We Negotiate Better Than Anybody, Believe Me, It’ll Be Beautiful

, , , , | Right | September 12, 2017

(I work at a local furniture store, where we never have sales because our prices are always marked down from the MSRP. I’ve done the math, and it’s anywhere from 30-45% off on EVERY PIECE. As such, we also don’t negotiate prices. Most people accept it and say, “It was worth a try,” while others simply refuse to accept it. This happens to a coworker during my first week on the job.)

Customer: “I want to negotiate the price of this.”

Coworker: “We don’t negotiate prices, as our prices are always much lower than the suggested retail price.”

(The man immediately gets angry.)

Customer: “What do you mean you don’t negotiate? This is TRUMP’S America! We NEGOTIATE in Trump’s America!”

Coworker: *trying not to snap at him* “I’m sorry you feel that way, sir, but that’s store policy.”

Customer: “I want to talk to a manager. NOW.”

(We don’t have managers, since it’s a family owned store with policies that are set in stone, but my coworker gets one of the more experienced women from the office to tell this customer the same thing.)

Coworker #2: “Sir, we don’t negotiate prices.”

Customer: “This is RIDICULOUS. This is Trump’s America! Let’s see how long you last with this type of service in TRUMP’S America!”

(He buys the furniture anyway, because SURPRISE, the prices are still very reasonable for a locally owned store that has been in business for over 100 years. I don’t think we will need to worry about going out of business anytime soon. Later on, another coworker and I are discussing how people like to try and negotiate.)

Coworker #3: “Just ONCE, I would like to say to someone, ‘Name THREE companies that negotiate their prices.’ Guess what? You can’t! Car dealerships, maybe. But we aren’t a car dealership!”

Wrestling With This Sale

, , , , , , , | Right | September 12, 2017

(I am a 17-year-old student, working part-time in a major supermarket chain as a checkout operator. Because of UK law, persons under the age of 18 must have approval from someone over 18 before they can sell alcohol, and my store requires that person to physically come to the checkout and type in their ID and password to authorize the sale. In this case, the customer is clearly old enough, ripped, and covered in tattoos.)

Me: “I’m really sorry to keep you waiting, but I’m afraid I have to get approval from someone over 18 before I can sell you this.”

Customer: “I’m over 18. Consider it approved.”

Me: “I’m afraid that it has to come from someone that works here, but I’ll have my supervisor over here just as soon as I can.”

Customer: *getting increasingly irritated* “Just put it through. They don’t have to know about it.”

Me: “I can’t sell alcohol without a code. My machine completely locks up as soon as it picks up alcohol, and I need someone over 18 to physically come here and override the lock-out. I promise you, my supervisor will just be a moment.”

Customer: “That’s a dumb-a** policy. Just type in their code or something.”

Me: “I’m afraid that’s actually the law. Section 153 of the Licensing Act of 2003 states that a responsible person is committing an offence if he or she allows a person under the age of 18 to perform the sale or supply of alcohol, unless the sale is approved by that or another responsible person. I don’t know my supervisor’s code, and if I was able to just sell alcohol, then the store could easily lose their licence, and both myself and all the managers could be fined.”

(At this point the customer loses it. It’s been less than two minutes since this entire exchange began, but he leaps at me over my checkout, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and pulling me towards him.)

Customer: *shouting* “Listen to me, you f****** b****. I didn’t come here looking for a f****** lecture. Do you know who I am?”

(He shakes me a bit and moves right in my face, our noses about a centimetre from touching. A lot of people are watching, but none step in. I’m actually a black belt in three different martial arts, and more than capable of defending myself, but given that I am relatively new to the job and can see my supervisor on his way, I decide not to lash out.)

Customer: *as loud as he can* “I’m the f****** national wrestling champion. I’ve got hundreds of trophies, dozens of medals. What the f*** have you got you whiny c***?

(My supervisor arrives, taps the guy on his shoulder, and nuts him straight in the face. He drops to the floor clutching a bleeding, and probably broken, nose. My supervisor flips him onto his front and pulls both his hands up behind his back, zip tying his hands together, and pulling his phone off his belt.)

Supervisor: “Hey, when you’ve got a minute, can you get the police down here? No rush.”

(I love my supervisor.)

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Did A Number On You

, , , , , | Right | September 8, 2017

(I’m 18 years old and work in a local grocery store. In order to get deals and sales on items, customers usually give us a card or their phone numbers. One evening as I’m checking, a customer who looks to be in his late 30’s comes through my line.)

Me: “Hi, how are you tonight?”

Customer: “Good!”

Me: “Glad to hear that! Do you have your grocery card or phone number with you by chance? You’ll save some money.”

(The customer decides to give me his phone number.)

Customer: “Okay, now since I gave you my number, you give me yours.”

(I’m a little startled by this comment, but I decide to not say anything and just keep checking him out. I get done and put my hand out to give him his change and receipt.)

Customer: “Oh, you can just write it on the receipt.”

(Since he speaks while I am counting his change back, I don’t understand what he says at first. I almost don’t say anything, until I notice he hasn’t taken his change out of my hand yet. I then realize that he wants me to acknowledge what he said.)

Me: “I’m so sorry; I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

Customer: “Your number. You can just write it on the receipt.”

Me: *in the friendliest customer service voice I have ever used* “…thank you, have a nice day, sir!”

There’s No Benefit You Can Takeaway From This

, , | Right | September 8, 2017

(I am a part-time worker at a well-known pizza restaurant while waiting for my national exam results. During my fifth week of work, I am manning the podium at the entrance, where our current promotions are displayed, and where potential customers can browse the menus. At the time, there is this 1-for-1 promotional menu. It is a four-page menu, opened to the second and third pages to show all the foods eligible for the promotion. During the off-peak hours, two well-dressed customers came up to the podium.)

Me: “Welcome to [Restaurant]—”

Customer: “I want to know about this 1-for-1 promotion.” *gestures at the display*

Me: “The 1-for-1 promotion is only for dine-in, not takeaway. Pretty much, you choose any two items from this list and get the cheaper item free.”

Customer: “So, if I take away this pizza, I can get another free?”

Me: “Sorry, the 1-for-1 promotion is only for eating here.”

Customer: *raises an eyebrow at me* “NOTHING here says 1-for-1 is only for eating here.”

(At this point, I see her glance at my name-tag, which also has the word “Trainee” above my name. Unimpressed, she folds her arms and gives me a sort of arrogant look. Instead of being unsure and approaching my manager, who is manning the takeaway counter, I flip to the cover page of the menu and point to the fine print.)

Me: “It says here that, ‘Prices are subject to Goods and Service Tax as well as service charge.’ Service charge only applies for those who dine-in.”

([Customer], irritated, then glances to the display for $10 regular pizza takeaway and points to it.)

Customer: “With your 10% discount, how much will that be?”

Me: “You have to spend over $40 to enjoy the discount.”

(At this point, [Customer] gives up before glancing pointedly at her companion, who only shrugs before mouthing one of the pizza flavours. At this point, a small family had come in behind them, so I saw fit to redirect the first two customers to what I assume was their destination.)

Me: “If you would like to take away, you can proceed there and my manager can assist you.”

(Both women proceeded to the counter without a word and left me with two thoughts. One, how difficult can it be to calculate the assumed 10% ‘discount’ of a $10 pizza and deduce the final price of $9? Two, if she knew there even was a 10% discount, shouldn’t she also know of the amount she needs to spend to enjoy it? I ended up resigning a week later due to my school term starting. Never have I regretted that choice!)

It’s A Manner-ial Thing

, , , , | Right | September 8, 2017

(Our second to last customer approaches my register and starts placing items on the counter. The customer is an older woman with a younger girl in tow, either her daughter or granddaughter.)

Me: “Hi! Is that all for you today?”

(I have a tendency to talk a bit fast, and I ask this as the customers are putting up their items.)

Customer: *sigh* “Must be a Millennial thing.”

Me: *utterly confused* “I’m sorry? What’s a Millennial thing?”

Customer: “Oh, don’t get me started, honey.”

(I guess manners are a “Millennial thing,” too, these days.)

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