Refunder Blunder, Part 5

| Calgary, AB, Canada | Right | May 2, 2014

(I’m the assistant manager of my store. I’m at work on a quiet day when I get the following call.)

Caller: “Hello. I’ve got a problem here.”

Me: “Sorry to hear that. What’s the issue?”

Caller: “A refund with you guys didn’t show up on my credit statement!”

(It’s rare, but possible for an employee to make the mistake of charging the card a second time instead of refunding the money, so I check that right away.)

Me: “Oh, dear… By any chance does the same charge from us come up twice? If so—”

Caller: “No, no. There’s just no refund listed!”

(Baffled, I get her to give me the date and number from her receipt so I can look up the transaction.)

Me: “Oh, so, this is the sale transaction, not the refund. When did you come in to return the items?”

Caller: “I didn’t.”

Me: “You… Sorry, what?”

Caller: “I didn’t return them.”

Me: “So… you didn’t actually do a return with us, and now you’re wondering why there’s no refund on your credit statement?”

Caller: “Well, it just sounds silly when you put it like that!”

 

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Time To Call It A Night

| ON, Canada | Right | May 2, 2014

(I work the overnight shift. There is an older gentleman who says he can’t sleep at night so he often comes through my drive thru on his scooter to talk to someone. I feel bad for him at night and talk with him because there’s no way for him to get inside, but whenever I see him in the light of day he gets a lot creepier. It’s about 6:30 in the morning when I’m leaving work. My dad has come in to offer me a ride home when the customer rides into the parking lot.)

Customer: *yelling across the parking lot to my dad* “Where are you going?! That’s my night time girlfriend!”

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Not A Fan Of Fairytales

| Dubbo, NSW, Australia | Right | May 2, 2014

(My store has regular dress up days, and today is St Patrick’s Day. I go all out with a green wig, fairy skirt, stockings, and makeup. A male customer in his 60s stops me.)

Customer: “Why are you green?”

Me: “I’m a leprechaun!”

Customer: “You’ll die soon then.”

Me: “Why?!”

Customer: “Leprechauns die at the end of the day!”

Me: “Oh, how about an Irish fairy? Will I last longer then?”

Customer: “Nah, because I’ll shoot you.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I don’t mean real fairies. I mean the gays!”

Me: “Oh. Well, I’m both, then. Have a nice day!”

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Likes To Party Hard

, | Mexico | Right | May 1, 2014

(I am the cashier at a convenience store that also has a pharmacy on the back. It is a slow day and my pharmacy coworker asks me to watch his station for a minute. A mustached, gallon-hat wearing cowboy (boots and all) comes up to me and asks in a very deep voice:)

Cowboy: “Do you carry generic Viagra?”

Me: *stunned* “I’m sorry. If you could just wait for a minute?”

(Thankfully my coworker heard him and took over. I went back to my station and then the same customer appeared. His purchases? Generic Viagra, a tequila bottle, and a 25-pack of lollipops…)

Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 6

| Brighton, England, UK | Right | May 1, 2014

(I’m a waitress at a café. We have a really moody customer who just keeps complaining about everything. He asks for the manager but our owner, who is usually really sweet, kind, and caring, goes out to him. The customer and his daughter are sitting at our pavement area. I follow to clear some tables.)

Owner: “Sir, I’ve been told there’s a problem. How can I help?”

Customer: “It’s ridiculous! I wanted a can of drink and you only have bottles; my sandwich was so over-filled half of it fell out when I bit it; and my daughter’s milkshake is so cold she can’t drink it! We asked for…”

(Just then we hear shouting coming from another restaurant about 10 doors down.)

Other Café: “Stop him! Stop the kid on the bike! He stole my bag!”

(My boss suddenly flings her arm out and smacks the kid on the bike in the face with the tray she’s holding, sending him flying off his bike, with the stolen bags around his wrist. Everyone just stops what they’re doing and stares, silently. The other café customers come running and we soon hear police sirens. My boss then turns to the grumpy customer.)

Owner: “You were saying, sir?”

Customer: “Er… you know what? It’s a bit crazy now. I think we’ll just go…”

 

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