Unfiltered Story #145470

, , | Unfiltered | March 27, 2019

I am re-stocking the shelves of my baby store when a customer approaches me.

Me: Hello ma’am. How may I help you?
Customer: Hello, where is the baby food?
Me: *pointing* Over on that aisle.
Customer: Thank you, but where are the ones my baby isn’t allergic to?
Me: I’m sorry, but I don’t know which ones your baby is allergic to. Buy some and test a little out. If she or he doesn’t react, I’m sure it’s fine. If you don’t want to risk it, ask your baby’s doctor.
Customer: You should know! You work here!
Me: Yes, but I don’t know your baby. Just buy a little jar and test it out.
Customer: How dare you! Do you want my child to die?!
Me: Ma’am, calm down. There are other small childern here and I don’t want you to upset them.
Customer: NO! F**K THEM!

She went and stormed out of the store and my co-workers and I never saw her again. I don’t know what happened to her baby, but I hope it didn’t die of starvation!

Unfiltered Story #124766

, , , | Unfiltered | November 4, 2018

(My cousin is cursed/blessed with a very young-looking face. Despite the fact she is 35, she sometimes still gets asked for ID. I myself am 21 and have also inherited the family baby-face. We’re walking round a well-known Mother & Baby store chain. She is pushing her oldest child (still a toddler)

Unfiltered Story #124737

, , , | Unfiltered | November 3, 2018

(My cousin is cursed/blessed with a very young-looking face. Despite the fact she is 35, she sometimes still gets asked for ID. I myself am 21 and have also inherited the family baby-face. We’re walking round a well-known Mother & Baby store chain. She is pushing her oldest child (still a toddler) in a pushchair, whilst I have her younger baby in a papoose on my back, to make things easier for her whilst she shops. We get everything she wants and join the line for the tills. Behind us are a pair of older women, who start to make snippy comments about us):

Old lady 1: Look at those two. Can’t keep their legs shut!

Old Lady 2: Ridiculous. Our generation didn’t fight in the war so that ungrateful girls like them could sponge off our war pensions.

Old lady 1: I hope their mothers are ashamed.

Old lady 2: I bet they’re not married. Probably no father in sight!

Old lady 1: Probably a [racial slur] who slept with them for drug money.

Old lady 2: Disgusting.

(Finally, my cousin has had enough of this, and turns around to speak to them)

Cousin: Excuse me, were you talking about me and my cousin?

Lady 2: Your ears work as well as your ovaries, then, love?

Lady 1: *sniggering* as IF they know what ovaries even means!

Cousin: Not that it’s ANY of your business to judge who would and who wouldn’t make a good parent, but I’m 35, married, with a biology-based PhD, and I’m the head of Science at [local large secondary school]. [My name] here is my cousin, and just carrying my youngest daughter for me so I don’t have to use the bulky double pram on what I’d only planned as a very quick shopping trip. I’m not entirely sure what you’re doing in [franchise], since I wouldn’t voluntarily let you anywhere NEAR my kids, were you in my family. You’ve done nothing but make hated assumptions, which, whilst we’re on the subject, reminds me, if – unlike me, obviously – you look your own age, then there’s NO WAY you’re from the the WWII generation. This would make you baby boomers, who’d be relying on my and [my name]’s generation to foot your whopping NHS bills. I suggest you think before you open your mouths next time.

Lady 1: *massively backpedalling* Well, I didn’t mean MY generation, my father…

Lady 2: We didn’t mean YOU, dear, we meant… *looks around hoping to see a legitimate teenage mother in the store* I… uh…

Cousin: Come off it! I don’t want to hear it. But I seriously hope you think before spouting any of your [right-wing tabloid] nonsense to your children or grandchildren without being sure of your facts.

(The cashier, who was staring at my cousin dumbfounded, buzzed for her manager – who swiped his staff discount through for her. He also tells the ladies that he will serve them, this once, but that they are not to set foot in the store again. They don’t quite have the good grace to apologise, but do at least look a bit ashamed of themselves.)

The Ugliest Person In The Room

| Cherry Hill, NJ, USA | Right | March 8, 2014

(I work at a very well-known, national baby store, with the word ‘baby’ in the name, sitting at a desk in the store. A middle-aged, seemingly trophy wife walks in, with high heels, implants, and platinum hair.)

Customer: “I don’t understand, like, why they don’t have more pretty people working here? Pretty people make, like, great babies!”

Me: “Uh, yeah. Yeah, they do.”

Customer: “Why are all the people that work here ugly? How do you people make babies?”

Me: “I guess… like everyone else?”

Customer: “That’s gross. They are gross. You are gross. You guys got, like, baby stuff for sale?”

Manager: *cutting in* “We do, but it’s all for ugly people.”

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Stupid Customers Really S(UK)

| Vernon Hills, IL, USA | Right | April 29, 2010

Me: “Thank you for calling [store], how may I help you?”

Customer: “I can’t find the product I want online, but I can find it in the UK section. Can you get it here for me?”

Me: “Ma’am, we cannot do anything at the store level. You could try to order it online or try calling the UK directly.”

Customer: “But, do they speak English over there?”

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