Look, ma’am, I’m sorry, but I can’t give you the discount unless you have some sort of proof of purchase…”

Man: “What do you mean?  We’re honest people!  We bought the entre and drink!”

My manager, who has walked up behind me in this time “You know what, sir?  It’s just fine, the young lady can get you whatever you–”

Man: “No!  We’re dishonest!  C’mon -wife’s name-, we’re leaving!”

Manager: “Sir, I just said the young lady can get you whatever you want–”

Man: “No!  No!  We’re dishonest!  Let me tell you, sir, that is poor management!  Poor management!”

(They storm out, the kids looking a bit tearful.)

My manager mumbles to me: “No, actually, bad management would be handing out discounts to anyone who asked.”

(My manager leaves and my male co-worker and I chat about it for a few minutes. He’s sure he didn’t ring them up.  A few minutes later, our female co-worker comes back from break.  She is a foot taller than the boy, with darker hair, a different complexion, and is, of course, female.   We tell her the story.)

Female co-worker “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I was the one that rang them up….”

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