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Pola-Roid Rage

| Wasilla, AK, USA | Right | December 6, 2013

(I work the returns counter at a retail store. We have a customer that comes in every couple of months and returns several packs of Polaroid film, each worth about $20. She never has a receipt and always has the same excuse that she bought too much for the occasion. We suspect she is stealing them from another store in the area, and returning them at our store. Our loss prevention team doesn’t have enough on her to deny the returns. The electronics department implements a policy that we are not allowed to return Polaroid film without a receipt if it doesn’t have one of our security tags on it. Sure enough, the customer comes back in after this policy is in place. None of the boxes she brings in have our security tags on them.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m not able to return these without a receipt.”

Customer: “But I’ve returned these here before. Why can’t I now?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. They changed our return policy. We are no longer allowed to return this type of film without a receipt if it doesn’t have our security tag on it.”

Customer: “Well, I know I bought it here. I want my money back.”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry, ma’am. These do not have our security tag on them. I cannot do a return without a receipt. Could you have purchased them from [other store in the area]?”

Customer: “NO! I bought them here. If I can’t return them here I just won’t shop here anymore!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am, but I have to follow our return policy.”

(The customer walks off with her film, huffing as she goes. After about 10 minutes the customer’s husband storms up to my counter.)

Customer’s Husband: “You calling my wife a thief?!”

Me: “Excuse me, sir?”

Customer’s Husband: “My wife was just up here trying to return film. She said you told her she couldn’t return it because it was stolen!”

Me: “No, sir. I explained to her that I couldn’t return the film without a receipt because they don’t have our security tags on them. Then I asked if she might have purchased them from [other store in the area]. I never accused her of stealing.”

Customer’s Husband: *shouting* “I’ve never seen this ‘security tag’ you’re talking about. You’re lying to me!”

(The customer’s husband storms off towards the electronics department, shouting.)

Customer’s Husband: “I’m going to prove you’re a liar. Then I’m gonna kick your a**!”

(I run after him to try to warn the department manager of what’s about to happen. When the husband gets into the department he starts pulling 35mm film packs off the shelf shouting.)

Customer’s Husband: “I don’t see no security tag!”

(He then threw the packages over the shelf. The manager of the department was dodging packs of film as he was trying to get to the customer. I reached him first. I grabbed a Polaroid film pack off the shelf and showed the man the security tag on the back that I had been referring to all along. The man stopped mid-throw and mid-shout, looked at me for a moment and then walked away without saying a word. We never saw either of them again in our store.)

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Disk Driving The Credit Crunch

| Elk Grove, CA, USA | Right | December 6, 2013

(I am a brand new phone tech support agent for a well known computer company that prides itself in ‘ease of use’. This is my first call. As such, I have a trainer double jacked with me to listen and help.)

Me: “Hello and thank you for calling Tech Support. My name is—”

Customer: “You a**-holes! Gimme back my credit card now!”

Me: “Excuse me? I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t understand what you mean.”

Customer: “You know exactly what I mean! You took my credit card and I want it back right f****** now!”

Me: “I do apologize, but I’m still not exactly sure what you mean. How did we steal your credit card?”

Customer: “Your stupid f****** computer asked for my credit card and now it won’t give it back!”

Me: “Once again I do apologize, but I’m still not sure exactly how we took your credit card. What were you doing when we took it?”

Customer: “I was setting up the internet and you f****** took it!?”

Me: “Was someone helping you at the store and they took it while setting up the internet?”

Customer: “No, you god-d*** moron! I was setting it up at home and when it asked for my credit card info I put it into the credit card slot on the computer. Now this piece of s*** won’t give it back!”

Me: “Ma’am, our computers don’t come with credit card readers.”

Customer: “Of course it does! It has a slot right on the front for it.”

(At this point I realize the customer has put her card in the disk drive. After walking her through several steps I have to refer her to a service center to get the card removed.)

Me: “So, once again, I do apologize for the inconvenience this has caused. You will need to take your computer to one of our service centers so that one of our techs may remove your card.”

Customer: “I can’t f****** believe this! I’m reporting you and I’ll have you run out of business!”

(The customer hangs up. I turn to my trainer.)

Me: “Are all my calls gonna be that crazy?”

Trainer: “Only if you’re lucky.”

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Mightier Or Meatier?

| Working | December 6, 2013


Won’t Have A Leg To Stand On

| Denton, TX, USA | Working | December 6, 2013

(I have taken my van in to rotate the tires, but I also need my other wheels inflated.)

Me: “Excuse me sir, but could you—”

Employee: “Just pull it in and we’ll take care of it.”

Me: “But, sir. I need to get—”

Employee: “Just pull it in the bay and we’ll get you all fixed up.”

Me: “Sir, I just need some air—”

Employee: “Just pull it up on the rack!”

Me: “FINE!”

(I roll my little sport wheelchair up on the rack, cross my arms, and wait for him to notice. It doesn’t take long for other employees to notice and burst out laughing. The laughter makes the first employee pay attention and turn around. The look on his face is priceless! My wheelchair uses bicycle tires, which they inflate for me. They are very nice folks who will now let a customer finish a sentence!)

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They’d Like To Look At The Kid(nap) Menu, Part 2

| Edison, NJ, USA | Working | December 6, 2013

(My eight-year-old friend and her stepfather go out shopping. She is white Asian, and her stepfather is African-American.)

Cashier: “Hey, thanks for shopping at [Name].”

(The cashier sees my friend playing with an action figure.)

Cashier: “Like going out with your friend?”

Friend: “Yeah. He’s my stepfather!”

Cashier: *confused* “Really?”

Friend: “Yeah!” *to stepfather* “Can I get a lolly now?”

Stepfather: “Sure, darling.”

Cashier: “Could you just stay for a sec? I need to check some stuff on your purchase.”

(They wait a few seconds while the cashier pushes a button. A manager comes along.)

Manager: “What seems to be the problem?”

Cashier: “This man seems to be with this girl and she says she’s related to him. I think he’s abducting her.”

(My friend’s stepfather is horrified. The manager looks closely at him.)

Manager: “Are you related to this child?”

Stepfather: “I’m her stepfather. Look, I can call her mother—”

Cashier: “That won’t be necessary.”

(The cashier starts speaking into the radio.)

Cashier: “Security, close the main doors.”

Manager: “Listen, [Cashier]. This is stupid. Just because a black person is with someone who isn’t black doesn’t mean it’s criminal.”

Cashier: “Well, I’ve already pressed the 911 button, so they’re on their way.”

Stepfather: “Please, I haven’t done anything wrong. She REALLY is my stepdaughter!” *to the manager* “I swear, I’m telling the truth.”

Manager: “I understand, sir.” *to cashier* “Just please call them off.”

Cashier: “I called 911, remember? I can’t call them off.”

(When police arrive, they question my friend and her stepfather. The policeman asks my friend questions like her stepfather’s first name, birth date, and their address. After a call comes that the information is checked out with my friend’s mother at her home, the policeman looks at the manager.)

Policeman: “Well, this is accurate. She’s eight years old; a little kid wouldn’t know a strange adult’s date of birth. Plus, we don’t have any issues of missing children her age in the state. So, I think that he hasn’t done anything.”

Stepfather: *to cashier* “I TOLD you! You just have to go ahead and don’t let anyone get a word in!”

Manager: *to Cashier* “I’ll be seeing you round back.”

(Even twelve years later my friend has never gone back in the store, even though the cashier was fired.)


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