(I work at a large pizza chain. One day we get an order for several pizzas, which we fill. However, someone misreads the slip and makes the wrong pizza. The customer comes in to collect her order before we can fix it.)

Me: “We’re really sorry, but we made you [Pizza #1] instead of [Pizza #2]. We can remake it if you’re willing to wait.”

Customer: “No, don’t bother. I’m happy with [Pizza #1]. How much do I owe you?”

(I give her the total, which is a little over $20. She pulls out a $20 note, but then her face goes pale.)

Customer: “I’m so sorry. I dropped the other $20 on the way here. I could go home and grab more money.”

(Since she was so nice about the pizza, and since she’s only short a couple of dollars, I wave her off. A few weeks later, we get an order for the same customer. I’m not working that night, so I am told about this later. The customer comes in, collects her pizzas — correctly made this time — and then goes up to pay.)

Customer: “I was here a few weeks ago. I dropped part of the money that I was going to use to pay for the pizza, and the person on the counter was nice enough to let me go. I’ve brought in the amount I was short last time. Can you try to make sure that she gets it? Her name was [My Name].”

(I’ve had customers who were short. On the very rare occasion, they may pay it back. But I’ve never had a customer not only return the money, but remember the person who covered the missing amount.)

(I get a coupon in the mail that allows me to get $5 off an animated DVD. I decide to pick it up while grocery shopping. Because of my husband’s pay schedule, I can only buy groceries once every six weeks, which means I have to buy enough food and supplies to last us that long. It’s not an easy thing to do with a newborn in diapers and a toddler. I get two carts up to the check out, pushing one cart with the toddler in it and pulling the other with the baby. The poor cashier has a hard time because I have so many coupons, including several buy-one-get-one coupons that require the price of the item to be written in. Finally, after 25 minutes, we get everything paid for and someone helps me take the bags out to my car. When I get home and look over my receipt, I see I was not charged the $20 for the DVD, but did have the $5 coupon applied to my total. I call the store and get the manager.)

Me: “Hi, I was in earlier today buying groceries. I bought a DVD with a coupon. The problem is that the cashier took the $5 off the bill, but she never charged me for the DVD. I know it was because she was distracted by me talking to her and by all my coupons. I can come in and pay for it, but I won’t be on that side of town for another six weeks, and I can’t afford the gas right now. Can I mail you a check?”

Manager: “…”

Me: “Um, hello? Are you still there?”

Manager: “Yeah, sorry; you kind of threw me off. I have never had anyone actually call me with this offer. Most people just steal the DVDs. Tell you what: why don’t you just keep the DVD as a gift, but let me know which one it is so I can take it out of stock?”

Me: “Really?! Oh, thank you! Are you sure?”

Manager: “Lady, it would be my pleasure. And the manager that is sitting next to me listening to the whole conversation agrees.”

(Honesty is the best policy.)

(I’m a digital artist and thus have a graphic tablet with its respective pencil. One day the tip of the pencil gives out and I’m forced to buy a new one.)

Shop Clerk: “Hi! What can I help you with?”

Me: “I’m looking for a new tip for my tablet’s pencil. I brought it with me so I can see which will work.”

Shop Clerk: “Hmm… Let me see it.”

(I hand her my pencil and shortly after she hands it back.)

Shop Clerk: “Is your tablet from [Brand]?”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

Shop Clerk: “Ah, here’s the thing. Assuming your tablet was brand new when you got it, did it come with a support for the pencil?”

Me: “Yes, and I still use it, but why?”

Shop Clerk: “That’s the thing; if you unscrew the bottom of that support there should be about a dozen replacement tips.”

Me: “What? Really?”

Shop Clerk: “It says so on the manual, I guess. Now you can make that pencil last.”

Me: “Hold on; by telling me this you just lost a sale.”

Shop Clerk: *shrugs* “Yeah, it’s not like my boss will make a fuss for a tip. Plus if I didn’t tell you I’d feel bad for practically scamming you.”

(I was very thankful so I bought a new mouse for my computer. Now she didn’t actually lose a sale!)

(I am the customer in this story, visiting America from New Zealand. I have incorrectly put the lid on my soft drink, so I drop some on the floor. I then accidentally step in it and slip and fell. The nearest staff member comes straight to my assistance.)

Staff: “Ma’am, are you all right?!”

Me: *sitting upright and laughing in embarrassment* “Well, my dignity may have been lost, but the rest of me is here.”

Staff: “We are so sorry for this!”

Me: *I note she seems to be freaking out a little* “That’s fine; it’s my fault. I dropped it and didn’t watch out properly.”

(I then had to spend the next ten minutes reassuring her, and her manager, that I was completely fine and I was not going to be suing them in any way for it. They replaced my drink and gave me a gift card, though! It made me feel sad to think that this has happened to businesses before!)

(I take my father to lunch. He likes to complain about every little thing in the hopes that he can get a new meal along with the “defective” meal. He has sent back his perfectly fine, well-prepared meal, twice.)

Server: “Let me just get these out of the way, and we will have your correct order up in a few minutes.”

Dad: “Leave them. I can feed them to the dog.”

Server: “F*** you.”

Dad: “What did you just say?!”

Server: “I said, ‘F*** you!’ You try to pull this s*** every time you are in here!”

Dad: “I want to speak to a manager—”

Server: *cutting him off* “I AM THE F****** MANAGER, AND TODAY IS MY LAST DAY! All bets are off. So, as acting manager, for the rest of my two hours left working for this company, I am hereby barring you permanently from this establishment. Now f*** off!”

(Applause erupts from the kitchen as Dad makes a run for the door. The server stops me as I slink away, and then hands me Dad’s food along with mine.)

Server: “You take this. On the house. And you are welcome back here any time, as long as you promise not to share any with him.”

(I never saw that server again, but Dad never tried to weasel his way into a free meal after that. The last day on the job is obviously the best day.)

Related:

Returner Burner, Part 7

Returner Burner, Part 6

Returner Burner, Part 5