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Please Do Not Pet The Managers

, , , , , , , | Right | June 17, 2020

I shop at a dollar store near my house frequently. I know pretty much all the employees, and they know me and my service dog. I’m in one day and the manager happens to be ringing me out.

The customer behind me sees my service dog and leans down to pet him.

Me: “Ma’am, please don’t touch him.”

Customer: “Oh, come on! He’s so cute!”

Me: “Yes, and he’s working. Please leave him alone.”

Customer: “You can’t control me! If I want to pet him, I’ll pet him! I don’t care if he’s working!”

The manager speaks up.

Manager: “I’m cute, too. Will you pet me?

The customer looks at him: a six-foot, heavily-built man.

Customer: “Well… I… Hmph!”

Manager: “Yeah, that’s what I thought. If you ain’t gonna pet me, you ain’t gotta pet a working dog.”

And that’s part of why I always shop there!


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Wasteland Not, Want Not

| Right | November 29, 2012

Me: “…and would you like to put a three year warranty on this product? It protects it with us so you don’t have to deal with the manufacturer. ”

Man: “Three years? I only plan on using this until December!”

Me: “Oh, okay. Are you moving or something?”

Man: “Uh, no. Didn’t you hear? The world is going to end in December. Your warranty is useless! You’re just trying to get more money out of me while we still have a system of value! I see what you’re doing!”

Me: *speechless*

Man: “You won’t survive long in the wasteland.”

Me: “Uh huh. You have a nice day, sir.”

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Not Handing Over Justice

| Working | November 19, 2014

(Many cashiers have a pet peeve about customers placing money on the counter when we have our hand ready to take it. Usually this doesn’t bother me much, but one night I am closing my store and it is nearing the end of my shift…)

Me: “Do you have your [Store] card or phone number ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes, I have my card somewhere…”

Me: *reaches hand out to accept her card as she pulls it out of her wallet*

Customer: *throws her card on the belt next to my hand, making it hard for me to pick up*

Me: “Okay, your total comes to $7.59. Will you be paying cash or card this evening?”

Customer: “I think I have some cash on me.”

Me: *once again reaches hand out to accept the cash she has found*

Customer: *throws cash on counter*

Me: “All righty, 41 cents is your change. Would you like your receipt?”

Customer: “Please…” *reaches out hand to take her receipt*

Me: *puts receipt on the counter right next to her hand* “Have a nice night!”

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A Wii Bit Of Borderline Arrogance

, , , , , , | Right | August 18, 2009

Customer: “Do you have any Wiis?”

Me: “No, sir, Wiis are all sold out.”

(Customer pulls out a badge and flashes it briefly.)

Customer: “You sure you don’t have any Wiis?”

Me: “No, sir, no Wiis. What exactly was that badge?”

Customer: “Border Patrol.”

(This being New Hampshire, I have to ask:)

Me: “Which border?”

Customer: “Canadian.”

(Customer walks away with a self-important air.)

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A Bitter Drink With A Sweet After Taste

| Right | October 23, 2013

(Outside the coffee shop where I work, there’s a beggar who sits there just about every day. I always bring him a cup of coffee when it’s quiet. As I am not allowed to bring my own wallet behind the counter, I pay for it at the end of the day before I close the till. On this particular day, a customer I have just finished serving and has been watching me intently, follows me outside.)

Customer: “Excuse me, what the h*** are you doing?”

Me: “I’m bringing this gentleman coffee.”

Customer: “What, for free?”

Me: “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I will pay for it tonight.”

Customer: “What, so you’ll pay for my coffee too?”

Me: “No, sir. Clearly you can afford to buy your own.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! I work hard, I buy the most expensive thing on your menu every day, I pay my taxes, yet I don’t get free coffee! Does your boss know you’re doing this?”

Me: “Yes, sir. He approves.”

Customer: “F*** you. No he doesn’t. He doesn’t want bums walking around with [Brand] cups! I’m going to report you. Who’s your boss?”

(I point to the Catholic church across the street.)

Me: “That guy. If you want to file a complaint, you’ll have to wait. He’s usually only in on Sundays.”

(Amazingly, that was the end of that.)

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