Unfiltered Story #187651

, , | Unfiltered | February 28, 2020

I work at a store that sells a number of chicken products. A customer walks up while I am serving another and asks for two cappuccinos. I was sure I had misheard him, and as I’m fairly new there figure maybe he is a regular I haven’t met and that my boss might know what’s going on. So I direct him to my boss.

Customer: I need my two cappuccinos!
Boss: We sell chicken.
Customer: No, I just paid for my cappuccinos! I need them!
Boss (pointing at our display cabinet): But we don’t sell them, we sell chicken.

It took a few minutes for him to be convinced, even though there is nothing to suggest that we sell any kind of coffee. He walked off, and a few minutes later re-appeared at a table his partner had been waiting at with two cappuccinos in hand.

You Cannot Appease The Cheese

, , , , | Right | February 18, 2020

(Part of my job is to mark down low-coded stock and remove anything that has passed its use-by date. I usually put anything to be dumped into a crate and remove it from the shop once finished. This particular day, a woman comes up to the reduced bays and starts rifling through the reduced items. She then spots the out-of-date stock in the crate and makes to go through it.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but that stuff is no good; I can’t sell it to you.”

Customer: “But I need some cheese. Can’t you just let me have it?”

Me: “No, sorry. Once a product is out of date, it’s illegal to sell it, so I can’t let you take it.”

Customer: “But you could give it to me, right? I could just take it, right?”

Me: “No, sorry. Same deal. I can’t give it to you or sell it to you.”

Customer: “But I could just take it, right? If I just took some, I could just not say anything, right?”

Me: “No. All it would take is for you to return it and say it was out of date and I would lose my job. They’re pretty strict on this kind of stuff and I’m not risking my job for a few dollars of out-of-date cheese.”

(The customer then tries to reach past me to get at the out-of-date stock; I have to physically block her from taking the stock.)

Customer: “That’s so wasteful. I bet it just goes in the bin. I can’t believe you’d rather throw it out than just give it away.”

Me: “That’s the company’s policy, not mine. In any event, I can’t let you take anything.” 

(I then had to leave the shop floor and take the stock out the back as she would not take the hint that she couldn’t have the out-of date-stock. She later complained to a manager that I wouldn’t give her reduced stock, neglecting to mention the stock was out of date. When questioned, I explained the situation to my manager who said I did the right thing to refuse her as she could have easily tried to return it, claiming it was out of date and costing me my job.)

1 Thumbs

Unfiltered Story #184535

, , | Unfiltered | February 2, 2020

(I’m mostly through serving a middle-age gentleman a take-away lasagne. Up until now, the transaction has been pleasant and I feel I’ve been a helpful and kind server, letting him know of various options and answering his high volume of questions in a patient manner.)

Me: “Okay, so just the lasagne and the energy drink today?”

Customer: *mutters something unintelligible*

Me: “Sorry?”

Customer: *mutters some more*

Me: “I’m sorry, I’m having trouble hearing you. What are you saying?”

Customer: *more muttering*

(I decide not to push the matter and give him his total. The customer continues to mutter under his breath, but I can’t make out any of what he’s saying.)

Me: “Here’s your change. Enjoy your meal!”

Customer: *mutters some more, staring at me*

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t hear what you’re saying.”

(I then lean forward really close so I can hear him.)

Customer, in an angry voice: I said ‘why are you in such a b*tchy mood?’.

I am utterly taken-aback, especially since he sounds so angry and I’ve never really received complaints before.

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise that’s how I was coming across.”

Customer: “I didn’t ask for an apology. I asked why you’re in such a b*tchy mood.”

Me: “Well, I don’t know what to say. I’m not in a bad mood. I’m sorry if that’s how it’s seemed.”

Customer: “Nah, you’re just a b*tch.”

Me: “Um…well, I’m sorry you feel that way. I thought I was being quite nice. Anyway, here’s your lasagne. I really hope you enjoy it.”

(The customer grumbled some more and then walked off scowling. But I noticed him standing outside staring at me for several minutes afterwards. It was actually rather scary!

Dark Skin Means Having To Be Thick-Skinned

, , , , | Right | January 17, 2020

(It’s my very first day on the job at a big office supply store. I am trailing the team leader of my department around, watching him assist customers. It’s relevant to this story that he has very dark skin, but speaks with the standard accent of this city; it would be safe to bet he was born and raised here. A customer approaches and addresses me.)

Customer: “Excuse me. Could you please help me find [product]?”

Coworker: “Certainly, sir, I’ll help you with that! Please follow me.”

(The customer gives me a confused look.)

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, first-day training, just learning the ropes! [Coworker] will be able to assist you.”

(My coworker leads us to the product, and then spends a good few minutes answering questions about the product, helping the customer decide which is the right one to buy, and generally being an excellent help with exceptional product knowledge. The customer picks his product off the shelf, and then, as he is about to walk away, he turns to me.)

Customer: “I’m very impressed. He did a very good job for his first day; you must be an excellent trainer!” *turns to my coworker, and in a slow voice someone would use to address someone who can’t speak English* “Gooood jobbb! You did VE-RY WELL! Good luck at NEW JOB!”

(The customer walked away happily, leaving my coworker and I speechless and shaking our heads in disbelief, especially since he had just carried on an intelligent, lengthy conversation with the customer.)

1 Thumbs

Getting Their Guitar Strings Crossed

, , , , , , | Legal | December 6, 2019

My father told me this story from when he worked in a pawnshop in the 1980s.

The pawnshop specialises in musical instruments and equipment and is the largest second-hand dealer of those goods in the city. One day, a friend of Dad’s wants to pawn a 1970s Ibanez Les Paul-type guitar with a sunburst finish. It doesn’t have a serial number — not unusual for Ibanez at the time — but it has some identifying marks: belt buckle scratches on the back and a small Brazilian flag sticker on the back of the neck. The deal is made and his friend walks away with the money.

As the months go on, Dad’s friend doesn’t come back for the guitar, so Dad calls up and tells him that it will have to go to auction. It fails to meet the reserve price at auction, so Dad calls him up again and says it will go on the shop floor for sale but that if he wants it back he can come in and pay for it — at a discount — before it’s sold.

One day, a man walks in and sees the guitar on display. The man claims it is his and describes it to dad in detail — the scratches, the sticker — without touching it. Dad calls the police and a detective from the theft division is sent out. The guitar is taken as evidence and Dad’s friend is subsequently charged with dealing in stolen goods.

Some months later, another man walks in wanting to sell a guitar. It is a 1970s Ibanez Les Paul-type guitar with a sunburst finish, belt buckle wear on the back, a Brazilian flag sticker on the back of the headstock, and with the same case and accessories as the other guitar.

Dad stalls the second man and is able to convince him to get a coffee across the street while they do additional ID checks. Then, he calls the police and speaks to the detective, who confirms that the original guitar is still in evidence.

The detective comes to the shop with the original guitar. It is confirmed that there are two nearly identical guitars.

Then, the customer who claimed the original guitar was his walks in!

Dad suggests to the detective that the customer plays both guitars and tells them which is actually his. The customer confirms that the second guitar is his, because he had adjusted the string height to be lower than the other guitar.

The man trying to sell the second guitar is charged and Dad’s friend is cleared.

We’re not sure why the two guitars were identical, but we suspect that there was one owner who bought them new and sold them separately. This would explain the similar belt buckle scratches and the Brazilian flag stickers.

1 Thumbs