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How To Ruin Someone’s Day For 73 Cents

, , , , , | Right | May 18, 2022

I am having a rough day with my store’s new manager changing my availability — the opposite of what we talked about, so I am crying about it during my lunch break. I get back from lunch and this is the first customer I help.

Customer: “Having a rough day?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Customer: “I can tell. That’s unfortunate.”

I smile at him.

Me: “That will be $4.00.”

I ring the customer up and he pays. I am handing him his receipt.

Customer: “$4.00? The card says $2.99.”

I go to point out the tax on his receipt when I notice he donated $0.73 to kid-cents which basically just donates money to kids by rounding up to the nearest dollar.

Me: “Oh, you must have pushed the button—”

Customer: *Interrupting me* “I didn’t push a button.”

Me: “The only way for this to show up on your receipt is if you pushed the button—”

Customer: *Interrupts me again* “Where is your manager?”

Me: “I am—”

Customer: “I want corporate’s number.”

Me: “Sir, I can return—”

Customer: “Corporate’s number and your name.”

I give corporate’s number.

Customer: “And your name?”

I’m staring at him because he flipped a switch from being super nice to being aggressive and demanding.

Customer: “Don’t just stare at me.”

Me: “My name is on the back of the receipt.”

I show him where.

Customer: “Tell me your name!”

I tell him my name.

Customer: “Now was that so hard?”

I turned my body so he could only see the side of my face and I locked my register. My cashier was standing behind me witnessing all of this. I was physically shaking and holding back tears. I heard the customer leave, and as soon as the doors closed, I started sobbing. I excused myself to the office and cried there for fifteen minutes. This guy knew I was having a rough day and decided to make it worse.

This Shouldn’t Be A Workplace Hazard

, , , , | Right | May 18, 2022

I see a sign inside a Tokyo restaurant:

Sign: “Do not touch our waitresses, ask for their contact information, or wait for them outside. This restaurant will not be responsible for any injuries happening to anyone who ignores this warning.”

Duly noted, yikes!

I Can’t Believe It’s About Butter

, , , , , , | Right | May 18, 2022

I work for a multinational company that has a hand in home appliance insurance. We sell repair plans to people who need their fridge, freezer, or washing machine fixed, or people who want to insure their new TV, etc. Our call volume is through the roof at the time of the first lockdown, so we prioritise our customers who need appliances repaired for such things as storing medical equipment.

Today is a hectic day. I get a call from a rather irate but well-spoken lady. 

Customer: “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all morning. I just don’t know what to do anymore. Can you help?!”

Me: *Bracing myself* “I’ll try my best.”

Customer: “I went to [High-End Supermarket] and purchased their spreadable butter but… and it… it just… it just won’t spread. I’ve ripped holes in all my sandwiches! Tell me, which shelf should I be putting my butter on in my fridge? Is there a specific shelf?”

It’s worth mentioning before I give you my reply that the call before this was from an elderly chap whose washing machine broke down and needed repairing as they needed bedding regularly due to a medical condition. The call before that was from an upset mother whose fridge freezer had broken down and contained her young daughter’s insulin.

This lady not only called to ask for something that could be found on Google in ten seconds, but she had to have lied on the automated options to get through to the priority line, taking the place of someone who actually needed help.

Me: “Did you really call to ask which shelf to put your butter on? I would refer back to the manufacturer of the butter for their guidance or better still, the manufacturer of your fridge freezer. Stay safe and goodbye.” *Click*

Welcome To Retail, Part 6

, , , , | Right | May 18, 2022

I am a new worker at a very large clothing store, being taught by a floor manager how the men’s changing rooms work. One coworker comes over to us, looking annoyed.

Coworker: “Code brown in changing room four.”

Floor Manager: “Does it need attention right now or is it going to start bothering other customers even if it’s closed off?”

Coworker: “Let’s just say the situation is… fluid.”

Floor Manager: “Typical. Okay, I’ll go over and deal with it. Please finish onboarding [My Name].”

The floor manager angrily stalks off. I can’t wait any more and have to ask:

Me: “Code brown is—”

Coworker: “—someone taking a dump in the changing room, yes.”

Me: “That happens often enough it needs its own code?”

Coworker: “Oh, my sweet summer child. That’s just one code. Code yellow is pee. Code green is vomit. Code white is… well, something that you only deal with in the men’s changing rooms.”

Me: *Eyes wide* “Oh…”

Coworker: “Oh, that’s nothing. The poor girls in the women’s changing room are always getting code reds!”

Related:
Welcome To Retail, Part 5
Welcome To Retail, Part 4
Welcome To Retail, Part 3
Welcome To Retail, Part 2

Fighting Creepy With Crazy

, , , , , , , | Friendly | May 17, 2022

I work as the sole attendant at a twenty-four-hour gas station during the overnight shifts. It’s typically pretty quiet, but it clearly isn’t tonight.

While I’m handling a guy getting scratch-offs, two customers come into the store roughly at the same time. One is this tall dude with a scowl on his face, and the other is a regular I know works nearby because of her fast food uniform and because we chill during the quiet hours and talk about customer horror stories.

Tall Dude is eyeing the Fast Food Girl and sort of following her around while she’s browsing some racks looking at chips, and she gets in line and pulls out her phone. Tall Dude steps in front of her while she’s looking at her phone, and he just snaps for no reason and pushes her shoulder.

Tall Dude: “HEY!”

She looks up.

Tall Dude: “Smile already! Stop looking like such a b****!”

The scratch-off guy and I are looking at both of them and each other like, “What the heck was that for?” Fast Food Girl just looks at Tall Dude for a moment… and smiles.

Then, she starts shrieking like a chimp on drugs, rips off her coat and uniform shirt — she is wearing clothes underneath — and proceeds to grab a nearby loaf of bread and start HUMPING IT without breaking eye contact with the dude. She’s still screaming. The bread bursts open and starts falling out onto the floor, and she starts grabbing fistfuls of it and rubbing it on her chest, stuffing bread down her pants, and cramming bread into her mouth and spitting it out while still screaming.

Tall Dude freaks out and runs. Fast Food Girl starts beating her chest like Tarzan. My scratch-off customer and I just stare in shock.

The second the door closes behind Tall Dude, Fast Food Girl straightens her hair and clothes out.

Fast Food Girl: “Can I have a broom to clean this up, please? And I’ll pay for the bread.”

Scratch-Off Dude is cracking up now that the craziness is over, and he helps kick some of the bread from under the shelf so she can clean it up.

Fast Food Girl: “That dude is a daily regular at [Fast Food Place], and his favorite pastime is to abuse staff both on the clock and off in the parking lot. He even followed me here! Threateningly humping a loaf of bread at him was much more cathartic than punching him in the throat.”

So far, she hasn’t seen him since, so I guess it was more effective, too.