Unfiltered Story #139459

, , | Unfiltered | February 11, 2019

(In Canada, we only have one major book retailer, however, not all the stores have the same name. Large stores are called Chapters and small stores are called Coles. The uniforms for all the stores are identical, except of course that the vests say either “Chapters” or “Coles” depending on which store you work in. I work in a Coles, but on this day have gone straight to Chapters after work to grab a book that my own store didn’t have in stock. I don’t think twice about the fact that I still have my uniform on until this happens)
Customer: “Excuse me, can you tell me where to find [book]?”
Me: “I’m sorry, I have no idea.” *suddenly realizing he assumes I’m working* “I don’t actually work here…”
(We both glance down at my work vest)
Customer: “… Oh, Coles! Okay… Well, this is embarrassing!”
Me: “Sorry I can’t help you…”
(He leaves, and I find my book and head to the cash. Guess who shows up right behind me?)
Customer: *sounding proud of himself* “I found it anyway!”
Me: “Well that’s good!”
(I’m glad the whole encounter went without any drama, but from now on I’ll definitely make sure I take off my work vest before going inside another store!)

Didn’t Read The Sign Or The Signing

, , , , , | Right | February 7, 2019

(I’m a writer, currently promoting my first novel. One afternoon, I’m signing copies of the book in a DVD, record, and bookstore. The employees really did a great job; I’m sitting at a nice desk in the middle of the book section, with a large poster of my book cover AND my own picture right next to me, a kind of nameplate on the desk with my name and two dozen of copies of the book in front of me, and the whole corner surrounded by CRIME SCENE yellow tape. The bookstore reception desk is about two yards on my left, in plain sight of everybody who enters the store. I am wearing a purple fedora, so I’m certainly not dressed like a store employee. A middle-aged customer walks towards me, with his young son in tow. He begins speaking without smiling, and without saying, “Hello,” or, “Please.”)

Customer: “I want to buy a self-installation kit for [Internet service provider].”

Me: *a little taken aback by his rudeness* “Hi… I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not working here. Maybe you should ask—“

Customer: *cutting me off, in a huff* “What are you here for, then?”

Me: *staring at him, dumbfounded* “I’m here for a signing session.”

(I show him the poster and the books. He remains silent, glaring at me for about ten seconds, and walks away… without asking anything to the employees who are a few feet from him! But he says, while turning his back at me.)

Customer: *still disgruntled* “No harm done.”

(Sure. No harm done. But I truly don’t know what I did wrong there and why he felt obliged to be angry at me for his own simple mistake. Maybe he can’t read and was angry to admit it in front of his kid? Anyway, he’s now on my top list of stupid customers, tied with a lady who asked me, on a signing session in a megastore, where she could find the eggs, and was pissed at me when I said I didn’t know. I’m still regretting not having answered: inside a hen’s butt.)

When Two Out Of Five Is A Passing Grade

, , , , | Working | February 4, 2019

(The bookstore I work for has a promotional card that we are supposed to sell, as there’s an annual fee. The managers are really pushing us, and in our daily meetings before each shift, they emphasize how we must mention the card to each customer and point out two different benefits. There are five benefits to choose from. I have been doing it for years now and have my spiel down pretty pat, but I make sure to mention two of the benefits every time. One day after a transaction my manager pulls me aside. She has a clipboard with a rating sheet on it.)

Manager: “Good job selling the membership card to that last customer, but I had to mark you down for only mentioning one benefit. I need you to sign this, acknowledging your mistake.”

Me: “What? No, I mentioned two benefits.”

(I repeat the two I said.)

Manager: “That’s really only one. You need to mention two.”

Me: “No, in the meetings you said we could pick any two of the five. Those are the two I mentioned.”

Manager: “Well, we meant two really different ones. The ones you mentioned are close to the same, so they don’t really count.”

(We go on and on for about five minutes, and in the end, I still refuse to sign that I’ve done something wrong. She is visibly frustrated and gives up.)

Manager: “I’m going to speak to [Store Manager] about you!”

Me: “Great! Make sure to tell him how I sold the card!”

Unfiltered Story #138877

, , , | Unfiltered | February 4, 2019

(I get a customer who wants to know if his movies order came through. I look it up and our system show he has no orders. He is irritated, but ask that I look up movies with a certain 80s child actor.)

Me: “Okay, after the seven results that we’re able to order, looks like you already have six.”

Customer: “Good, can you order them for me?”

Me: “…Which ones?” *calls out the names of ones that showed up on my system*

Customer: “No, I already have those. Can you just order the others for me?”

Me: “There are no others, sir. These are the only ones available for order.”

Customer: *sighs, clearly heavily irritated* “You know, I’m not a child molester…”

Me: *?!*

Customer: “I just like this one, child actor, you know. Could you just order it for me?”

Me: *shocked, confused, and a little worried* “Um… we can’t order any ones that you don’t already have.”

Customer: *walking away* “So you’ll call me when they’re in?”

Me: “…Uh, yes, sir.”

Unfiltered Story #138514

, | Unfiltered | February 2, 2019

(I work in a bookstore. We are four employees, three of them blondes. I’m brunette, however I do have one blond streak at the time. I’m working in the back when a coworker calls me to the front. A regular waits at the cash register. When he sees me, he points at me)

Customer: “YES! I meant her! Now, was that so hard? I told you – the blonde!”
Me: “…”

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