Can’t Strip Off Any Charges

, , | | Right | May 23, 2019

(I’m a personal banker. One of the tellers has just sent a customer over to my desk, as he’s insisting that his balance is lower than it should be. Note: I’m female. Both the customer and I are in our 20s.)

Me: “Good morning! So, you have a question about your account balance?”

Customer: “Yes. When I checked my online banking this morning, I saw charges on there that look a little weird. I think someone hacked my account.”

Me: “No problem. I can look into that for you. I just need to see your ID so I can look up your account.”

(He hands it over, and I pull up his account. I see 10 to 15 charges over a two-day period from multiple adult establishments and bars in another state. I can feel myself starting to blush. Since there are other customers around, I can’t blurt out what I’ve found, so I decide to try jogging his memory.)

Me: “Ah… I think I’ve got some answers for you.”

Customer: “What? What is it?”

Me: “Sir, did you travel to [State] on [dates]?”

Customer: “Sure did. It was my buddy’s bachelor party!”

Me: “Okay, it looks like these charges are coming from [State]. What sort of… um… places did you visit in [State]?”

Customer: “To be honest, I can’t remember.” *laughs* “Are they charges from bars?”

Me: “Yes, there are a few of those.”

Customer: “Okay, those are probably mine. What other places are coming up?”

Me: “Let me turn my computer screen around and I’ll show you.”

Customer: “Why? You can just tell me.”

Me: “I’m really not comfortable with that.”

(I turn my computer screen to face him and wordlessly point at each charge.)

Customer: “I didn’t do those. Nope. Not me.”

Me: “So, you made the charge at [Bar] at 1:00 am, but you didn’t make the charge at… ah… this other place–.” *points at strip club name on the screen* “—at 1:45 am? Did one of your friends get a hold of your card?”

Customer: “D*** it! Okay, I am responsible for all those charges! I remember them! But I didn’t get what I was after. Services were not as described. Can I dispute the charges if that’s the case?”

(My face is now undeniably bright red.)

Me: “Ah, well… since you admit to freely making the charge and using their… services, you’ll have a hard time getting the fraud department to refund your money. I can call them for you and file a dispute, but no guarantees.”

Customer: “Hmm… can you refund the money?”

Me: “I’m not authorized to do that. And even if I was, you just admitted to me that you made the charges yourself so I wouldn’t be allowed to.”

Customer: “FINE. Just leave them. I still think I should get a refund. Services not as described.”

(He walks out. The teller who sent him over emails me.)

Teller: “What were all those charges?”

Me: “Bars and strip clubs. He says services weren’t as described.”

Teller: “EW! I’m so sorry I ever sent him over!”

If Only The Staff Could Say That, Too

, , , , | | Right | May 23, 2019

(This happens right after I finish buying groceries at a well-known, international superstore. I bag and load my own groceries while the lady behind me unloads her cart onto the conveyor. She’s talking on her cell phone at the time and not really paying attention.)

Lady: *behind me in line* “Excuse me? Why aren’t you bagging my groceries?”

(As far as I know, this building has never had baggers. I answer her in the most over-the-top, petulant way I can muster.)

Me: “Because I don’t like you!”

(I proceeded to storm off to the sound of the cashier snorting with laughter.)

Racism Tops Everything

, , , , | | Right | May 23, 2019

(I am working in a small deli. We have a few “signature” sandwiches that are listed with the ingredients — meats, cheese, veggies, sauces — but customers can also make their own; there is a limit on how many toppings they can get. There are three people in line. The first two, both Caucasian, order a signature sandwich and the third, Asian, makes their own. I am Caucasian and I’m making the sandwiches; my coworker, who is Indian, is taking the orders.)

Me: *to the first two customers* “Would both of you like everything on your [Signature Sandwich]?”

Customer #1: “That sounds good, but could you add mayo?”

Customer #2: “Everything with ranch on mine.”

(I finish wrapping theirs while my coworker rings them out.)

Me: *to [Customer #3]* “What toppings would you like on yours?”

Customer #3: “Everything.”

Me: “Your sandwich doesn’t come with toppings; I need to know what you want.”

Customer #3: “I want everything. Everything. All of what you have there.”

Me: “I can’t give you everything. I’m only allowed to give you four toppings of your choice. I just need to know what they are.”

Customer #3: *to coworker* “Why won’t she give me everything on my sandwich? She gave those other two everything on theirs.”

Coworker: “Oh, they both got [Signature Sandwich], which comes with set toppings. You have to tell her what toppings you want.”

Customer #3: “Oh, I understand. I just want lettuce and pickles, then.”

(I finish her sandwich and hand it to her with a forced grin. As I turn away, I hear this little gem.)

Customer #3: “I didn’t know they had ordered specials. I thought she was just racist.”

(After she left, my coworker burst into laughter and I had to excuse myself to the back to fume. I called my district manager and explained what had happened because I was floored at being accused of being racist over sandwich toppings. My manager was legitimately confused because she knows me and my husband… who is Asian. For the record, I don’t agree with our topping limit policy, but I get paid to follow it. I’m not going to lose my job over a few slices of tomato.)

It’s Spreading

, , , | | Right | May 23, 2019

(I’ve just gotten back from lunch when I notice a bedspread that I thought we had sold out of behind our counter. I have been wanting one for my daughter, but the last sold yesterday.)

Me: “Where did that come from?”

Coworker: “It was a return.”

(I pick up it up and notice something not right through the packaging.)

Me: “Did anyone check this?”

Coworker: “No, the customer only just picked it up from layby, but their daughter didn’t like it so they returned it right away.”

Me: “Did they leave the shop with it before returning?”

Coworker: “Yes, but it was less than five minutes. Why?”

Me: “Because this has been washed; we need to check it.”

(I open the package and unfold the spread to reveal a blood stain that someone has tried to bleach out.)

Me: “They swapped it for the new one.”

(I show her before I stuff it in the bin and tie up the bin liner.)

Coworker: “You’re kidding me.” *looks at stain* “Oh, my God, that’s blood. I’m going to wash my hands.” *starts to leave but I beat her to it* “Where are you going, [My Name]? I need to wash my hands.”

Me: “To scrub mine. I touched the d*** thing; you didn’t.”

Coworker: “Oh, right.”

Ewe Should Have Ignored Him

, , , | | Right | May 23, 2019

(I am working the floor, helping a customer. I am talking with a customer when I hear shouting behind me. Sadly, people yelling at children is not unusual so I ignore it and try to help the woman I’m with. After a couple of moments, the customer I am with tells me:)

Customer #1: “I think that a**hole is trying to get your attention.”

(I turn around.)

Customer #2: *standing next to the washroom door* “YOU! ABOUT F****** TIME! OPEN THE S***TER!”

Customer #1: “Help that a**hole; I can wait.”

(I walk towards the washroom.)

Customer #2: “You should be paying attention; I was calling you for twenty minutes.”

Me: “My apologies, sir, I was helping a customer, and normally, when someone needs the washroom, they either go to the front and ask for assistance or walk up to an associate. Polite people don’t yell, ‘You!’ across the store.”

Customer #2: “Why not?”

Me: *now annoyed* “Because a ‘ewe’ is a female sheep; we are human beings, not animals.”

(By now I have the washroom door opened.)

Me: “Do you still need my help or may I return to the woman I was assisting?”

(Without saying anything, he entered the washroom and slammed the door in my face.)

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