Respect Is A Mirror

, , , , , | Right | December 3, 2018

(It is a busy night, and I have a long line of customers. A man wants to exchange a hat he has bought, for a t-shirt. He does not have his receipt.)

Me: “I will need to see photo ID for the no-receipt exchange.”

Customer: “I don’t have it on me. Why? That’s so ridiculous.”

Me: I’m sorry, but it’s just company policy.”

(The man’s wife, who has said nothing the entire time, produces her driver’s licence for me so that I can process their transaction.)

Customer: “You can go on the cameras and see that I didn’t grab it off the shelf!”

Me: “I believe you, but it’s just part of my job. It’s policy.”

(I have to look up the return price in the computer system for his hat, since there is no receipt for proof of purchase. The return price is the last sale price within the past 60 days.)

Me: “So, because you don’t have a receipt, I have to give you the return price for the hat. It’s the last sale price from the last sixty days. The return price is $22.49, which is only about $8 less than the actual price.”

Customer: “But the tag clearly says it’s $30! Just give me $30 back!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but unfortunately, because you don’t have proof of purchase, I can’t. I don’t know if you bought the hat for $30, or if you bought it on sale, or if it was even more than $30. So I have to use the last sale price.”

Customer: “But I KNOW that I paid $30!”

Me: *trying to be as calm as possible* “I’m sorry, but I can’t just go based on what you think you paid for it. I have to give you the return price. Again, it’s just policy.”

(The man proceeds to throw the hat at me across the cash desk, to which I give him a warning look of disapproval. By now, I am losing my patience, but I am trying to stay calm in the hopes that it will diffuse the situation.)

Customer: “This is f****** bull-s***!”

Me: “Excuse me?!”

(I call for my manager because, at this point, I have had enough. The other customers are in disbelief at the man’s language. I suspend his transaction and wait for my manager to come to help.)

Customer: “Why are you not ringing me through? I just want an exchange!”

Me: “I will not ring you through. My manager will be happy to help you, but I am not.”

Customer: “Why the h*** not?”

Me: “Because I do NOT appreciate you swearing at me and disrespecting me when I am trying to help you. So now you can either wait for my manager to help you, or you can leave.”

Customer: “This is bull! I’m going back to [Other Store Location] because they never mentioned this. They will help me, unlike you, you worthless, good-for-nothing!”

(The man decides to leave, and as he does so, he decides to continue to swear at me about how I didn’t want to help him. The other customers told me that it was good to see me stand up for myself and that it was unfair that I was treated like that. My manager, who was with a customer, finally comes up, and my customers and I fill him in about the situation.)

Manager: “That just goes to show you: if you disrespect those who are trying to help you, they won’t!”

“Being Fat Makes You Diabetic” And Other Urban Legends Only Believed By Idiots

, , , , , | Working | December 3, 2018

(My mother had gestational diabetes when she was pregnant with me and my older brother. It is basically a form of diabetes that only affects pregnant women if their bodies cannot produce enough insulin due to the pregnancy. She needed to use insulin and a meter to manage her blood sugar. While she is getting used to the meter and insulin, an old friend wants to go out for lunch together to catch up. By this point in her pregnancy she is visibly pregnant, and this is the first time my mother needs to take her insulin with her in public. They go to a local family-owned diner and catch up. My mother checks her blood sugar while her friend steps out to go to the bathroom. She decides she needs insulin and takes the needle out of her purse, when suddenly:)

Waitress: *snatches needle and throws it on the floor* “What do you think you’re doing?! YOU. ARE. A. MOTHER. Don’t you care about your child? Don’t you have any shame, you junkie piece of s***?”

(My mother is speechless. Some other patrons notice the commotion and start watching.)

Mom: “I’m not an addict; this is my insulin. I’m diabetic, and I need it because—”

(Suddenly a man appears. He seems to be a manager.)

Manager: “[Waitress], don’t bother. She’s diabetic. So she isn’t pregnant, she’s just obese.”

(By this point my mom was panicking. She needed her insulin, everyone was staring, and the waitress and manager were hurling insults at her. Fortunately, her friend came out of the bathroom and saw my mother crying. After shooting the waitress and manager a dirty look, she went over to the table, took my mother’s hand, and led her out of the restaurant. My mother’s friend refused to pay the restaurant anything and helped my mother prepare another shot in the car before they went home. My mother was so embarrassed that she didn’t want to talk about what happened to anyone. She didn’t even tell my dad until years later. My family moved to a different town after my brother was born, so we don’t know if anything happened to the diner or its staff.)

Marking Down Items Takes Just A Sharpie

, , , , , | Right | December 2, 2018

(I am working part time at a temporary holiday store. This is only my second week there; it’s a Saturday near closing time. We have several small light-up figures around the cash wrap, basically impulse buys. We also have a specific method of marking down clearance or damaged items. I’m running the register, and we aren’t very busy, when this woman comes to check out with her son. As I’m ringing up her other purchases, she starts fiddling with the figures in front of my register where I can’t see.)

Customer: “And I want this, too.”

(She waves the figure at me, and I take it and scan it.)

Customer: “How much is that?”

Me: “$3.99, ma’am.”

Customer: “But it’s marked a dollar.”

(I turn over the tag and in RED ink, the original price is scratched out and “$1.00” is written above it. We have a manual tag printer for markdowns, and even when that device isn’t working, we never use red ink; furthermore, we have color-coded stickers that differentiate between clearance or damage pricing.)

Me: “I’m not sure, ma’am. I can check with my manager. Maybe it’s damaged.” *flicks the switch a couple times and it doesn’t turn on* “See? The light isn’t working.”

(She ignores me and proceeds to dig through the other display of figures.)

Customer: “Is this one a dollar, too? How about this one? What about these over here?”

Me: “I’m not sure, ma’am. They should be priced as marked.”

(She lays a pile of figures at my register just as my manager walks up.)

Customer: *points at me* “She said these are all a dollar! I want them all for a dollar!”

(My manager knows I wouldn’t say anything like that, and starts to explain that she cannot sell them for a dollar a piece. At this point, some other customers are looking on and shaking their heads at this woman. This woman’s son, aged about eleven, is trying to ignore everything, looking off in the distance.)

Customer: “Well, then, your employee lied to me. You should fire her and sell these to me for a dollar!”

Manager: “Ma’am, I need you to calm down. The only one I can sell you for a dollar is the one that is marked for a dollar. And I am making an exception for you, since it’s not even properly marked down. It is against policy to scratch out prices, and none of my employees would handle markdowns this way. You can either take this one figure for a dollar, or you can leave.”

Customer: *grumbles* “Fine. But she’s still a liar.”

(My manager does the price override, I finish the transaction, and the customer leaves.)

Next Customer: “The nerve of some people…”

Manager: “That’s what it’s like to work in retail.”

First-Born Son Sacrifice Required To Cash Checks

, , | Right | December 1, 2018

(We are required by law to collect certain pieces of information from non-customers before cashing a check for them. Our system will not allow us to cash anything without this information. Most of our regulars understand this, and provide this information without protest. We occasionally get someone who tries to argue…)

Me: “Good morning. How can I help you?”

Customer #1: “Cash this.” *throws ID and check at me*

Me: “Have you ever cashed here before?”

Customer #1: “No.”

Me: “Okay, no problem. I just need to ask you a few additional questions. Can you confirm your current address, please?”

Customer #1: “Why do you need to ask me anything? I have my ID and this check, and you have to cash it for me!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I am required by federal law to ask—”

Customer #1: “I will not give you any information! Get me a manager, now!

(I flag down the nearest supervisor, who has heard the whole thing.)

Supervisor: “Good morning, sir. As [My Name] said, we are required by law to get certain pieces of information before we can cash a check for you.”

Customer #1:I am not a criminal! I won’t give you any information! What are you going to do about that, huh?”

Supervisor: “Our system will not let us cash a check without this information, so unfortunately we will not be able to process this for you today.” *hands the check back*

Customer #1: “FINE! I will go to my bank!” *storms out*

Supervisor: “Imagine what would’ve happened if you’d gotten through all the questions…”

Me: “No kidding!”

([Customer #2], a regular, steps up to my window.)

Customer #2: “I have my ID ready and all my information is up to date. Would you like a blood sample or my firstborn child as a second form of ID?” *grins*

She Should Try This Brand-New Technology Called Email

, , , , | Right | November 30, 2018

(I work in a small stationery and book store, but we also provide a fax service. We charge $2 as a base price; there is no extra charge if it is a local number or an 800-number, and an extra charge by minute according to the destination is applied if it is not local. It may get a little more pricey if it is outside the Quebec region. Customers usually come to our store, as it is the cheapest; the other store offering the service charges $2 a sheet they send. One day a customer comes in to fax a four-page document to Ontario. After a few minutes, I receive the confirmation and I ring her up.)

Me: “That will be $4.50.”

(She looks at me as if I’ve just told her it would cost $400. She then proceeds to scream in disbelief.)

Customer: “$4.50 FOR A FAX?!”

Me: *confused, as no one has ever complained for the cost* “Yes?”

Customer: “FOUR dollars FIFTY, for a FAX?! FOUR FIFTY?!”

(She then storms out of the store with her sheets in her hands without paying and still yelling how it is crazy and so expensive and all. I’m frozen in place, staring at the door with a look of “What just happened?” on my face. I slowly turn around to look at the remaining three customers, two who were browsing and one that was waiting to come to the counter. They are just as confused as I am, and we just look at each other in disbelief for a moment before one of the customers, an old teacher of mine, comments how crazy that woman was. We all agree, and I go back to my normal self and delete the transaction. That is when my boss decides to come back from her lunch break. She stops as soon as she enters, seeing us all like this, a bit confused as to why there is a very awkward ambiance and why we all seem a bit frozen in place. After everyone is gone, she asks me what happened, and I tell her, with a description of the woman. She starts laughing.)

Boss: “I’m so sorry; I know it’s not funny, but what can we do? Better to laugh about it than cry. She’s the one in the wrong; if she ever comes back, which I doubt she will, make her pay and watch her closely.”

Me: “If that happens, I’m not giving her papers back until she pays.”

(My boss starts laughing even more and proceeds to tease me for the following week, telling customers we see often what happened when they ask why she teases me that much. Fast forward a month and a half; the woman comes back! As soon as I see her I brace myself. As soon as she sees me, she seems uncomfortable, and she comes to me to say sorry and make up an excuse. Still suspicious, I say it’s okay and ask if I can help her. She takes a pen and wants to send another fax. This time I keep the documents on the other side of the counter. I ring her up.)

Customer: “Do I have to pay for the other time?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but yes, you have to.”

Customer: *sounding defeated* “All right…”

Me: “That will be $10.35.”

(She pays, and THEN I give her back her papers. She leaves, and my boss comes up to me.)

Boss: “Was that the one that freaked out about the price of her fax last time?”

Me: “Yeah… I made her pay for the other one, too, and kept her papers until she paid so she couldn’t flee again.”

(My boss started laughing again, and started to tell me again about customers she’d had that were just as weird. Since then, I always keep a hand on the documents of people I’ve never seen or that look shady, just in case.)

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