Unfiltered Story #179119

, , | Unfiltered | December 8, 2019

(I approach a woman in our store and ask her if she is finding everything okay.)

Woman: Yes, I want you guys to place an online order for me because I tried to do it last night with a gift card and even though the order was 80$ so I should have had (insert some amount) left.”

(I hadn’t been able to hear her very well because she was talking very fast, I had my walkie talkie piece in my ear and we were standing under a speaker that was blaring music.)

Me: Okay, we can an online order for you. So you said your gift card wasnt working, you think you had 80$ left, and the transaction was less than that?

(She rolls here eyes and huffs at me and begins speaking in the most overly dramatic annoyed and condescending voice you can possibly imagine)

Woman: NO, I said the *order* was 80$ and I should have had some left.

Me: Okay, ma’am, I’m just trying to confirm what you mean. Are those the pants you wanted to order? *points to pants she has in her hand*

Woman: *insert another really dramatic sigh, eye roll, and bitchy tone* NO, /ma’am/, you’re not UNDERSTANDING ME. I want to order the pants ONLINE in a size 14.

(At this point I’m really taken aback at her attitude and am quickly losing my patience with her.)

Me: I understand, I’m asking if you wanted to order those pants in a different si-

Her: NO. I want to order the pants ONLINE.

Me: *very slowly, as I’m trying to not lose my shit* I understand that, ma’am. I was asking if that was the style of pant you wanted. We can do the order on the register.

(At this point I bring her over to the register and pull up our ordering catalog.)

Me: Did you have the style number for the pants you wanted to order so I can pull it up?

Woman: Ma’am, you need to let me LOOK THROUGH the pants you have.

Me: Okay, just come over to the side of the counter.

(The register I’m on has a bar-top style counter in front of it, and is on the corner, so if she stood to the side of me she could see over the counter and see the screen)

Me: Did you want a specific fit?

Woman: JUST LET ME LOOK THROUGH.

(I bring up all the pants we have and start slowly inching down the page for her.)

Woman: This is RIDICULOUS. I don’t know how you expect me to see anything, you are scrolling SO FAST and I am being forced to BEND OVER THIS COUNTER I cant see ANYTHING.

(At this point I look up and over at my manager and give her a very drawn, blank stare that very clearly says “help me before I kill this bitch”. Manager comes over, tells the customer she can come around to the back of the counter even though we typically dont allow it. I am getting to the point where I am so irritated with her attitude that I’m shaking because I’m trying to restrain my temper.)

Woman: I saw some grey pants that I wanted when I was at home.

Me: Okay, I’ll skim through and look for grey ones.

(I begin scrolling and the woman stops me and points to some pants)

Woman: Wait, what about those?

Me: Oh, those are actually light blue, not gre-

Woman: Ma’am, I UNDERSTAND THAT. I want to LOOK AT THEM.

(At this point, I am so pissed that I know I’m going to snap at her for her shitty attitude if she keeps it up. So I give her the mouse and tell her how to use it to scroll so she can look through at her own pace. She gets completely flabbergasted at how “complicated it is” and snaps at me again, so I put the mouse cursor over the scroll bar for her so she can just click down to browse through.)

Woman: I want to look through the clearance jeans now.

Me: Okay, let me see what clearance jeans we have in stock-

Woman: Ma’am I was ON THE COMPUTER LAST NIGHT, I KNOW you have them in stock.

(At this point I break a little inside and snap back at her in the same bitchy tone she was using with me, which I have never been driven to do before in all the time I’ve worked retail.)

Me: I understand, MA’AM, I will look for you, I am just trying to let you know what I’m doing so that you’re aware.

(She picks out her pants and goes to pay when my manager walks up again. The woman instantly drops the shitty-bitch attitude and begins bragging about how she got her gift card for a discount from some website and begins conversing with my manager as if nothing is wrong. She finishes paying and leaves.)

(Later, she comes storming back in and goes up to my manager demanding to know why “THAT GIRL”(me) didnt give her the coupon we were advertising that everyone got with a purchase that day. My manager explains that they send them in the mail with online orders. The woman gives me the most infantile, dirty glare possible as she leaves, to which I simply raise my eyebrows at her and give her a look.)