What Do You Mean?

, , , , | Right | April 19, 2018

(I manage a very popular athletic shoe store. A lady in her mid to late fifties comes in with her two grown sons, one of whom I recognize from the summer camp for autistic individuals where I volunteer.)

Customer: “Can you help my son?”

Me: “Yes, of course. What can I do for you?”

Customer: “He needs these in a size 9.5 wide.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we only carry standard width. But this style runs a little wide; would he like to try them, anyway, just in case?”

Customer: “[Son], do you really want them?”

Son: “Uh-huh.”

Customer: “No, I don’t think he wants them. We will try a size 9.5, though. And a 13 in this one for my other son.”

(I go in back and find the shoes, and when I come out I set both boxes on the bench.)

Me: “Here is the size 13, but unfortunately I didn’t have a 9.5 in the other one. I brought out a 10, though; would you like to give it a shot?”

Customer: “Where is the 13?”

Me: “Right here, ma’am.”

Customer: “Don’t be rude! Let my son get this one in 9.5, instead.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s the same shoe. I only had 10, remember?”

Customer: “That is not the same shoe; open your eyes. This one is a little higher.”

(I take both shoes from the shelf and hold them side by side.)

Me: “No, I’m afraid they are the exact same. I can maybe check to see if we have 9.5 in the other color, though?”

Customer: “Son, do you really want the size 10?”

Son: “Uh-huh!”

Customer: “Okay. I will take the 13 and the 10.”

(I take the shoes to the register and ring her up. After she pays…)

Customer: “Why were you so mean to me?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “You were so mean to me. You are just like my husband. He is so mean to me, and then when I get angry, he says that I am the one being mean. Why would you be so mean to me? I am a customer. I spend thousands of dollars here; I am in here every week. You shouldn’t be mean to me.”

(This is the first time I’ve ever seen her, and she has only let her sons look at clearance shoes.)

Me: “I apologize if I came across as mean, ma’am. I am suffering from really terrible allergies, so my voice is a little harsh.”

Customer: “No, you are just a mean-spirited girl. I don’t think my son wants these after all. I want to return them.”

Me: “Okay, I just need to take some information to do a return. Can I get your first and last name, and your phone number?”

Customer: “So you can call me and Goggle me and keep being mean? I don’t think so! Just give me my money back!”

(Yes, she did say, “Goggle.” I did the return, just for the sake of getting her out of my store. My district manager called later to say that he received a complaint about me, but never found out what the complaint was because the caller started accusing him of being mean to her.)

Diversity Has Hatred Of Racism In Common

, , , , | Right | April 19, 2018

(It’s my third day, and my colleagues are telling me stories about bad customers and workers. One of my floor colleagues is Turkish but speaks perfect Dutch — the local language — with an accent.)

Turkish Colleague: “This guy is the biggest racist you’ll ever meet. The moment I open my mouth, he screams, ‘GET AWAY FROM ME, TURKISH PIECE OF S***!’ He’s banned from the restaurant, but he isn’t getting the message and keeps– Speak of the devil, there he is.”

Manager: “I’ll go tell him.”

(I’m part Russian, and I normally speak without a trace of an accent, but I can mimic one perfectly.)

Me: “Boss, might I try?”

Manager: “Sure. If you think you can get him out of here.”

(I go up to the man and start speaking Russian.)

Man: “SPEAK GOD-DANG DUTCH, YOU A**HOLE!”

Me: *with the most comical and thick accent I can do* “Very sorry, sir. I forget I should do Dutch. Table for one?”

Man: “F*** you!” *storms out*

Manager: “That went better than expected.”

Me: “Honestly, I didn’t expect him to leave. I was about to call [Turkish Colleague] to step in if he wanted someone else.”

Some People Can Be Real Email Name Nazis

, , , , | Right | April 19, 2018

(I’m the customer in this scenario. I’m around 16, shopping in an alternative-clothing store. The staff are all people with various tattoos, piercings, and dyed hair. The cashier is clearly gay, is wearing all black, and has a nose piercing. My hair is short, and I’m wearing a band shirt, skinny jeans, and combat boots.)

Cashier: “Would you like to sign up with our rewards program? You get coupons and all kinds of deals year-round.”

Me: “Sure, why not?”

Cashier: “Okay, can I have your email?”

(Note, my last name is my email.)

Me: *tells him my email*

Cashier: *looking very scared all of a sudden and stepping away from the register* “N-nazi?”

(The last four letters of my last name are N-A-Z-I.)

Me: *realizing he thinks I’m a white supremacist* “Oh, no, I’m Jewish and that’s my last name.”

Cashier: “Oh!” *starts chuckling nervously*

Me: *laughing* “And if it wasn’t, I probably wouldn’t be shopping here!”

Cashier: “Oh, yeah, fair point!”

Needs A Profane Amount Of Restroom Breaks

, , , , , | Right | April 19, 2018

(At our restaurant, which closes at 4:00 am and opens again at 10:00 am, the bathrooms close at midnight. They open again for neither love nor money, so at 2:00 am, I’m cleaning one of them.)

Random Dude: *kind of angrily* “Yo, can I use the restroom?”

Me: “Restrooms are closed. There’s a public restroom at the end of this building; it’s around the corner, on the left.”

(The guy mumbles something I can’t understand about his friend and the public restrooms, to the eventual effect of, “I don’t want to use those.”)

Me: “Restrooms are closed.”

Random Dude: “When do they open?”

Me: “10:00 am.”

Random Dude: *suddenly shouting* “Well, f*** you, too, b****!”

(I shrug and finish cleaning up the bathroom, and then come back behind the counter.)

Random Dude: *in the middle of talking to one of the managers* “That’s him! That’s the guy! He said, ‘F*** you! Restrooms are closed!’”

Me: “Sir, I did not use such language.”

(I continue to the back to put up the cleaning supplies, and when I return to the kitchen…)

Manager #1: “Did you really say that?

Me: “No, I did not.” *I relay the exchange* “—and then he started screaming profanities at me.”

Manager #2: “Yeah, I didn’t give him anything. I gave him the number to the franchising office, told him we were store number [other location’s number], and said your name was [Not My Name].”

(I nodded and continued with my shift.)

Wishing For Her Hands To Be Bitten

, , , , , , | Right | April 19, 2018

When I was 16 years old, I worked in a children’s museum where I was in charge of the aquarium section. We had a “touch tank” where people could feel sea life. Because the animals are delicate, we had a strict policy that people could only touch animals I had put on trays at the edge of the tanks. Despite this policy, (and numerous prominent signs stating the policy) people would routinely stick their hands in the parts of the tank that were off limits.

One day, a woman came in and proceeded to repeatedly stick her hands into the tank, despite my requests. Finally, I forcefully said, “Ma’am, please don’t stick your hands into that part of the tank, as it distresses the animals.” She pulled her hands out, flicked water in my face, said, “You just need to chill,” and stomped off, cursing about “little s***s who think they know everything.”

Page 5/4,190First...34567...Last
« Previous
Next »