Might Not Just Be The Drinks They’re Sharing

, , , , , | Right | September 21, 2018

(I am a cashier at a small, gourmet grocery store. Two men approach my register, each with a drink they wish to purchase. They place both drinks on the register counter and move towards the card reader.)

Me: “Are you two together?”

Man #1: “Oh, no, no, no, no. Nothing like that.”

Man #2: “No, we’re just friends! Just friends!

Me: “Sorry, I meant, ‘Will the drinks be paid for in one transaction?'”

Man #1: “Oh, yes.”

Front End Manager: *muttering two registers behind me* “Thou protesteth too much.”

Getting Very Shirty About Those Three Dollars

, , , , | Right | September 21, 2018

(There’s a large sale going on at our store, and extra 40% taken off the lowest marked ticket price on clearance items. I am working at customer service, doing what few returns we have had, when a gentleman walks up to my register.)

Customer: “I just checked out with the cashier over here, and all your clearance is an extra 40% off, but he didn’t take the discount off.”

Me: “Okay, would you like me to double check?”

Customer: “Oh, yes, please; that would be lovely.”

(I go through the 50+ t-shirts he bought, price-checking them one by one to make sure they ring up right and match his receipt. He lets me do this on every item, taking at least five minutes.)

Me: “Well, sir, according to your receipt, and the prices the register pulled up, everything rang up correctly.”

Customer: “Okay, but what’s the total?”

Me: “The total is at the bottom of your receipt. Everything rang up the same, so the total should be correct.”

Customer: “Well, I want you to ring it up again and make sure the totals match up. Now.”

(I decide not to argue and just go ahead and do it; however, his total is about $3 less than on his original receipt, not enough to be a clearance issue. After double-checking everything, once again the process taking several minutes, I see he also bought some candy and cookies at the register.)

Customer: “So, why is the total less now than it was then?”

Me: “Well, when you made the purchase, sir, you also purchased some candy and cookies, causing the $3 difference.”

Customer: “Well, I want my $3 back!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t give you money back for something you purchased and consumed.”

Customer: “You’re just trying to take my money. That’s all these stores are good for. Keep the $3. But I won’t be back again.”

Me: “Have a good day, sir!” *to coworker* “Think that was a promise?”

“She Barks” Isn’t Referring To The Dog

, , , , | Right | September 21, 2018

(I work at a pet store. A customer comes up behind me and roughly taps me on the shoulder while clearing her throat. I turn to see a woman in her 40s, cradling a snarling Chihuahua in her arms. It snaps and lunges at me. Throughout our conversation, this armpit piranha keeps trying to escape its owner’s grip.)

Me: “Hello! How—”

Customer: “She barks.”

Me: “Oh, a talker, eh? Does that happen more when she greets you, when she’s hungry, or when she plays?”

Customer: “She barks!”

Me: “Okay. We have tons of interactive toys to occupy her, and we offer classes for—”

Customer: “Where are your collars? She needs to learn her manners.”

Me: “Training collars are showcased in aisle eight, but they are locked up.”

Customer: “I’m not trying to steal!”

Me: “No, I know. It’s just policy.”

Customer: *eyes me suspiciously* “Fine. Show me.”

(I take her to the aisle with the showcase and we go over the different kinds. Again, I try to find out why her dog is barking and what she has done about it, but she is adamant that she just wants to buy a collar and go home. I warn her that it won’t be an instant fix, but she insists she knows her dog better than I do. She picks one, purchases it, and leaves. Thinking my ordeal is over, I return to my duties. Two hours later, a manager pages me to the register. I arrive to see the same woman, the dog still on her arm. On the register belt is the collar she purchased, the box and directions shredded.)

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “You sold me s***!”

Manager: “You helped this woman?”

Me: “She wanted a bark collar.”

Customer: “It doesn’t work!”

Me: “It does take a little while for your dog to stop. It’s not an instant fix.”

Customer: “That’s not what you told me! You said this would solve my problems!”

Manager: “[My Name], you know these don’t work right away. Were you thinking of something else?”

Me: “No. I told her they work, but over time. What’s happening when you put it on your dog?”

Customer: “It doesn’t even turn on!”

Manager: “Oh, it’s just defective. That’s easy enough.”

(We exchange her collar for another one and my manager takes her aside to listen to her complaint. When it’s over and she leaves again, my manager looks like he’s about to bang his head on the wall.)

Me: “So… what’s up?”

Manager: “She wanted me to fire you for not telling her she needed to charge the collar.”

Me: “Uh, well, it’s an electric collar and there are no batteries. What did she think it did?”

Manager: “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Me: “It’s literally the first sentence in the instructions.” *looks out the all-glass front of the store* “She’s standing out there.”

Manager: “I know. She’s waiting for me to reprimand you. Please just go look pitiful somewhere else.”


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Talking Turkey Can Still Get You A Refund

, , , , | Right | September 21, 2018

(It’s the day after Thanksgiving, and to our surprise we see a customer holding what appears to be a huge ball of aluminum foil. She is visibly upset as she approaches our customer service desk.)

Coworker: “Hello, what can I do for you today?”

Customer: *slams the huge ball of aluminum foil on the desk* “You guys sold me a bad turkey!”

(She opens up the ball of aluminum foil to reveal the turkey bones of her last night Thanksgiving meal — ONLY the bones.)

Coworker: “I’m sorry to hear that. What was wrong with it?”

Customer: “I don’t know, but when I finished preparing and cooking it, it didn’t taste good.”

Coworker: *looks down at the bones with confusion and disbelief* “Where’s the turkey?”

Customer: “Are you stupid? It’s right here!” *pointing to the bones*

Coworker: “Yeah, but where’s the meat?”

Customer: “We ate it last night; now, are you going to help me or not?!”

Coworker: “So, let me get this straight. You bought a turkey from us that you prepared yourself, and cooked yourself, and you didn’t like how it tasted, and now you want to return it?”

Customer: “Exactly!”

(In genuine disbelief at how absurd the customer was being, my coworker called a manager to deal with the situation. Unfortunately, because of our “customer is always right ” policy, not only did the customer get a full refund, but she got a brand new turkey, AND the personal phone number of the store chef so that he could talk her through the steps on how to PROPERLY prepare and cook a turkey.)

Carting Off All The Crazy Customers

, , , , , | Right | September 21, 2018

(A coworker that works as a “carry out,” meaning he helps customers out with heavy items and gathers carts, comes in shaking his head and giving me his famous, “You’re not going to believe me,” expression. It is mildly busy. Keep in mind that we get a lot of soccer moms in the store, as well as elderly people.)

Me: “What happened?” *dreading this answer*

Coworker: “Someone parked inside the cart corral.”

Me: “Again?” *this happens a lot*

Coworker: “It gets better… There are at least five or six carts in that corral.”

Me: “Are you f****** serious?”

Coworker: *calls our head manager about it*

(The licence is announced over the store speakers. It gets better still…)

Me: “Dare I ask how?”

Coworker: “There is someone in the car. An adult… not a kid.”

(We tell our manager and the customer comes up. They’re in their late 30s or early 40s.)

Manager: “I’m sorry, but your car is in our cart corral; you need to move it.”

Customer: “Why? I’m not blocking anyone. Besides, I have someone waiting for me.”

Manager: “It is in our cart corral. It’s blocking my employees outside from doing their job. Please move it, immediately.”

Customer: “I’m shopping!”

Manager: “Please, you need to move your car. It’s not in a designated parking spot. We need those carts, and you cannot stay parked there.”

(The customer eventually moved their car. But it took my poor manager twenty minutes to explain to them why they couldn’t park there. And they STILL didn’t understand what was wrong.)


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