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Fail-Mix

| CA, USA | At The Checkout, Food & Drink, Hall of Fame, Popular

(I work in a grocery store that has a “bulk” section which sells items by the pound such as candy, trail mix, dried fruit, etc. About every three bins there’s a sticker reminding you to write down the PLU number of the item so the cashier can enter it into the computer and weigh it properly. Despite the numerous reminders, plenty of people don’t write the code, and the cashier is forced to search through our register books which have the 150 or more bulk codes.)

Customer: “Hello!” *sets down some produce and about 10 little bags of bulk product, none of which have codes*

Me: “Hello, did you find everything okay?”

(The usual polite back-and-forth goes on as I speedily enter the memorized codes for the produce, and then pick up the book and start scouring it for the bulk codes, which I don’t try to memorize because there are so many and they’re always changing.)

Me: “What was this one?” *holding up a trail mix that looks like a dozen others*

Customer: “Oh… I don’t remember.”

Me: “All right…” *holding another* “And was this deluxe trail mix salted or unsalted?”

Customer: *impatiently shrugging* “I don’t know!”

(Inwardly I’m rolling my eyes thinking “Well we WOULD know if you followed directions and wrote the codes on the tag”, but I keep a straight face and keep looking for the codes one by one.)

Customer: *leaning in with a sly look and a smile* “Are you new?”

Me: “No, I’ve been here two years. You’re supposed to write the codes for each of these items so I can enter them into the computer.”

Customer: *unconvinced tone* “Uh huh, okay.”

(After he left, I told my coworker about it and we were both amazed that customers think it’s perfectly reasonable to expect us to remember over 150 ever-changing bulk codes, be able to discern between a dozen almost identical trail mixes, and yet it’s NOT reasonable to for them to remember ONE thing: to write the darn code!)

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This Story Has Yet To Be Title

, | CA, USA | Crazy Requests, Hall of Fame, Movies & TV, Popular, Rude & Risque

(I am the night shift manager at a fast food restaurant. The corporate office had just started a new advertising campaign, and while not openly sexual, it is filled with innuendo. I get a phone call about 10 minutes before closing.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Restaurant]. This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I AM REALLY PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW! My children were watching TV this afternoon when your commercial came on. I cannot believe you would expose my kids to sex like that. I want you to take the commercial down, RIGHT NOW!”

Me: “Sir, this is a local store, so it has no control over the TV ads. The corporate office in Southern California produces and purchase all the advertising time for all of [Restaurant]. I would be happy pass of your name and number; that way they can put you in touch with the appropriate person.”

Caller: “THAT’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH! I want this ad taken off TV right now. You need to get on the phone and call the TV station and tell them to pull this filth off the TV, RIGHT NOW!”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry, sir, but I’m just a shift manager at a local store. We are a franchise location with no direct link to the corporate office in Southern California. I simply do not have the authority to make anyone pull these ads, nor does anyone else at this location. The franchise office might be able to help you. Their number is [number], and they open at eight am. You can tell them how you feel in the morning.”

Caller: “HOW CAN YOU ALLOW MY CHILDREN TO BE EXPOSED TO THIS SMUT?! If you cared about your customers you wouldn’t hide behind “authority.” You would listen to your customers, do your job, and have this smut pulled from the TV, RIGHT NOW!”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry, sir, but—”

Caller: “BUT NOTHING. GET IT PULLED RIGHT NOW!”

Me: “Sir, I’m a 19 year old college student working at a fast food joint. I agree with you that the new ad campaign is kind of inappropriate, but the TV networks simply aren’t going to allow me to call them up at 11:50 at night and have them pull advertisement paid for by someone else. If you give me your name and number I will ask the franchise office to contact you tomorrow, or you can call them at [number], or you can call the corporate office in Southern California at [a phone number I’m never supposed to give out], or you can even file a complaint with the Federal Communications Commission.”

Caller: “I WANT IT OFF THE AIR NOW! If you cared about my kids or your job, you would do it NOW! IF YOU DON’T DO IT NOW, I WILL GET YOU FIRED!”

Me: “Okay, sir, I will pass on your complaint.”

Caller: *all of a sudden he speaks in an almost hushed tone* “You know you’re going to Hell now, right…?” *click*

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Returning And Restoring

| NY, USA | Awesome Customers, Hall of Fame, Popular

Me: “Hi, can I do a return here?”

Cashier: *slightly worried expression* “Of course, ma’am.”

Me: “I’d like to return this book, please. I got it as a gift for a friend, but it turns out he’s already got one. I’m afraid I didn’t think to get a gift receipt, but I have the regular receipt.”

Cashier: *more cheerful* “That’s fine! Let’s see… oh.” *her face falls again* “I see here it was on sale when you bought it, so you won’t be getting the full sticker price back. And…” *she winces* “…you used your membership discount. So you’ll only be getting $17.85 back instead of the $52.95 printed on the price tag, is that okay?”

Me: “Yeah, that sounds about right. I think that’s what I paid in the first place, so that makes sense.”

Cashier: *blinking in surprise* “Okay, great. So let me just scan this in for you…”

(Her machine beeps at her and she flinches again.)

Cashier: “Oh. Uh, you paid cash, but I’m very sorry, ma’am, I can’t do a cash refund. It would have to be store credit. Is that okay?”

Me: “Yeah, that’s fine. I think I even have an old [Bookstore] gift card in here you could put it on, to save some plastic…”

(I rummage through my wallet. When I hand her the card I notice her staring at me, wide-eyed and incredulous.)

Me: “Sorry, is that not something you can do?”

Cashier: “I… no, I can do that. Thanks. It’s just… I’ve been here three hours and done six returns today. You’re the first person who hasn’t yelled at me for anything.”

Me: “Yikes! Really?”

Cashier: “Store credit makes people angry, I guess.”

Me: “People are ridiculous.”

Cashier: “You’re telling me. Anyway, here’s your card back. Your new gift card balance is $24.17. Thank you very, very much for shopping with [Bookstore] today, and for restoring my faith in humanity!”

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A Dislocated Sense Of Priority

| Holladay, UT, USA | Hall of Fame, Health & Body, Popular

(My joints sometimes don’t cooperate, which can make being a postal carrier interesting. On one such instance, I have just pulled into a neighborhood to start a walk when I dislocate my shoulder. When this happens while I’m alone, it’s easier to put back in if I’m lying down, so I pick a spot on the lawn I am parked in front of, very painfully ease myself down, and try to relax. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I carefully roll over, slowly get to my feet again, and sit back down in my truck to call my boss. After he’d comes to pick me up and assigns the rest of the route to someone else:)

Boss: “You weren’t the only person to call me about this, y’know.”

Me: “Ah, really? Someone wondering if I was okay?”

Boss: “Kind of. They said there was a carrier ‘rolling around on the ground,’ and wondered when they would be getting their mail.”

(Glad to know my customers are so interested in my well being!)

The Tailgate Scandal

| Southampton, England, UK | Criminal & Illegal, Extra Stupid, Hall of Fame, Popular

(In this particular car park, you take a ticket when you arrive — you can’t get past the barriers if you don’t — and then use the ticket afterwards to pay for how long you’ve been there. I’m waiting to pay for my parking, and a group of giggling girls, no older than 21 or so, approach the security guard.)

Girl #1: “So, like, we can’t get out; we don’t have a ticket.”

Guard: “You’ve lost your ticket? You can get a replacement—”

Girl #1: *giggles* “No, like, we never had one.”

Guard: “You… didn’t take one when you came in?”

Girl #1: *brightly* “Nope!”

Guard: “How did you get in?”

Girl #2: *clearly thinking that they were being smart* “We followed another car in!”

Guard: “So you tailgated another car in? Right, I see. You’ll have to call the control centre, and pay for a full 24 hours parking.”

Girl #1: “Uh, no. If we wanted to pay for parking, we would have just taken a ticket, right?”

Guard: “Yeah… You can either pay for a ticket, or you can go to jail. It’s your choice.”

Girl #1: “…How do we get a ticket?”

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