Unfiltered Story #207150

, , , | Unfiltered | September 5, 2020

(I’m working at a register in a Cafe when a grandmother and young child come to out bakery display case, talking in another language. The child finally turns to me and this conversation ensues.)

Child: How much is this?

Me: $1.50

C: $1.50!? What? What about this?

Me: That’s $1.95.

C: $1.95? Why is it so expensive?

Me: It’s an expensive chocolate.

C: What about THIS?

Me: That’s $1.50

C: C’mon lady, you’re killing me!

Hope For Humanity Is Beginning To Fade

, , , , | Right | August 23, 2020

I am an Esthetician — skin therapist — at a spa. When I am not performing facials on clients, I manage the front desk and do minor marketing for the spa and salon. Today, I receive the oddest and most difficult of calls to date.

Caller: “My daughter got her hair dyed about a month ago. Since then it has faded. I’ve texted the stylist multiple times regarding the appointment and how to rebook, but no one called me.”

I scroll through the computer to find the woman’s daughter’s history.

Me: “Ma’am, according to our records, we have called you three times to rebook and never received a call back.”

Caller:What?! I do not understand. I never received a call.”

Me: “Ma’am, the number we have on record is [number]; is this correct?”

Caller: “THAT’S MY DAUGHTER’S NUMBER!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, now that I do have you on the phone and I do have some time I’ll be more than happy to assist you in booking the appointment.”

Caller: “No, no, no, no, no. I want to book with the stylist that did my daughter’s hair. And I need to know if I have to pay anything; the color faded so I shouldn’t have to pay anything.”

Me: “Ma’am, I will book you with that stylist. According to our records, your daughter was in here more than five weeks ago; typically color appointments should be booked every five to six weeks.”

Caller: “No. This is my daughter. She is a child. It shouldn’t have faded.”

Me: “Ma’am, I understand.”

Caller: “I want an appointment in which I won’t have to pay anything!”

Me: “Ma’am, the best I can do is just have you pop in with your daughter to see if the stylist can look at her hair and give you a price point.”

Caller: “Ugh, fine!” 

I booked the free consultation appointment and finally got off the phone with the woman who was insistent on not paying a dime for an appointment that was obviously needed.

About an hour later, I reported the client to our salon manager, who told me to call the woman back and rebook her yet again but on a day when a senior stylist was also present to enforce the needed payment.

I long for the days when answering the phone will no longer be my job. The woman’s daughter wanted bright red hair; red fades the fastest. We told her this and encouraged her to rebook every five weeks.

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Unfiltered Story #204315

, , , , | Unfiltered | August 11, 2020

(I’m in the middle of putting books away on the shelves when a woman in her early thirties or so comes into the store and asks me to help her find a book.)
Customer: “Do you have any books by Emily Giffen?”
Me: (after checking the computer system) “It doesn’t look like we do, but let’s check in the section where her books are, sometimes the computer’s wrong.”
(I check the G section of Fiction and the New Releases wall and don’t see any of her books).
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, it looks like we don’t have any of her books at this time.”
Customer: “Could you recommend any authors with books kind of like hers?”
Me: (I’ve never read any of her books but I try to get some information) “What does she tend to write about?”
Customer: “Oh, just women in their thirties, kind of like me.”
Me: (I rattle off a few other authors that sound kind of close) “Those may be along the lines you’re looking for, but I’ve never read any of Emily Giffen’s books so I’m not 100% sure.”
Customer: “Well, you work in a bookstore, don’t you? You should know what the books you’re selling are about!”
Me: (as politely as possible) “Yes, ma’am, but I’m not able to read every single book that comes into the store.”
(She left a little bit after that, but what I really wanted to say was “Sorry that our book tastes don’t mesh.”)

Unfiltered Story #204417

, , , | Unfiltered | August 11, 2020

I’m a cashier/sales associate at a thrift store part time. This takes place on a Monday. A man has come in to buy a large china set we have for sale (60 or 80 piece, can’t remember). He counts and realizes that it’s actually about 3 pieces short of the full set and starts swearing to himself, but decides to buy it anyway.

After confirming that he does definitely want the set, I start ringing him up. Unfortunately for me, each piece has a price written on the bottom rather than a single price for the whole set. Also unfortunate, due to a miscommunication in my training a few months prior, I was at the time under the impression I was not allowed to use the ‘quantity’ button on the register, so I have to type in the price for every single item. Besides being time consuming, having so many similar items rung up tends to make the register lag very badly. Suddenly several people line up behind this guy, so I call for someone to help out those people on the other register since I was obviously going to be doing this for awhile.

Now that he has an audience, he starts telling people the story of him buying the china set. Apparently he had seen the set on Saturday, but felt it was too expensive. But after looking up online how much a set like this is worth later that night, he decided to come back. He came back on Sunday night, but because we close three hours earlier on Sundays (a well-known fact that is also printed very clearly with the hours on our door), he got there after we had closed. He proceeded to rant about how he “can’t believe you fuckers were closed so early” over and over, in the process calling the store and its employees ‘pieces of shit’, ‘fuckers’, ‘motherfuckers’, ‘bastards’ and more. Please note that it was a time during the day when most kids would be at school, but there were still toddlers and babies around the store along with some other slightly older kids with their parents instead of at school for whatever reason.

At this point, I’ve almost finished ringing up all the pieces, when he proudly announces that he is planning to sell the set on ebay and begins bragging about how smart he is to do so and giddily telling other customers how much money he is going to make selling it all. We have plenty of regular customers who resell some of our nicer or more antique goods, so this isn’t a surprise or a problem. I have retired family who do things like this to make a little extra money, so I generally don’t have a problem with it. I was just glad he was almost gone, and pulled out a few boxes to load his things into.

We do offer to wrap fragile items in newspaper, but often if people take their things in a box they don’t feel they need it, or just want single sheets of paper to separate the stuff a little. But no, because of how much this guy expects to make off his haul, he wants every single piece wrapped individually. Since the other customers are being taken care of by my coworker and because I take pride in my excellent service to the customers, I agree to wrap every piece like he wants. After watching me wrap a few, he requests I go even farther and also tape the newspaper up to close it, something we do not typically do, but again I oblige.

He now launches again into how much money he’s going to make from this. The other customers are by now pretty irritated with him and suggest that he help me wrap his things. Some of them are more subtle about it while a couple people outright say he should be helping me, but he’s oblivious to it all. Since it’s now new people in line, he again breaks into the dramatic retelling of how he first saw the set, how us “fuckers” are closed Sunday nights and asks if everyone else can believe how we “dare” to “close early on him”, and how he came back today on his lunch break to get the set. This is the first time he mentions he is on his break, and he takes the opportunity to tell me to hurry it up. Someone again suggests that maybe he should be helping me then, but he again ignores them. Eventually I finish and he happily goes on his way.

I’d like to say I perform well under pressure but that would be a lie. When I make small mistakes, they tend to rattle me and continue to affect me for some time, and apparently repeatedly being called a ‘fucker’ does the same. I was shaken for a while and when I went home that night I realized I still felt very hurt and was having a very hard time handling being called such names. It actually stuck with me for most of a week, feeling very depressed, degraded, and unappreciated.

I’ve encountered some really great customers at my job, but sadly it’s the crappy ones that stick with you.

Unfiltered Story #201395

, , , | Unfiltered | July 24, 2020

I work 4 days a week at a thrift store. There is one customer, an older man, who I see almost every day. He buys a shirt or two and goes on his way. He’s generally very polite, but he sometimes makes jokes that I honestly don’t know how to respond to.

A while back, he was checking out and I asked how he was doing. He responded by saying, “Well, I’m retired and here by choice, so I’m doing better than you!” Honestly, I was a little offended at the time. He had recently spotted a mother and daughter stealing some things but didn’t tell me until they had left, so I wasn’t thrilled with him at the moment – not like that’s his job or anything, but I still wish he’d let me know sooner. Anyway, thinking back, I’m pretty sure he was just trying to make a joke with me, but he spoke oddly loudly and seemed like he was just a little too gleeful over it. He made the joke a few times after that but now he’s moved onto new (but not much better) material.

But at least he hasn’t jokingly suggested an item with blank tags must be free so I guess I’ll forgive him!