A Wristful Of Dollars

, , , , , | Right | September 22, 2018

(It’s my first year of working on the cash register. A very tall and muscular man is one of my customers. The purchase goes smoothly.)

Me: “That will be $8.25.”

(The customer puts down a few bills on the counter. I’ve seen other customers do this as a way of handing me money, so I reach over to take the bills. Immediately, my customer grabs my wrist and yanks hard enough to pull me onto the counter. He looks me square in the eyes and speaks to me in the calmest, most condescending tone.)

Customer: “Now, listen to me. I’m still getting the rest of my change out. You don’t get to take it until I give you everything. Do you understand?”

(I was too stunned to speak. He let me go and I lowered myself back behind the register, while he got a quarter and handed me the money without another word. Because of this assault, I refuse to pick up money if it’s still on the counter for me to reach over and take, not just because I’m scared of it happening again, but because I now have an aching arm injury that makes it hard to reach.)

The Gift Cards That Keep On Giving Suspicion

, , , , | Right | September 22, 2018

(I’m the idiot in this story. I was sent to buy a number of gift cards from our local department store to give out to employees found to be doing good work on our project. My dad works for the same company and has sent me to purchase the gift cards with his corporate Visa.)

Cashier: “Hi, how can I help you today?”

Me: “Hi there. Can I please have ten gift cards with $100 each on them?”

Cashier: “Sure, no problem.” *fills the cards and scans them through* “That will be $1000.”

Me: “Visa, please.”

(I hand over my dad’s corporate card, and she processes the transaction. The gift cards have been paid for.)

Cashier: “Do you have another piece of ID on you? With a value this high, I need to verify the signature on the credit card.”

Me: “Oh, the signature won’t match. It’s my dad’s corporate card; he sent me to pick up these gift cards.”

Cashier: “Oh, okay, well, do you have some ID on you to verify identity?”

Me: *patting pockets, suddenly realising I left work without my wallet* “I’m so sorry. I seem to have left my wallet at work in my rush to get here.”

Cashier: *growing increasingly suspicious* “I see. I just need to call a manager.”

(I begin frantically trying to reach my dad to have him verify the use of the card — though it won’t do much good with me not having any ID — but he is unreachable. The cashier returns with her manager.)

Me: “I’m so sorry. I realise this probably looks pretty sketchy.”

Manager: “I’m going to have to hold the gift cards. I can’t let you leave with them knowing that this is not your credit card, and you have no way to prove that you have authority to use it.”

Me: “I understand. Let me try to get in touch with my manager who may be able to help or can perhaps find my dad.”

(Meanwhile, the bank associated with the credit card has phoned the department store and informed them that the card has been frozen due to unusual activity. My dad rarely uses his card, and it has coincidentally been used twice already that day so a third transaction seems suspicious to the bank. I get in touch with my manager on my cell phone.)

Me: “This is a mess; I can’t leave with the gift cards because I admitted it’s not my credit card that I paid with and I have no ID.”

My Manager: “Can you see the gift cards?”

Me: “Yes. Why?”

My Manager: “Are you near a door?”

Me: “Yes. Where are you going with this?”

My Manager: “GRAB THEM AND RUN!”

Me: “WHAT?!”

My Manager: “I’m kidding. I’ll try to find your Dad.”

(The department store manager has asked me to speak with the representative from the bank that’s frozen the card.)

Bank Rep: “So, I’m just going to explain this how it sounds to me, and you tell me what you think. You’ve shown up at this store to buy $1000 worth of gift cards, with someone else’s credit card. You have no proof that you are authorised to use this card. You have no ID, so even if you did have some kind of permission slip to use the card, the store can’t verify that it’s you who has permission. You’ve said it’s your dad’s card, but you can’t reach him… and there have already been three transactions on this card today which flag it as suspicious, regardless if you were legitimately allowed to use the card.”

Me: “Yeah. I see how that looks.”

(My dad finally called me back and spoke with the bank, as well as the department store. They agreed to hold the gift cards for him to come pick up later. I made sure I was with him when he came in, with my ID, to show the store manager. She was a good sport, and completely fair in how she treated the situation; it did look like I was trying to steal!)

Getting Very Shirty About Those Three Dollars

, , , , | Right | September 21, 2018

(There’s a large sale going on at our store, and extra 40% taken off the lowest marked ticket price on clearance items. I am working at customer service, doing what few returns we have had, when a gentleman walks up to my register.)

Customer: “I just checked out with the cashier over here, and all your clearance is an extra 40% off, but he didn’t take the discount off.”

Me: “Okay, would you like me to double check?”

Customer: “Oh, yes, please; that would be lovely.”

(I go through the 50+ t-shirts he bought, price-checking them one by one to make sure they ring up right and match his receipt. He lets me do this on every item, taking at least five minutes.)

Me: “Well, sir, according to your receipt, and the prices the register pulled up, everything rang up correctly.”

Customer: “Okay, but what’s the total?”

Me: “The total is at the bottom of your receipt. Everything rang up the same, so the total should be correct.”

Customer: “Well, I want you to ring it up again and make sure the totals match up. Now.”

(I decide not to argue and just go ahead and do it; however, his total is about $3 less than on his original receipt, not enough to be a clearance issue. After double-checking everything, once again the process taking several minutes, I see he also bought some candy and cookies at the register.)

Customer: “So, why is the total less now than it was then?”

Me: “Well, when you made the purchase, sir, you also purchased some candy and cookies, causing the $3 difference.”

Customer: “Well, I want my $3 back!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t give you money back for something you purchased and consumed.”

Customer: “You’re just trying to take my money. That’s all these stores are good for. Keep the $3. But I won’t be back again.”

Me: “Have a good day, sir!” *to coworker* “Think that was a promise?”

Those Poor People With Their Burst Pipes

, , , , , | Friendly | September 21, 2018

(Houston, Texas has just been hit by Hurricane Harvey, the worst hurricane on record. Entire communities are gone, whole families are being discovered dead in their homes, and the whole city has been completely torn asunder. My store in New Jersey runs pet-based fundraisers several times a year, and our current group has generously told us to cut their fundraiser short in favor of collecting donations for hurricane relief. I’m ringing up a regular customer, who is always brusque, a tad misogynistic, and generally hard to deal with, a few days into the new fundraiser.)

Me: “Okay, and we’re currently collecting donations for Hurricane Har–”

Regular: *impatient and waving his hand in my face* “No, I have my own water problems.”

Me: *livid, but silent*

(Whatever his “water problems” were, I hope they got only worse!)

They Got The Drop On You

, , , , , | Right | September 20, 2018

(I am checking out a customer. I hand him a dollar in change and then lightly drop coins into his hand.)

Customer: *gives me a look* “You could have just handed me my change like I handed you the money, instead of just dropping it into my hand.”

(I think to myself… I did hand you the money, but it’s impossible to place a bunch of coins directly into your hand unless you want me to count them out one by one.)

Me: “I’m sorry; I meant no disrespect.”

Customer: “Yeah, you’re sorry, but you still did it, huh?*turns to his friend and my coworker* “Did you just see how she handed me my money? So disrespectful! I can’t believe how rude.”

(The man leaves.)

Coworker: *giggles* “Jeez. I saw the way you handed it to him; it was completely normal, and he just acted like you just kicked his puppy.”

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