Don’t Want ANY Kind Of Withdrawal From That Account

Our shop has gotten new card readers for taking debit and credit card payments. Now we have more options for taking payments from customers. Because I am young and female, some customers believe technology is too complicated for my little girl brain to handle.

A customer comes in and tries to pay with his credit card by tapping it on the reader, which has been a popular feature. It declines.

Me: “Sorry, it didn’t go through. Some cards won’t work with that feature. Let me reset it and you can try again.”

The customer huffs while I reset the reader.

Me: “Okay, go ahead and insert it now.”

The customer does so, and it declines again.

Me: “Huh, okay, maybe it’s a weird bank card? Let me try and swipe it.”

The customer rolls his eyes dramatically and makes a big deal about handing over the card, all while a line of customers is beginning to form behind him. I swipe the card, and it’s declined again.

Me: “Sorry, it is still coming up as declined. Do you have another card we can try? Or cash, maybe?”

Customer: “Every time I come here, the card doesn’t work. Just type it in manually. Can you handle that?”

Me: “Sure, let me reset it and try again.”

I reset the machine and type it into the PIN pad in front of the customer so he can see I am entering the correct numbers. Sure enough, it comes up declined again.

Me: “Sir, it’s still declined. Do you have another form of payment?”

Customer: “No! Just… just… um… run it… um…”

Me: “Sir, there is no other way I can run this card through our system. We have tapped, inserted, swiped, and manually keyed it in. If you know another way to get a payment off this card, I am all ears.”

The customer stops, sighs, and reaches down the front of his pants, pulling out a wad of bills, and begins trying to separate them. I hold up my hands to stop him.

Me: “Sir, this store does not accept any bills that come out of your underwear or cleavage. I’m not touching those.”

The customer throws his hands up in the air, pulls out another credit card, and taps it. Ding, approved. I hand him his receipt and watch him slink away, the entire line glaring at him as he leaves.

Me: “Who can I help next?”