The Refunder Blunder Was Hers

, , , , | Right | January 2, 2019

(I’m working in a pharmacy, and we are absolutely slammed and understaffed. There is a register up front for people to check out with items if they aren’t picking up a prescription, and it’s a common courtesy to do so, rather than bother a busy technician. A customer approaches the counter with a full cart of items. I tell her I will be with her momentarily and finish counting the prescription. She huffs and sighs audibly while I finish. I approach the counter and smile.)

Me: “Are you picking up a prescription today?”

Customer: *rolling her eyes* “No, I’m not. I just finished shopping and waited a very long time for a lazy employee to finally check me out.”

(It took me all of about thirty seconds to get to her.)

Me: “I’m sorry about your wait, ma’am.”

Customer: “Good. Now check me out.”

(She unloads her entire cart, and it takes about ten minutes to ring everything out. During this time, a sizable line forms behind her. I only have one coworker in the pharmacy, and she is running back and forth helping customers in the drive-thru and drop-off areas, so production has completely stopped.)

Me: “Do you have a rewards card? I can take a phone number, as well.”

Customer: “No, I don’t feel like digging it out. Just finish the transaction.”

Me: “Are you sure? You won’t get the sale prices without it.”


(She mutters something about incompetent employees while I finish her transaction, which comes to over $300. She pays in cash.)

Me: “Thank you. Have a nice night!”

(She takes a minute to look over her receipt, and comes to the conclusion that she’s been cheated.)

Customer: “Why didn’t I get the sale prices?”

Me: “You refused to let me scan your reward card, remember? I told you that you wouldn’t get the sale prices without it.”

Customer: “But I have one! You should have just given me a discount!”

Me: “Ma’am, unfortunately, we have to actually scan it or type in a phone number in order to give you the sale prices.”

Customer: “Well, then, redo it.”

Me: *astonished* “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “Redo the transaction. RIGHT NOW!”

Me: “Ma’am, I would have to refund the entire transaction and re-ring each and every item in order to do that.”

Customer: “Fine. You should have done it correctly to begin with.”

Me: *defeated* “Will you at least step to the back of the line? There are people here who are sick and need their medications.”


(I begin the long process of refunding her, item by item, and re-ringing the transaction. We’ve now been at this register for so long that many customers have given up and left.)

Me: “The total comes to $290. You saved $10 today.”

Customer: “See, now, that wasn’t so difficult, was it? Next time, do it right.”

(She leaves, smirking at the other customers in line as she goes.)

Customer #2: “What in the blue f*** was her problem?”

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Dinner Has Been Disabled

, , , , | Working | January 2, 2019

(I’m disabled and mainly stay home. I order a lot of delivery because it’s easier than trying to get my wheelchair out to the bus stop. I order fast food through a third-party delivery company with no problems, until the delivery guy comes to the door. When I open it and he sees me in my wheelchair, he makes a face.)

Delivery Guy: “I’m not allowed inside a residence. Can you come closer?”

(I look down. My front wheels are literally right up against the edge of the door.)

Me: “I’m as far forward as I can get without being outside. And it’s not coming in if you just hand it to me.”

(He’s two steps away from me.)

Delivery Guy: “I can’t break policy.”

(I have to back up and push myself through the doorframe. He practically dumps the bag of food on me and walks down the ramp. I give him an appropriate review through the company. Later, I get a call.)

Caller: “Hi, is this [My Name]?”

Me: “Who’s this?”

Caller: “I’m [Caller] from [Third-Party Delivery Company]. This is regarding your order from [Restaurant].”

Me: “Oh, yeah. The driver was really rude about giving me the food.”

Caller: “We reached out to him and he claimed you tried getting him to go into the house, which is against company policy.”

(I briefly explain what happened.)

Caller: “I see. We’ll talk to the driver again to confirm.”

(I later got my order refunded and an apology from the company.)

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Not Demonstrating Acceptable Behavior

, , , , , | Working | January 1, 2019

(At this time, I identify as a woman and have a high-pitched “customer service” voice. I have just gotten accepted for a job demonstrating a product for [Company A] at the store of [Company B]. The interview on Monday is over the phone, and the job is Saturday and Sunday, except for the first week where I will be trained on Friday. As a college student, I make it clear that I’m not available for any kind of communication between Tuesday and Thursday because I need to focus on classes. My interviewer, who is also my direct manager, agrees to this. Everything is going fine; I’ll see them on Friday. Or so I thought. Tuesday, I receive a text.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], how are things? Don’t forget you need to bring [documents] on Friday if you didn’t submit them by email. I haven’t checked, lol.”

Me: “Please keep in mind, I am not available for any communication on Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. I submitted [document] by email. We can talk more on Friday. Have a nice day.”

Manager: “Oh, I wanted you to actually train Wednesday.”

Me: “We never agreed to that. I specifically said I am not available. If you’re unhappy with my availability, I will be informing you now that I am prioritizing my class work over this job. If you want that priority changed, it’ll cost [higher price per hour], as that is the industry standard, above the wages you’re currently offering. I am including any text messages individually as one-hour charges each. Thanks for your understanding.”

Manager: “Jeez, it was just a joke. See you Friday!”

(Wednesday, the manager sends a series of about forty to fifty messages, all varying in tone from casual chatting to borderline sexual harassment, like asking me what I’m wearing and a few ranting about his ex. The final message is the important one.)

Manager: “So, are you still interested in the job or do I need to find someone more dedicated?”

(Pissed about his genuine disrespect of boundaries, and having PTSD flashbacks because of how his messages are similar to those sent to me by my abusive ex, I decide I’m done with his nonsense.)

Me: “I was still interested in the job. And I would have shown up on Friday and everything would have been fine. Everything you sent me could have been discussed on Friday as we had planned, and some of it shouldn’t have been sent at all. But now? No. I no longer want this job. You have shown me that you have no concept of boundaries, and demonstrated an inability to respect your employees. I don’t want to work for someone like you. I don’t get jobs to make friends. I do not and did not ever want to be your friend. I get jobs to make money. Learn to make friends in appropriate settings. I quit. Lose my number.”

Manager: *suddenly back-pedaling* “You can’t do this! We need you! Just take a joke! We already spent five grand securing the location at [Company B]! And you were the only qualified applicant! If you’re serious about this, you need to tell [Company A]’s owner why you’re pissing on his money!”

Me: “No, you can tell him how you threw away his money by being so unprofessional. In fact, show him our text messages. Good luck finding a new demonstration-lady with half as much experience as me, in this economy, for those wages.”

(He gets the hint and doesn’t reply. He tries to call on Thursday, but I ignore the calls, and my voicemail isn’t set up so he can’t yell at me that way. On Friday, I get a call from [Company A]’s owner and he asks me to, in my words, explain why I didn’t show up for training.)

Me: “Is [Manager]’s phone with the number [exact phone number] a company device or a personal device?”

[Company A]’s Owner: “It’s a company device. Why?”

Me: “Go to your account provider for the phone and pull up the text messages from Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Call back and tell me what you think happened.”

(I hang up on him because he’s wasting my time by not having done so in the first place. On Saturday, he calls again:)

[Company A]’s Owner: *nervous* “So, uh, about the issue this week. I just wanted to personally apologize. [Manager] was… totally out of line; don’t worry about a thing. We won’t charge you a penny if you don’t share those text messages.”

Me: *in the most passive-aggressive polite and cheer customer service voice I can manage* “That’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t owe you anything. The expense of training and location rentals is the burden of the business, not of the employee. What you’re attempting is blackmail. I’ll do whatever I want, and you’ll never contact me again unless you want the police involved, mmkay?”

(He hung up on me. I happened to go to [Company B] on personal business, and saw [Company A]’s demonstration booth set up but unmanned. It remained unmanned for three weeks, until another lady started working there. After a brief conversation, I found out that [Manager] was doing the same harassment to her, and she was going to quit after only two shifts because of it! The next employee to man the booth was a man, who was a Poe’s Law-subtype of sexist with a familiar voice. Thankfully he got banned from entering [Company B]’s premises after talking too much about the anatomy of female customers, and [Company A] hired someone much more decent.)

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Her Light Bulb Is Cracked

, , , , | Legal | January 1, 2019

Years ago, circa 2010, I worked as door staff at a fairly rough nightclub. We had a policy that every person through the door had to be searched with a wand and be subject to a bag check. I searched a woman and found a baggie of white powder in her purse. I confiscated it and turned her away; she began ranting and screaming at me but her friends escorted her away. I put the bag in our drug safe to be turned over to the cops and carried on with work.

A little while later, a police car drove up and two officers got out. The woman from before came storming back up and started screaming again. One of the officers said, “We have a report that you stole a mobile phone.” I was mystified as I didn’t even have a phone on me, but then the woman started ranting at him about me stealing from her.

A light bulb flashed on in my brain, and I radioed the manager to bring the baggie out. When she did, the crazy woman snatched it and started waving it at the police, telling them to arrest me for theft. The look on their faces was priceless as they arrested her and tested the powder; it came back positive — for what I don’t know, but the little pack changed color. It turned out that she had called 999 and the operator had misheard what she was ranting about and thought she said mobile. Gotta love drunk idiots!

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It Takes Two To Tango, But Only One To Make A Scene

, , , , | Right | January 1, 2019

(I am visiting a local shop known for being a cheap alternative to many other British supermarkets. Obviously, this type of shop is more popular among those who are on a lower budget for whatever reason, so it’s always very busy. The shop is also in a mall, so the security guards switch from shop to shop and are operated by a separate company. As I am waiting at the checkouts, the store alarm goes off and security approaches the middle-aged woman at the door. I think nothing of it until two minutes later when all h*** breaks loose.)

Lady: *shouting* “How dare you stop me?! And how dare you approach me?!” *points at the security guard, who is a black man*

(The security guard looks confused by this lady’s outburst and tries his best to explain that it’s his job to stop those leaving if the alarm goes off.)

Lady: “This won’t do! I have a 75-year-old mother waiting at home who needs me, and you’re holding me up! How dare you?! I demand to speak to your manager!”

(The manager is called and the security guard resumes his duties.)

Lady: “That man assaulted me, and is keeping me up on my shopping! How am I supposed to explain this to my 75-year-old mother at home?! It’s all his fault!” *gestures in the vague direction where the security guard left* “You shouldn’t let people of his kind work here. They’re all the same!”

Manager: *looks visibly upset at this woman’s vile outburst, but remains his best to keep calm* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s store policy to stop those who trigger the alarms, to check that all items were scanned. Sometimes you may have paid for it, but it fails to scan, and therefore will trigger the alarm. If you’d like to step this way, we can sort this all out!”

Lady: “No! I want an apology from that man. And not just any apology; it has to be a formal, handwritten apology! And I want it now!”

Manager: “Well, that may be, but you are making a scene at the moment, ma’am, and the man has done nothing wrong. He was doing his job.”


Manager: “If you continue like this, I’ll have no choice but to call the police.”


Manager: “He doesn’t work for our store! He works for the mall you’re in! He’s not my employee! I can’t fire him, or discipline him, or anything! All I can do is call the security team to come down!”

(I had to leave the store, as I’d checked out all my items, but I really hope the manager calmed that horrid lady down!)

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