(At my place of work we sell various appliances, including vacuums, but no parts.)
Customer: “Hey. Where are your vacuum filters?”
Me: “I’m sorry, but we don’t carry any parts or filters for our vacuums.”
Customer: *storming straight to the vacuums* “Never mind. I’ll just find them myself.”
(Suffice to say, I had to take a moment to realise what just transpired. I didn’t follow him, but I wonder how long he spent looking for those filters.)
(A customer brings a bunch of things from clearance to my register, but hands me three pairs of shoes first. They’re the same brand, same sizes, and the same type of shoe, but different colors: a bright coral, an off-white, and a simple brown. The coral and white shoes are marked at $6.00 each on their boxes, but the brown shoes have no box nor a tag.)
Customer: *before I can say hello* “What are the prices for these shoes?”
(I take the time to examine them to make sure the box matches the shoe, since I’ve caught customers switching boxes to get a cheaper price, but sure enough, the shoes match the boxes and I ring them up.)
Me: “The coral and white shoes are $6 each. Let me check the brown ones—“
Customer: “They’re $6, right?”
Me: “I can’t say for sure; it doesn’t have a tag or a UPC.”
Customer: “But they’re the same shoes!”
Me: “I know, but they’re different colors, and they might be different prices.”
(I call my coworker from the shoe department over, and she examines the shoes.)
Coworker: “That’s weird… I could have sworn there was a tag on these shoes. I’ll go check if it maybe fell off in the clearance section—“
Customer: “It’s $6, right?”
Coworker: “I can’t say. I need to look for the price first.”
(I ring up all the customer’s things while we awkwardly wait. My coworker calls my manager to see if she can look it up at customer service, but since it’s been on clearance for a while we can’t find it anywhere.)
Me: *sighs* “Manager, can I just put the style code in and put it in for $6? They are the same shoe, just different colors.”
Manager: *a little hesitant, but she agrees* “Okay. We did the best we can do, but we’ll have to give it for that price since we can’t find the actual one.”
Customer: *gleeful* “$6?”
Me: “Yeah, since we can’t find the price tag. I’m so sorry for the wait.”
(I realize the customer is short a few bucks to take advantage of a sale, so I let her know, and she quickly leaves the register with her things still on my counter, unpurchased. It’s a slow day and there aren’t any customers, so I didn’t mind waiting a few minutes. My coworker in the shoe department takes the customer’s now empty cart to wheel it away when she stops and pulls something out. It’s the tag for those brown shoes, torn off and left at the bottom. It says it’s on clearance, but for $15.)
Coworker: “Uh, [Manager]?”
Manager: *sees the tag* “Ooh, that stinker!”
Coworker: *to me* “Did she buy the shoes already?”
Me: “No.”
Coworker: “You’re going to have to tell her that we can’t sell her the shoes for that price since we found the tag.” *shakes her head in disappointment* “She knew what she was doing.”
(The customer comes back, and sure enough, that gleeful smile falls when she realizes we found the torn-off tag at the bottom of her cart and we explain that it’s $15.)
Customer: “But they’re the same shoe!”
Manager: “Yes, but they’re different colors, so sometimes they’re different prices.”
Customer: *stares at the shoes forlornly, like she is giving up her firstborn child* “I don’t want them, then.”
(The stupid part in all this was that, had this lady been honest and asked if we could just honor the shoes for the cheaper price, we would have done it. But because she wanted to be sneaky and dishonest about it, she didn’t get it for that price. Lesson learned, hopefully.)
(I am working at the customer service desk when the phone rings:)
Me: “Thank you for calling [Store] customer service. This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”
Caller: “I have a complaint. Are you a manager?”
Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m not a manager but I can call for one. Could you hold?”
Caller: “No, you’re just going to hang up on me. Some b**** at the service desk told me that I can’t do any more returns. That’s bulls***!”
Me: “That’s odd. Did she say why?”
Caller: “I didn’t have a receipt. But I’ve done it before!”
Me: “In order to do a return without a receipt, we need your ID for our records. If you do three non-receipt returns in a rolling six-month period, the system flags your ID and puts a hold on it for ninety days. We can—“
Caller: “That’s so f****** stupid.”
Me: “Sir, I would appreciate it if you stopped swearing at me.”
Caller: *mocking* “Oh. Okay. I’ll stop swearing.”
Me: “Now, I am not a manager but I can—“
Caller: “I want that girl fired!”
Me: “I don’t have the authority to do that, but I can take some basic information and have a manager call you back, or I can put you on hold and get a manager now.”
Caller: “I want to hear you tell that snotty b**** that she is fired!”
Me: “Again, I do not have that authority. Beyond that, I don’t know which associate you’re talking about.”
Caller: “Well, find out!”
Me: “Do you remember anything about the associate or the time you were here?”
Caller: “That’s not my job!”
Me: *fed up* “Okay. Can I put you on hold to get a manager?”
Caller: “No!”
Me: “Can I take your information and have a manager call back?”
Caller: “No!”
Me: “What would you like me to do, sir?”
Caller: “DO SOMETHING!”
Me: “Okay.” *to the wall beside me* “Hey! You’re fired!” *to the customer* “Is that okay, sir?”
Caller: “Finally!” *hangs up*
(I am a high school student that likes to go to the library or somewhere quiet to study. Normally, I would sit in the computer study or teen area, but today there seems to be something wrong with the book scan in both so I head to the adult and study area, where I find this conversation happening.)
Woman: “My kid just wants to borrow a book. Why do I need this stupid card you’re talking about!?”
(The worker is a young lad, just started his job here two weeks ago, and still knows more than the woman fighting with him.)
Worker: “Ma’am, it is the policy that you have to sign up to the library and then get a library card. You cannot borrow a book without having said card to swipe on this machine and then scan the book. This lets us know when you borrowed it and when it needs to be returned, and keeps account of how many books you have borrowed.”
Woman: “I don’t care about this stupid card; my son needs this book!”
(The eight-year-old boy is at the counter, signing up to the library, and I am simply helping him do it as his Mum is a bit preoccupied.)
Worker: “Ma’am, you can’t just take the book; you need to get a library card.”
Woman: “But why?!”
Worker: “Because it is store policy!”
Woman: “Don’t raise your tone at me, young man!”
(I step in, having been coming to this library for years and knowing all the rules and how it works.)
Me: “Ma’am, store policy states you need a library card to take out books. Your son and I, while you were making a fuss over it, already created an account, registered the book, and started reading and doing his school work already. Now, if you’re going to continue to make a big fuss, then I suggest you leave and think about how you talked to this boy when he was stating a fact. Now that you have your card, you can borrow any books; it is a simple three-step verification and can be done in minutes! Now, if you excuse the boy, he is the only worker in this section and there is a line waiting to ask him questions!”
(The woman stayed silent, grabbed her son, and left instantly. On the way out, the little boy turned around and mouthed what I think was, “Sorry,” and waved goodbye. As for the boy who was working, he thanked me a lot and told his manager. We all had a laugh.)
This past Saturday, a couple came through the line at the liquor store where I work. They both looked pretty young so I asked them for IDs. The guy fished his out while the girl mentioned something about hers being in the car. The guy and I stood and watched a little hockey while she went outside.
When she returned, she was all, “We shop here all the time,” pissy before handing me her ID. I looked her straight in the eyes and said, “I could just refuse your sale. Is that what you want?” She grumbled something under her breath while I completed the sale.
She has just earned herself the privilege of being carded by me every single time she comes into the store.
