(I am the customer in this story. I walk into my local coffee shop this morning and notice that one of the menu TVs is showing a Blue Screen of Death.)
Me: “I wasn’t expecting to see that on your menu.”
Barista: “Yeah, we have a new Blue Screen of Death Latte. It tastes like a burnt out computer.”
Me: “Mmm… Silicon Dioxide.”
Barista: “Yummy.”
Customer: “Hey, my friend works for [Company I work for]. Can I get a discount?”
Me: “Ah, no, sir. Your friend would have to be the one making the rental.”
Customer: “Well, can you be my friend?”
Me: “That’s not how it works, sir.”
Customer: “No, really, let’s be friends! I’m [Customer]! What’s your name?”
Me: “I’m [My Name], and I think we should get back to—”
Customer: “Now, hold on, what’s your last name?”
Me: “I’m a [Company] employee, sir.”
Customer: “So they don’t have last names at [Company]?”
Me: “Sir, do you want to finish this reservation? I can’t give you a discount.”
Customer: “Well, that’s cold. What kind of friend are you?”
Customer: “And can I have a pound of the monster cheese?”
Me: “Excuse me? What kind of cheese?”
Customer: “The monster cheese. This one.”
Me: “Oh, you mean the muenster.”
Customer: “Oh, yeah, but, well, you know, I don’t know how to pronounce that. It’s too hard. Is it ‘manster’? ‘Minster’?”
Me: “No, ma’am. It’s ‘muenster.’”
Customer: “Yeah, but I don’t know how to pronounce it. Is it ‘mo-an-ster’? ‘Moon-ster’?”
Me: “Ma’am, I just told you how to pronounce it. It’s ‘muenster.’”
Customer: “Yeah, but it’s too hard to pronounce! Is it ‘mon-aster’? Is it ‘minister’?”
Me: “No, ma’am. It’s ‘muenster.’”
Customer: “Well, however you say it, I want a pound.”
(In the UK we have implemented a 5p charge on carrier bags; this is to help reduce the number of carrier bags going into landfills. Our store had implemented this well before the other stores. If a customer came in for one item that was easy to carry or put in pocket/handbag, no carrier bag was offered, yet if they had sufficient items, you would offer a carrier bag but explain it would cost them 5p. A very posh looking woman enters the store, walks up the sweets aisle, picks up a small chocolate bar and comes over to my till.)
Me: “Hello, did you find everything you needed today?”
Customer: *said in a posh voice but also very belittling* “Yes, that will be all.”
Me: “Okay, that is [price], please.”
Customer: “Give me a carrier bag.”
Me: “Okay, but carrier bags are 5p now, what with our store’s initiatives to—”
Customer: *cuts me off* “I AM NOT PAYING FOR A CARRIER BAG!”
Me: “I’m sorry, but it’s just company policy—”
Customer: “I WILL NOT PAY FOR A CARRIER BAG! I HAVE ASKED YOU FOR ONE AND I WOULD LIKE A CARRIER BAG SUITABLE FOR MY PURCHASE!”
(A queue has built up now and I am beginning to lose my temper. Suddenly an idea pops in my head.)
Me: “One moment, please.”
(I walk out of my till, and walk over to the fruit and veg section nearby, pick up a small plastic bag that would be used to place small amounts of loose fruit or veg in. I walk back to the till and place the chocolate bar inside the bag and hand it to the customer.)
Me: “There we go. So, that was [price], please.”
Customer: “WHAT IS THAT?”
Me: “Well, it is a carrier bag suitable for the small nature of your product and will not cost you a penny extra on your [price], please.”
(The queue of people are making comments about how silly she has been, asking for a carrier bag for a chocolate bar and refusing to pay for a one.)
Customer: “I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER!”
(The manager is called down, and the story was told from both sides with other customers backing me up as she was accusing me of yelling and swearing. The customer was basically told the same thing that I was trying to say about the carrier bags. She admitted defeat but told my manager she wanted this logged as an official complaint against me. The manager pulled me to one side saying by company policy they are meant to give me a verbal warning but that they found it so funny that no such action would take place.)
(I work as a cashier for a local sporting goods store. On this particular day, we have two managers on the floor, as well as several other employees. During a lull, one of the managers and my relief cashier step outside to hang large sale signs in our windows. While I’m working the register, a haggard-looking man comes in with a box of running shoes and asks to exchange them. Our system requires a manager code to process any returns, so I call the remaining manager to the counter to start the process. As we wait for my manager, I open up the shoe box to inspect the contents. While it IS a brand that we sell, the shoes are a color and model that I’ve never seen before.)
Me: *to manager* “This man would like to return these shoes.”
Manager: *customer* “Okay. Do you happen to have a receipt for them?”
Customer #1: “No, I don’t.”
(Since he doesn’t have a receipt, we’re required to ask for his ID for loss prevention purposes. As my manager looks his ID over, I scan the shoes. Sure enough, neither the bar code or model number show up anywhere in our inventory. This isn’t terribly uncommon, since our store is located a few blocks away from another brand of sporting goods store, so people do occasionally mix us up.)
Manager: “I’m sorry, sir. These shoes aren’t in our inventory and this model isn’t carried by our company. We can’t return them.”
Customer #1: “That’s fine. I understand.”
(The customer takes his mystery shoes and leaves, and I go back to my usual duties. Not two minutes later, another haggard-looking man walks into the store and comes up to my counter.)
Me: “Hello. How can I help you today?”
Customer #2: *places a pair of ski goggles on my counter* “I bought these a couple of weeks ago and I’d like to return them. I never got around to using them.”
(There are two things sketchy about his statement. One: It’s mid-August. Any and all of our snow sports equipment was packed up and shipped back to our distribution center in April. Two: His ‘unused’ ski goggles are in very rough shape. The lenses are scratched so badly it looks like he’s been cleaning them with steel wool. I call up my manager again.)
Manager: “Hi. What can I do for you?”
Customer #2: “I’d like to return these. I bought them a couple of weeks ago and I’ve never used them.”
Manager: *equally suspicious* “I see. Well, let me check my computer and see what I can do for you.”
(My manager takes the goggles and starts typing in the bar code and model numbers into our inventory system. Despite being suspicious about the whole thing, I ask for the customer’s ID in case we do need to start a return. On the sly, however, I manage to write down the customer’s name on a small piece of paper and tuck it away. It is at this exact moment that I watch my relief cashier, who had been standing outside with the other manager, come rushing into the store and bolt for the back room. Seconds later, the phone next to the cash registers rings. My manager answers it, listens for a moment, then hangs up. He takes the ski goggles and hands them back to Customer #2.)
Manager: “I’m sorry, sir. We can’t return the goggles. They’re not coming up in our system.”
Customer #2: “They have to come up. I bought them from here.”
Manager: “I’m sorry. My system isn’t recognizing the model number or bar code. I can’t take them back.”
Customer #2: “Look again. I just want a return. I’ve never used these things!”
Manager: *picks up goggles and hold them up to the light* “Are you sure? These look really banged up.”
Customer #2: “No, I’ve never used them.”
Manager: “I mean, look at the lenses. They’re really scratched.”
Customer: “They’re fine. I was just cleaning them with my shirt to wipe the dirt off. I didn’t want to return them with dirt all over them.”
Manager: “I’m really sorry. We can’t take them back.”
(Despite Customer #2’s insistence, my manager declines the return. He’s forced to leave after a line of irritated customers starts to form behind him. Once he’s out the door, I hand my manager the slip of paper with Customer #2’s name on it. He takes it and heads into the main office. After the line dies down, my relief cashier comes up to the register.)
Coworker: “Are they gone?”
Me: “Who?”
Coworker: “The two rough-looking guys who needed returns.”
Me: “Yeah, they’re gone. Why?”
(As it turned out, there had been a van full of sketchy-looking people parked in our store’s parking lot that my coworker and second manager had been watching. They watched Customer #1 leave the van, walk into our store, then walk back out once his return was denied. Once Customer #1 re-entered the van, Customer #2 climbed out and walked into our store. My coworker told me that she had been the one my manager was talking to on the phone and was warning him about van full of ‘returns.’ We haven’t seen any of them since.)
