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Why Are There Never Nice Regulars?

, , , | Right | November 29, 2021

We have a regular customer whose favourite pastime is to fill a trolley with clearance items. These are a nightmare as you have to reduce the prices on the till manually. Management is worried about scanning fraud and so have disabled the multiplication button on the till. This means that each item has to be scanned and discounted individually.

Once all of her items have been scanned and discounted, this always happens.

Customer: “That’s the wrong price! You’re overcharging me! Call your manager!”

The manager comes over and the situation is explained:

Manager: “That is the correct price, ma’am.”

Customer: “Then I’m never shopping here again!”

She storms out, leaving a full trolley of goods to put back. This happens all the time and she always comes back.

One winter, we have an especially heavy snowstorm. Our policy in this case is to clear the car park access to the spaces closest to the door. We do this as very few people come out when it’s snowing, and it lets people park as close as possible. Not this regular, though. Oh, no.

She pulls into the car park, drives into the uncleared section, and tries to drive through a snowdrift, hitting a covered bollard in the process. She clomps into the store.

Customer: “Where’s the manager?!”

She then yells at him point-blank.

Customer: “Why didn’t you clear my usual parking space of snow?!”

Our manager responded by banning her from our store for being abusive towards staff.

When You Do The Math But You’re Still Wrong

, , , | Right | November 29, 2021

A woman comes up to my register.

Customer: “What is the price of this protein bar?”

Every item in the store has a physical price tag because we don’t have scanners at the register. I take it from her and flip it over.

Me: “It’s $2.49 before tax.”

Customer: “But how much would the case be?”

Normally, we do discounts for cases, but they have to be ordered ahead of time, so I start explaining.

Me: “We can’t do a discount unless—”

Customer: *Cutting me off aggressively* “I didn’t ask for a discount!”

I type in $2.49 times twelve, add tax, and tell her the final price. She stares me down for a few seconds.

Customer: “Get your manager.”

Once my manager arrived, she spent literally ten minutes tearing into me, describing me as the least helpful person ever, talking about my bad attitude, complaining about how awful and rude I was, etc.

I was working nearly full time (35.5 hours per week) and commuting to a school over an hour away four days a week. This lady took the time out of her day to break me down to the point I started crying. Thanks, lady, I still remember you. I hope you enjoyed your friggin’ protein bars.

I Didn’t Steal Your Pot-Tarts!

, , | Right | CREDIT: TheODPrinterguy | November 29, 2021

I work at a brick-and-mortar retail chain that sells electronics, but we also have some (very limited) snacks like animal crackers and Pop-Tarts.

Shortly before closing time one evening, I had two people enter the store smelling like pot. I was watching the floor while the Manager On Duty was taking care of some closing activities in the office. As the two people entered, I greeted them and asked what they are looking for.

Customer #1: “We need some backup batteries.”

I began walking them in the right direction.

Me: “Do you have any questions about them?”

Customer #2: “No.”

I noticed [Customer #1] stopping at a snack shelf and grabbing a box of Pop-Tarts before meeting back up with [Customer #2]. As there were no other customers in the store, I stood next to the aisle in case they had questions. I then saw [Customer #1] open the box of Pop-Tarts and start eating them while I was looking directly at him.

Me: “Are you planning on paying for those?”

They both ignored me, so I radioed the MOD and explained the situation. The MOD then came to the floor, we stood on either end of the aisle and watched them eat. Eventually, they left the aisle and looked at other sections in the store. At that point, [Customer #1] wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was eating the Pop-Tarts.

Customer #1: *To me* “Hey, can I use the restroom?”

I show him where it is.

Me: “Let me hold that box of Pop-Tarts for you.”

He declined and gave them to [Customer #2], instead.

After a while, he came out and walked around the store some more. I kept my distance, but I was close enough to see everything they were doing. Then, [Customer #1] approached the MOD.

Customer #1: “Can I see the manager?”

MOD: “I am the manager.”

Customer #1: “Then stop following me!”

MOD: “My associate saw you grab a box of Pop-Tarts, and we both saw you eating them in the aisle. We just want to make sure you are going to pay for them.”

Customer #1: “I haven’t opened the box!”

Then, he set the box down on a shelf and started to try to walk out. The MOD grabbed the box and beat [Customer #1] to the exit.

MOD: “Are you going to buy this?”

He showed the customer the opened and half-eaten box. The customer started yelling at us and causing a scene.

Customer #1: “How dare you?! I want the general manager’s information and the corporate customer service number!”

We gave him the general manager’s business card and the corporate customer service number and then he walked out. We went to find his friend.

Me: “Are you going to buy something or are you going to leave? We saw your friend eat Pop-Tarts he didn’t pay for.”

Customer #2: “I am going to buy some stuff.”

After ten minutes, he came to the checkout with the least expensive clearance items we carry.

MOD: “Are you going to pay for the Pop-Tarts your friend ate?”

After the store closed, I started getting ready to leave. I went into the bathroom to change into street clothes, and I saw a bunch of Pop-Tart wrappers on the ground and in the trash. The dude must have had a bad case of the munchies.

To date, this is the most ridiculous thief encounter I have ever had.

Stomach Made Of Steel, Head Full Of Rocks

, , , , , | Friendly | November 29, 2021

I clear out the shared fridge regularly. We’ve had arguments over it before, but after I showed my flatmates what was dripping on their food — the green mold farm at the back of the fridge — they quickly changed their minds.

Everyone, that is, apart from [Housemate]. [Housemate] hates me for it; he hates being told what to do and he hates not getting his own way. I blame it on his spoilt lifestyle.

Housemate: “Why did you throw this out? It only went out of date yesterday!”

Me: “Don’t tell me you are going to eat that? There’s fur all over the cheese.”

Housemate: “I was going to cut it off!”

Me: “Firstly, this mold grows through the cheese; it doesn’t spread across the surface. You can’t cut it off. Secondly, you left it uncovered on top of everyone else’s food. I’ve told you. Everyone has told you. It’s not hard. Put your food in containers or it will get thrown out.”

Housemate: “You need to pay for the container, then.”

Me: “What? No. Your food, your responsibility.”

He tries to argue with me.

Me: “No, everyone here agrees with me. You act like an adult or you don’t use the fridge.”

Later, he tried to convince the housemates to get me out. I shared photos of some of [Housemate]’s food I’d thrown out over the past week or so. No one sided with him. Everyone told him to just grow up and think of others. [Housemate], in response, packed an overnight bag and disappeared late that day.

But not before unplugging the fridge.

No one noticed until much later the next day. We had to throw a lot away as it was the middle of summer. [Housemate] came back pretending to be innocent, but it was obviously him.

We agreed to kick him out, bagged his stuff, and told him to come to get it. [Housemate]’s biggest concern? He wanted “his milk” from the fridge. I got the (now) warm milk from the bin and put it with his things, and yes, he actually took it with him.

This Request Is So(fa) Unreasonable

, , , , , | Friendly | November 29, 2021

I rent a room from [Woman]’s mom. She is okay as a landlady, but [Woman] is just a horrible human being. I could write a book on the things she does without a shred of regret or remorse. The worst that comes to mind is when she pretended to be disabled and then started a fundraiser for herself for said fictional issue. Thankfully, few people fell for it and it didn’t go through.

Something happens to [Woman]’s job, benefits, or both, because I see her at the house with a load of her things. While I don’t listen in, it is clear that money is an issue and she can’t afford her flat.

Immediately, [Woman] wants “her room” back and wants me to sleep on the sofa. I say no; I pay for the room. [Woman]’s mother offers a discount. I say no; I have a contract. It’s my room while I’m paying for it.

Landlady: “Well, you don’t give me much of an option, do you?”

Me: “We have a contract, I always pay on time, and I keep the room tidy, so I’m not sleeping on a sofa.”

Landlady: “I’ll have to evict you!”

Me: “Fine, once you give me sufficient notice. That’s six months.”

Woman: “I can’t sleep on a sofa for six months!”

Me: “I’m a paying tenant, not a guest. I have rights to be here.”

They try to bicker with me, but I tell them to just check my contract. Fearing some sort of revenge, I photograph and video my room top to bottom, just in case they try to lie and evict me early.

Nothing happens until a month later when I hear the smashing of glass. I find [Woman] in the kitchen, glass all over the floor, and a wall cabinet hanging off the wall.

Woman: “Oh, no, what have you done? Tenants who damage their room can get kicked out.”

Me: “‘Room,’ exactly. You know this is the kitchen and not part of the rental agreement? Your mom was quite clear on that. Any damage is yours to fix.”

Woman: “What? No! I… Mom!”

I could hear them shouting at each other through the walls. I only wished I could hear them better.

I soon found another room to rent with a family that spent most of the year abroad. I paid the same rate but I had the house pretty much to myself.