Listening Is Not His Number One Priority

, , , , | Right | April 18, 2019

(I’m working the front counter during the second half of my shift with one of my friends on the register next to me. The lunch rush is finally dying down, when this guy approaches.)

Old Man: “I’d like a number one meal.”

Coworker: “All right, a number one meal. What to drink?”

Old Man: “A number one.”

Coworker: “Yes, sir. A number one. What would you like to drink with that?”

Old Man: “A. Number. One. Meal.”

Coworker: “Yes, sir, but—“

Old Man: “A NUMBER O—“

Me: “SIR! He’s asking you what you’d like to drink!”

Old Man: “Oh. Um. Diet Coke.”

(He didn’t look embarrassed or anything. My coworker thanked me for interrupting the guy and getting him to finally listen.)

Well, Someone Here Should Be Embarrassed…

, , , , | Right | April 15, 2019

(We get people complaining all the time about the prices, which we have no control over. I am ringing an older couple through; they have a couple of items, including one of our more expensive combo ink packages. Their total comes to over $200. They are in the middle of paying when they ask this.)

Wife: “How much was the ink?”

Me: “$142.59.”

Wife: “That’s quite expensive.”

Me: *nodding* “Yeah, I know.”

Husband: “You should be embarrassed.”

Me: *surprised* “Excuse me?”

Husband: *repeats himself*

Me: “Unfortunately, we don’t set the prices.”

Husband: “You should be embarrassed for just having to tell us the price.”

(I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just finished up the transaction. After they left I just kind of laughed with one of my coworkers about it. The only thing that’s embarrassing is that they couldn’t read the price tag on the shelf when they picked it up.)

A Regular A**hole

, , , , | Right | April 11, 2019

(I am working the express lane which is for fifteen items or less. I look up to see a lady with a trolley holding probably about fifty items.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am, but this is the express lane. It’s only fifteen items or less.”

Customer: “Uh, I shop here all the time, so it’s fine.”

(Apparently, courtesy doesn’t apply when you’re a regular.)

Signs: Gotta Hand It To Them

, , , , , | Right | April 10, 2019

(The self-checkouts at my store are notoriously moody. They’re all meant to accept both cash and card as payment, but more often than not, at least one of them decides it won’t accept cash anymore for whatever reason. When this happens, we put a sign up informing customers that it’s only taking card until we can work out how to appease it. As I’m sure anyone who’s ever worked in retail would know, though, people don’t notice signs. Over time, we add more and more signs. At the time of this story, we’ve taken to putting about four signs on a broken register, including one that completely covers the place customers would usually insert their cash, literally blocking them from inserting any money into the machine. You think this would be enough, right?)

Customer: “Excuse me.”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “The machine won’t accept my money.”

(I look to see the customer holding up the “EFT only — no cash” sign that was covering the cash slot with one hand while trying to force in a $20 note with the other.)

Me: “I’m sorry, this machine is cash only.”

Customer: “Oh, really? Where does it say that?”

Me: “On that sign you’re holding up.”

(The customer lets go of the sign, which flops back down into place, and proceeds to read it for the first time.)

Customer: “Oh, I didn’t notice.”

A Picture Of Retail Hell

, , , , , | Right | April 8, 2019

(At my store, if a customer is placed on hold for sixty seconds, the phone starts ringing back to alert the front end that someone is still on hold. I happen to be walking by and hear the phone ringing back, so I make the colossally stupid decision to pick it up and see if I can assist the customer.)

Me: “I’m so sorry for the wait. Who were you holding for?”

Customer: “Jesus Christ! You people have had me on hold for ten minutes! I need help, and don’t transfer me back to that guy! He doesn’t know what he’s doing! Get me someone who knows what they’re g**d*** doing!”

(First, only women are on the front end today, and second, I can see she has been on hold for a whopping 93 seconds.)

Me: “I’m so sorry about that. I’ll help you personally right now, but there’s no need to swear at me.”

Customer: “I didn’t swear.”

Me: “All right, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

Customer: “Ugh! I ordered some things off a registry last week, and one of them isn’t going to come in time for the shower! I need you to print me 5×7 color photos of the items, and I’ll come by to grab them.”

Me: “I apologize for that, ma’am. I can definitely print you pictures, but our printers only do black and white, and they will only print one size.”

Customer: “What?! When I was there last week, the pictures were in color on the screen!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, the website is in color, but again, our printers only do black and white.”

Customer: “Ugh! Fine! It was a platter and a snow blower.”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, could I just have the email address you used to place the order?”

Customer: “What? Why? Why do you need my email?”

Me: “I’m going to pull up the order so I can see exactly which items you ordered.”

Customer: “I just told you! It was a platter and a snow blower!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, but we sell a lot of those items online, and I want to make sure I print the right pictures.”

Customer: “Ugh! Fine, it’s [email].” *said super fast, so I have to ask her to repeat it twice, pissing her off even further*

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I’m just going to put you on a brief hold so I can step to a computer and print that for you.”

Customer: “Fine. This is taking forever!”

(I put her back on hold and step literally 15 inches away to pull up her order, when I find that the computer is frozen. I pick back up to let her know I haven’t forgotten her and that I just have to run to another computer, of course leading to another bout of b****ing.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I do apologize, but I’m not able to find that email address in our system. I’ll just need your name.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! This is the worst customer service I’ve ever had! I would never recommend anyone shop or register with you!”

Me: “I apologize, ma’am—“

Customer: “Stop apologizing! Just look up the order! My name is [Customer]!”

(The email address is misspelled in the system, which isn’t surprising if she said it as quickly and rudely when the order was originally placed as she is now.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I’ve got those pictures for you, and I’ll have them at the front desk for you when you come in.”

Customer: *sudden change* “Oh, thank you so much! What was your name? Thanks so much!”

(And that’s why I have resolved never to voluntarily pick up the phone anymore.)

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