“She Barks” Isn’t Referring To The Dog

(I work at a pet store. A customer comes up behind me and roughly taps me on the shoulder while clearing her throat. I turn to see a woman in her 40s, cradling a snarling Chihuahua in her arms. It snaps and lunges at me. Throughout our conversation, this armpit piranha keeps trying to escape its owner’s grip.)

Me: “Hello! How—”

Customer: “She barks.”

Me: “Oh, a talker, eh? Does that happen more when she greets you, when she’s hungry, or when she plays?”

Customer: “She barks!”

Me: “Okay. We have tons of interactive toys to occupy her, and we offer classes for—”

Customer: “Where are your collars? She needs to learn her manners.”

Me: “Training collars are showcased in aisle eight, but they are locked up.”

Customer: “I’m not trying to steal!”

Me: “No, I know. It’s just policy.”

Customer: *eyes me suspiciously* “Fine. Show me.”

(I take her to the aisle with the showcase and we go over the different kinds. Again, I try to find out why her dog is barking and what she has done about it, but she is adamant that she just wants to buy a collar and go home. I warn her that it won’t be an instant fix, but she insists she knows her dog better than I do. She picks one, purchases it, and leaves. Thinking my ordeal is over, I return to my duties. Two hours later, a manager pages me to the register. I arrive to see the same woman, the dog still on her arm. On the register belt is the collar she purchased, the box and directions shredded.)

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “You sold me s***!”

Manager: “You helped this woman?”

Me: “She wanted a bark collar.”

Customer: “It doesn’t work!”

Me: “It does take a little while for your dog to stop. It’s not an instant fix.”

Customer: “That’s not what you told me! You said this would solve my problems!”

Manager: “[My Name], you know these don’t work right away. Were you thinking of something else?”

Me: “No. I told her they work, but over time. What’s happening when you put it on your dog?”

Customer: “It doesn’t even turn on!”

Manager: “Oh, it’s just defective. That’s easy enough.”

(We exchange her collar for another one and my manager takes her aside to listen to her complaint. When it’s over and she leaves again, my manager looks like he’s about to bang his head on the wall.)

Me: “So… what’s up?”

Manager: “She wanted me to fire you for not telling her she needed to charge the collar.”

Me: “Uh, well, it’s an electric collar and there are no batteries. What did she think it did?”

Manager: “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Me: “It’s literally the first sentence in the instructions.” *looks out the all-glass front of the store* “She’s standing out there.”

Manager: “I know. She’s waiting for me to reprimand you. Please just go look pitiful somewhere else.”