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The customer is NOT always right!

A Pain In The Ask

, , | Right | February 23, 2008

(This customer bought a couple of packs of white t-shirts and socks.)

Me: “Your total is $28.77.”

Customer: “Were the shirts on sale?”

Me: “Yes, they were $2 off.”

Customer: “How do you know?”

Me: “…because that’s what the sale price is. See? It shows it here on the register screen.”

Customer: “Oh okay. But were they on sale?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Okay. Were the socks on sale?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Our sales change weekly and this week these socks aren’t on sale.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Because they aren’t on sale this week.”

Customer: “But why?”

Me: “I don’t know…corporate decides the sales.”

Customer: “Oh okay. What’s the total?”

Me: “$28.77.”

(The customer gives me $40 and I give him his $11.23. I used two $5 bills instead of a 10 because I didn’t have any 10s in my till.)

Customer: “I want a ten, I don’t want two fives!”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t have any tens in my drawer. I only have fives.”

Customer: “Why do you think that is?”

Me: “Well, when I get change from my supervisors they just give me fives. They don’t usually have any tens. And also customers just don’t usually pay with tens.”

Customer: “But why do you think that is?”

Me: “I don’t really know. Probably because the customers usually get money from ATMs and they only give out twenties.”

Customer: “Why do you think that is?”

Me: “I don’t know. I guess the banks just think that people really just need twenties.”

Customer: *frustrated* “Wait, why are we talking about banks?”

Me: “I don’t know, you brought it up.”

Customer: “I don’t want two fives, I want a ten!”

Me: “Go ask at customer service. They might have some.”

Customer: “Why do you think that is?”

(I call the manager who gets the guy his ten. He finally leaves after asking me again if the socks were on sale.)

Problem Exists Between Chair And Keyboard

, , | Right | February 22, 2008

(I had just started a new IT job for a large school district and was not expecting the level of stupidity I would be dealing with on a regular basis. Within my first three weeks, I receive a phone call from a school.)

Clerk: “Hi, I am trying to use this new system on these computers and I’m attempting to make my account. My Principal got me started but now I am stuck.”

Me: “What seems to be the problem?”

Clerk: “Well, it is asking me for First Name and I have no idea what I am supposed to type.”

Me: “You’re at the registration screen? Um… well I think you are supposed to enter your name.”

Clerk: “Oh… okay… wait. No, it’s asking me for something else.”

Me: “What now?”

Clerk: “It says… last… name… what do I put here?”

Me: “Probably your last name.”

Clerk: “Oh, thanks… oh Jesus, now it’s asking for my phone number! What the h*** am I suppose to put here! Why can’t I just do it the old fashioned way?”

Me: “You mean pen and paper?”

Clerk: “Yes! It was so much easier. These fancy computers are just so complicated. I never understand what I am supposed to do!”

(I bit my tongue and just let her ramble on about how ‘First Name’ was such an incredibly hard concept to grasp.)

Mmmm, Cherry-Flavored Maxi Pads

, , | Right | February 22, 2008

(Around Easter, stacking poorly transported eggs and bunnies onto a shelf. A young girl, around sixteen, approaches me.)

Customer: “Can you tell me where the confectionery is?”

(I am slightly bemused, as we are standing next to the confectionery aisle.)

Me: “Yes, it is just there.”

(She looks and furrows her brow.)

Customer: “No. Confectionery.”

Me: *pointing again* “Yes, there.”

(She looks even angrier now.)

Customer: “No. The confectionery!”

Me: “Yes… there.”

Customer: “Nooo. The confectionery, like tampons and stuff!”


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Zero Short Term Memory, Part 2

, , | Right | February 22, 2008

(There is an ID check to enter the lab and to print.)

Me: “Hi, can I see your ID, please?”

Guy: “No, I don’t need ID to come in here.”

Me: “Yes, at this lab it is required.”

Guy: “But I don’t need an ID to come in!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I really need your ID, or I can’t let you come into the lab.”

Guy: “Oh I need ID to come in? Why didn’t you just ask me for it?!”

Me: *headdesk*

F*** The Benefits, We Want Combat Pay

, , | Right | February 22, 2008

(We have this awful woman who regularly shops at our store. One day we were extremely busy and a coworker of mine is struggling to fit shoes for three children.)

Mean Lady: “Bring me this size!”

Coworker: *disappears out back for a few seconds* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it appears we’ve sold our last pair.”

Mean lady: *throws shoebox at coworker’s head, hitting her squarely in the forehead*

Coworker: “Ouch…”

Mean Lady: “I hate you!”


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